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esote-rika · 6 months ago

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on the stroke of midnight | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: angst Summary: A pregnancy scare with your boyfriend leads to a serious conversation about the future Content: one mention of a foot fetish, pregnancy scare, talk of pregnancy and kids, established relationship, mentions of schizophrenia and mental illness, Cinderella and time as an extended metaphor and motif??? (Idk I was writing this while simultaneously writing my thesis on fairy tales oops), open ended ending Word count: 2.2k A/N: I don't want kids and this fictional man does, so I'm making it everyone's problem. This is my first time writing pure angst, so uh, please let me know if I should continue with this genre or just go back to smut and fluff lol. Also shoutout to @notlongtolove and @darkmatilda who let me yap abt this ily girlies.

Ever since you started dating, Spencer Reid has been trying to figure out why you love Cinderella so much. He’s read through different academic papers, come up with his own silly interpretations that either make you gasp, or cry from laughing, and often leaves you marveling at his wonderful brain and all the ways it twists and turns. He likes games, you’d established that from the beginning when he ended your first date with a friendly game of chess. He had let you win twice before you’d caught on, and called him out on it.

It was on the second date when you brought up your love for fairytales, expecting an amused laugh at best, and an oh so you're one of those Disney adults at worst. However, you got neither. Instead, Spencer Reid had launched into an explanation of the cultural significance of these stories, asked you about your favorite, and then proceeded to tell you about the different versions of it across history and continents. Somewhere between the Americas, he'd cut himself off, blushing furiously, before asking you why you loved Cinderella so much.

By then you had already decided he's perfect.

You didn’t tell him the reason that night; you thought it was too pathetic to share on a second date.

“I’ll tell you if you stick around.” you had said cheekily, hoping that maybe the temptation of a secret will allow you to keep him longer.

He had laughed, “So you’re baiting me into another date?”

“Is it working?”

“I would’ve asked you out again regardless.”

That had been the night you got your first taste of his lips, and you’ve found yourself hoping time would stretch on forever. If moments could be bottled up, you would have done so at that moment, kept it in your pocket for the rest of eternity.

Five months of bliss have passed since. Your theory of his perfection just kept being proven correct throughout the entire time, the way he’s trying so hard to communicate with you and make up for plans that get shelved due to the demanding nature of his job. He’d come up with different explanations for why you love Cinderella, until it became a game of its own; him searching through the contours of the fairy tale and you denying everything he comes up with.

At one point, he’d asked if it was simply because you had a feet fetish and you had to start wearing socks everywhere because the sight of your own feet would make you giggle.

You don’t mind it, the games, the way he insists on learning this about you. Spencer Reid's mind desires to understand how everything works, to turn over and mull and analyze, and the first step to that is by keeping track of the variables. You have always found this endearing. He knows how fast you can read — it depends on the genre according to him, but it’s somewhere around 350-400 words per minute. He knows your favorite stories and music, has found connecting themes between them, and now he’s trying to see where your love for Cinderella fits in all of it. Hell, he even keeps track of your cycle for you, resulting in perfectly timed moments shared in bed where you’re ravished, and he’s chanting your name, and the two of you are gasping for a god that neither of you really believe in.

When you miss your period, he notices before you even do, quietly offering two boxes of pregnancy tests. He kept track of how long it took before the results finally appeared — one test took three minutes and eight seconds, the other one three minutes and twenty one seconds. It had felt simultaneously like three seconds and three decades.

That was nearly six days ago. Nearly a whole week has passed, and what you had assumed to be an insignificant fissure seems to have widened into a crack. It’s a rare night off for him, a moment of domesticity that should be relished, but instead, you wonder if the cracks have somehow turned into something else. A fracture. You move around the kitchen together like magnets with similar poles, close but never quite touching. It feels like a chasm between you.

Dinner in the oven. Only the slow tick of the oven timer disrupts the silence, though it doesn’t really disrupt as much as it joins. Background noise, a lull that seems to melt with the silence to highlight the stifling atmosphere. He’s tossing a salad, facing away from you. You both know it is ready to be served.

His name is whispered into the tense air, your voice croaking at the last syllable, “We need to talk about this.” You watch as he tenses, back uncharacteristically straight, and your heart sinks to your stomach.

“I guess we do.” He never guesses. Spencer Reid uses words that are accurate, god knows he has the vocabulary for it. So this, to guess, the hint of skepticism makes your skin crawl. “What is this, again?”

You scoff. He can be so deliberately obtuse sometimes, “I don’t know, Spence, you tell me. You’ve been acting weird since I took that pregnancy test.”

He doesn’t look at you, but he does answer, “I just— I don’t understand why you were so relieved about the results.”

You’ve had an inkling this whole issue is about that moment. Both of you hunched on his couch while you waited with bated breath. He’d timed it, one stick taking three minutes and eight seconds, the other three minutes and twenty one; both had contained negative results.

You still remember it, the utter relief that washed over your body, the way you threw yourself into his arms at the confirmation that he hadn’t accidentally gotten you pregnant. You’d said thank god so quickly, face buried at the crook of his shoulder, so relieved that you hadn’t really noticed his reaction.

“Spencer,” it comes out a sigh, patient and quiet, “We’ve been dating for five months. Of course I was relieved. Don’t get me wrong, I love you, but it’s a little too soon to add a baby to the mix.” Love. That abstract concept you’ve almost given up on, before he’d come into your life. You love him, you’re sure of it. It’s burrowed deep into your bones now, which is why you’re trying to get past this. Communication is the key to making a relationship work. You remind yourself you don’t need a fairy godmother to keep this going. You have agency of your own.

His head shifts, turning over his shoulder slowly, and those beautiful amber eyes meet your own. “Is that all?”

It feels like an accusation, even though you know he’s just trying to understand. You gulp, trying not to get defensive, “I suppose not. If I’m being honest, I was relieved because I don’t really want children.”

There it is. A cardinal sin, a sickness of modern women. You wait for his words to turn bitter, the familiar accusations of selfishness, the condescension.

Instead, he looks at you with wounded eyes, “You don’t want children with me?”

“What? That’s not what I said.”

He pauses, Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulps. The oven continues to hum softly in the background, its built-in timer clicking at equal intervals. In a different context, it might have given you a sense of peace, but right now it feels mocking. Your time is almost up.

“Spencer, that’s not what I said, honey.”

“Yeah, I heard you.” he turns back to the salad.

You watch him helplessly, searching for any way to bring him back to you.

“You kept asking about my mom,” he murmurs, “It’s not that I didn’t want you to meet her, it’s that, it’s—well, she’s in a home. A– a mental facility. She’s schizophrenic.”

This is not how you expected this conversation to go. “Spencer.”

“I guess, you know, that’s genetically passed down, and it’s no secret that my teammates suspect I’m on the spectrum, so my genetic makeup isn’t exactly the most desirable in terms of a partner with whom you would want to—to procreate.”

God, you wish he had been like most people and accused you of being a selfish bitch instead.

“No,” you gasp, crossing the space between you. His hand is cold when you wrap your fingers around it. Unfortunately, you don’t think you have any warmth to give. Your own hands are clammy, but you try anyway, tugging it away from the tongs he’s using to mindlessly swirl at the contents of the salad. “It’s not like that at all.”

“It’s not?”

“No. And I’m sorry about your mom, I–I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to tell me about her.” the words feel futile, worthless. You’re entirely unprepared for something like this. He hasn’t told you much about Diana Reid, and you’d given him space, and now… now you understand why.

A beat as he considers. His body angles towards you now, his stance hunching forward into that familiar slouch you’ve come to love. You can’t tell if he’s relaxed or defeated, and that uncertainty burns in the back of your throat. “So you just don’t—”

“I don’t want kids, plain and simple. It’s got nothing to do with your genes, or your suspected autism, I just…” You falter, hands tightening over his own. You wish you could be more eloquent, but there’s so much uncertainty, so many truths being dropped in the span of minutes. You wait for more questions, for the inevitable but aren’t you worried about your legacy? Wouldn’t you get lonely? Motherhood is fulfilling for women. Sentiments you always get when you share this particular choice.

You prepare your arsenal of responses, defenses you’ve practiced and perfected throughout the years, ready for any attempts to make you change your mind.

Somehow, he manages to choose the most devastating response instead. Muttering so quietly you almost don’t catch it, Spencer says, “But I do.”

You wonder how you got this long without ever talking about this? How had you gone five months with him, allowed yourself to let your walls down and fall in love, memorized the scars and calluses all over his body without ever discussing the topic of children? It seems silly, most people talk about that stuff from the get go, don’t they? To see if they would be compatible in the long run?

But you’ve never had that before, the luxury of future plans. You’ve come to accept that the floor will inevitably collapse beneath your feet, that your time with someone will run out. When you’re used to having an expiry date, you don’t bother to make plans. The only way to survive is to live in the moment. Cinderella and her midnight curfew.

“Oh.” It’s a filler word, but the silence is beginning to get to you. You stare at your entwined hands. His thumb is running back and forth across your knuckles, the action familiar and soothing, and allow yourself a moment to believe, to hope, that there’s time left for this. That time would never run out.

His next words break your heart even more, “I know it’s silly, especially with how much risk is involved. With my job, my—”

“It’s not silly at all, Spence.” you gulp, trying to push past the lump in your throat as you remember how he acts around his godson Henry in those rare times he’s had to babysit, “You’d make a great dad.”

“You’d make a great mom too.”

“Spencer.”

“I’ve seen you with your own nephews. You’re great with kids.”

“Don’t—”

“I’m not trying to change your mind,” he finally pulls you in, lips finding the top of your head, “I respect your choice, I do. I’m sorry that I seem like I’m pressuring you.”

“You’re not,” it’s even harder to catch your breath when your face is pressed against him, but you don’t make a move. Losing air seems like a fair compromise if it means you get to feel his touch. The way this conversation went has you reeling, confused. You’d been prepared to defend yourself, to explain your choices and make him understand, potentially to argue. His respect and acceptance is an entirely different battlefield, but no less vicious.

With all the courage you can muster, you speak the words into existence even though you dread the answer. “Is this a deal breaker? Having children?”

He’s quiet. You wonder if this is even still a battlefield. You wonder if this is surrender, quiet and unassuming, a white flag raised before the fighting even began. If it is, then it stings, his soft acceptance. You almost find yourself wishing he’d try to convince you instead if it means he’ll fight for you more.

Your mind wanders back to Cinderella, the little game you’ve been playing, the way you’ve been holding out on the answer because it amuses you to hear the variety of interpretations and musings he’ll come up with. You promised yourself you’d tell him when the time is right, but now you’re afraid he’ll never get the answer. It feels useless, the cat and mouse you’ve developed, not when you’re faced with a real, human issue. A difference in life goals. Something communication potentially couldn’t fix.

His heart is drumming relentlessly against your cheek. It brings you some sick sense of comfort, knowing that he’s just as terrified as you are.

“Spencer?” Is this the end? Please don’t let this be the end, please don’t be another good thing I lose.

The timer on the oven dings, piercing in the tense silence. Your midnight curfew has come. Dinner is ready.

Happy Valentines <3 thank you for reading, here's the rest of my masterlist

Also tagging @olderwomenenthusiast ty for the interest it is here

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x afab reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid x reader angst #criminal minds #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid

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localfreakery · 12 days ago

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Stranger Than Fiction

[Jason Todd x Reader] | 2.5k words

A cute stranger begins to frequent the local bookstore you work at, making your shifts a lot more enjoyable.

–

hi idk how to use tumblr and this is my first fic on this website sooo please be nice thanks 💯🙏😍💦💪

“Aw, I love this one. It’s a classic,” you say, eyes tracing over the glossy cover of Pride and Prejudice instead of the customer in front of you.

When you finally look up at them, you’re a little taken aback.

In front of you stands a tall, well over six-foot man, built like a tank with scars etched across his cheeks. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his brown leather jacket, strands from a white streak in his jet black hair falling loosely over his eyes.

“You read Austen?” You ask doubtfully.

He shrugs, faintly smirking. “Yeah. I like all 400 pages of pictures.”

You snort, not expecting a joke. “My favorite manga,” you quip.

He laughs– a quick exhale from his nose– and nods. “Mhm. One of the first.”

Grin still playing on your lips, you ring the book up through the register. You feel the way his eyes are fixed on you as you tap away on the screen, trying not to glance back.

“It’s 12.99. You wanna round up your penny to help at-risk youth in Gotham stay out of trouble?”

He grins, raising an eyebrow. “That all it takes?”

“Yup.”

Fumbling with the bills in his wallet, he smooths out one ten and three crinkled dollar bills, sliding them over.

“Save the youths.”

You nod, finally meeting his gaze again. “Good man. You want a bag?”

He shakes his head, waving one hand and grabbing the book with the other.

“You have a good one,” you say– this time with a genuine, warm smile.

Smiling, he mumbles a quiet “you, too,” in response. But just before he leaves, he opens his mouth as if to say something else, before seemingly thinking better of it and walking away.

It plagues your mind for the rest of the shift.

–

“I’m telling you, he was going to say something,” You insisted as you recalled the incident to your younger coworker, Mia. “He was so hot! And well read!”

“Y/N!” She exclaimed, playfully smacking you on the shoulder. “Why didn’t you, like, ask for his number?”

You lean against the counter, rolling your eyes.

“I know you’re still in high school, so the idea of adults dating like they do in the movies still seems plausible, but people don’t just… ask each other out.”

Mia frowns. “Real positive.”

You raise a hand. “And, there were other people in line. Old people. You know they would’ve thrown a fit if they had to wait any longer because some young farts were flirting.”

She holds back a laugh, biting her lip. “You’re not wrong there.”

“Besides, he was way out of my league,” you mumble, before spotting a customer walking up to the register. “I can take you over here!”

Mia flicks your shoulder again, murmuring as she walks off to finish organizing the new shipment of books at the front display

“He’ll come back.”

–

Seventeen year olds must have a sixth sense.

You tell yourself this, because it's an hour before closing the day after your conversation with Mia when you hear a familiar voice.

“Uh, ma’am?”

You look up at the large figure, crouched as you organize books in the rarely frequented foreign languages aisle, where you hoped to remain undisturbed until the shop closed.

This, though, was a welcomed interruption.

You nearly choke on air when you realize it’s the guy from the other day– and he’s talking to you, here, in an aisle all by yourself.

“Can I help you find something?” You ask innocuously, hoping he doesn’t hear the slight waver in your voice.

“Yeah, actually… I was wondering if you had any more manga recommendations,” he says, just as deadpan as before, with the same faint smirk and intent gaze still in place.

“I finished Pride– it was as good as everyone said. I've, uh, also read Sense and Sensibility, so I was wondering what the next step would be in conquering the Jane Austen literary universe.”

You can’t help but laugh.

It’s late and you’ve been here since nine in the morning. His presence felt like the perfect remedy to the hours of bickering you’d endured from unsatisfied customers and your least favorite manager breathing down your neck.

His smile grows when you laugh, dimples showing through on his scarred cheeks.

Your heart feels like it’s going to fall out of your chest when you finally stand up. He’s towering over you, and it’s even more apparent how tall he is when he’s not behind the register counter.

“Let me think…”

Your eyes trail off somewhere up towards the ceiling, pretending to be in deep thought so your composure wouldn’t implode upon actually looking back at him.

“Northanger Abbey’s pretty good,” you begin. “It’s kind of a satire of old gothic tropes, and it’s pretty funny, but still has the romance element that her other books have–”

“Mangas.”

You chuckle. “Mangas, right,” you correct yourself, playfully nodding along.

“But you were saying?”

He gazes down at you with a look as amused as it is sincere, as if savoring every word to tuck away for later, and you finally notice that his eyes are a beautifully deep shade of green.

And instead of short-circuiting, you find odd comfort when you melt into his gaze.

For the next however many minutes, you and the beautiful stranger babble back and forth about classic English literature, your favorite authors, and a shared hatred for modern romance books.

A warmth bloomed in your chest: one that spread to your cheeks every time he made a stupid joke or casual literary reference, and especially when he leaned down to hear you better.

When the time finally comes to check out the copy of Northanger Abbey you’d helped him find, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Looking at the time on the register screen, you realize it was fifteen minutes to close.

The two of you had been talking for nearly 45 minutes.

He didn’t seem to mind or be in any rush until he realized the time.

“Damn, sorry for keeping you so long,” he says sheepishly. “Didn’t realize how late it was.”

You wave it off.

“Don’t be. It’s nice to actually talk to someone who’s interested in the same books as you, and not just looking for, like, assigned readings for their class.”

He hums, raising his brows as he pulls out his wallet. “Don’t miss those days.”

“Neither do I.”

You take the cash he slides across the counter, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your gaze linger a little too long on his slender, calloused hands.

“We rounding up to save the youths tonight?” You ask, a slight curl tugging at your lip.

“Oh yeah,” he nods. “Those forty cents’ll turn those delinquents right around.”

Smiling, you hand him the book, remembering how he didn’t ask for a bag last time.

“Thanks for stopping in. You have a good night…” You trail off, waiting.

“Jason.” He finishes. “And you’re…?”

“Y/N.”

He glances down at your nametag, half-rubbed off and covered in stickers.

“Sorry– was a little hard to read from up here,” he jokes, alluding to his height. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You wave, a warm flush coating your cheeks when you hear the sound of your name leave his lips. For once, you were sad that it was closing time.

“Night, Jason.”

And so the beautiful stranger had a name.

–

Slow is an understatement for what the store is like today.

It’s well past six PM on a Tuesday, and the sunset finally begins to peak from the horizon, leaving a hazy golden glow over the racks of books throughout the building.

You and Mia occupied yourself by organizing a new stock of books– well, you were. Mia sat next to you as she scrolled through Instagram, trying to find Jason’s profile.

“Is this him?” She turns her phone to you. You shake your head.

“Too short. And his hair’s not curly like that.”

This repeats for the next ten minutes before Mia finally gives up.

“Maybe he gave you a fake name,” she suggests.

You shrug. Unlikely, but not impossible. “Sure, but why?”

“Maybe he has a girlfriend and you’re his secret crush on the side.”

“Or maybe he’s just not on social media,” you say with a laugh.

Something about his lack of internet presence only added to the mystique of your work crush.

Even if he was taken, or ten years older than you, or a vigilante on the run from the authorities, he was still your own Mr. Tilney, rescuing you from boring shifts and giving you something to stare at.

At least that’s what Mia seemed to think.

“Y/N, this is literally the start of a romance novel,” she insists with bright eyes. “The brooding, mysterious, stranger who’s always at the bookstore and falls in love with the girl behind the counter? Come on.”

You snort. “He’s been here twice.”

“And he’ll be here again!”

Smiling, you give her a pitiful pat on the shoulder.

“Keep dreaming, kid.”

You roll the cart over to the next aisle, a few sections back.

And that’s when you see him.

Jason, six foot, leather jacket and all, flipping through a book in the historical fiction aisle across the room.

Damn seventeen year olds and their sixth sense.

You feel like you’ve been electrocuted the moment you lay your eyes on him.

Your hands go numb and your feet feel like jelly when you shuffle back to find Mia. Motioning for her to follow, you lead her to the aisle that’s far enough to see him, but out of direct sight.

She covers her mouth when you point to him.

“Oh, he’s hot,” she squeals. “You have to go talk to him!”

You sigh, turning your back to him.

“Yeah, but what do I even say?”

Mia thinks for a moment before it clicks.

“Roll your cart over there and pretend you’re stocking the shelves! Historical fiction’s on the list anyways, isn’t it?

Nodding, you nervously tread back to where the cart sat. Before you head over to Jason, you mouth a silent prayer to Mia, and she re-affirms you with two thumbs up and a shit-eating grin.

You wouldn’t be surprised if she whipped out her phone and started filming.

But with three hours to close and a mostly empty store, you figure there’s not much to lose.

Your fingers tremble as you roll the cart over to the array of historical fiction novels, stopping near the edge of the display.

When Jason finally spots you, your heart catches in your throat.

“Y/N, hey,” he says quietly. “Do you need me to move–”

“No!” The word bursts out as frantically and awkwardly as you feel. You swallow, hiding your nerves with a smile.

“You’re all good,” you begin as casually as you can. “I just came over here to put out some of the new shipments we got.”

He perks up immediately.

“You got new stuff?” A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Do you, uh, mind if I take a look? I like what I picked up, but I was hoping to get something else, too.”

You nod, making room for him to come over and sit next to you.

“Tired of Austen already?”

He scoffs, shaking his head, lifting the copy of Persuasion in his hand.

“Just wanted some variety.”

“You like reading about the old days, huh?” you ask, nodding at the shelves in the aisle.

He chuckles and settles beside you.

“It’s an escape,” he says, his calloused fingers gently skimming the spines of the books. “Helps me forget what a mess the world is right now.”

Heat rushes up your neck at the sudden closeness. Something lights inside your stomach when you inhale the scent of his cologne and the worn leather of his jacket.

You hope he doesn’t notice the way you study the cut of his jaw when he speaks.

There’s a large “J” scarred into his cheek. It’s not quite faded, but not fresh, either. And with the other jagged marks on his face, you wonder where it came from.

“J” for Jason– but who carves their own initials into their face?

You wish you could reach out and trace it, just to know how it feels.

But you don’t. You snap back into the conversation.

“I get it,” you nod. His response was poignant– far from the witty one-liners you’d grown to expect. “I know life was worse in a lot of ways back then, but… I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder what they did without all the mob bosses and masked freaks running around.”

He chuckles, a dimple flashing. “Got married at 15 and died from typhoid, not Penguin,” he says.

You snort.

“Fair enough.”

After a few minutes of back-and-forth banter, Jason finishes sifting through the books, settling on some pulp fiction-y novel about mobs in the twenties.

“Had me thinkin’ about Penguin, so why not,” he says, placing it onto the register.

When you finally scan the last book he selected– Persuasion– something twists in your stomach.

What if this is the last time you see him?

All the talk about the crime surge in Gotham and the madmen behind it hit you in that moment, realizing that you weren’t promised another one of these little exchanges.

The shop was in a safer part of town, but it was still Gotham.

Anything could happen the minute he walked out of the door.

Tapping away at the register, you tried to shake the feeling. But maybe it was the way your gaze lingered a little too long on the screen without saying anything, or how you mumbled out his total, that he noticed something was off.

“You good?”

Your head snaps back up at him.

“Yeah!” You smile sheepishly. “Sorry, just tired.”

Your mind tossed and turned trying to come up with the least awkward, least creepy way to ask him out. You wanted to keep the cool, nonchalant vibe that you’d come to share with him, but deep down, you were anything but.

You were a lover. A yearner. A hopeless romantic; one whose heart swelled whenever the thought of their scarred, six-foot Mr. Darcy in a leather jacket popped into their mind.

It was corny, really.

But it was now or never.

You handed him all three of his books, sticking the receipt on top of the stack awkwardly, a little too quickly.

Your heart was pounding so loud you swore he could probably hear it, because as soon as he took them from you, he opened his mouth to speak.

At the same time you did.

“Um, so I–”’

“Will you go out with me?”

You both froze.

Jason blinked, eyebrows twisting into slight worry, like he couldn’t believe the words that just came out of his mouth.

You, on the other hand, stood slack-jawed with widened eyes, like you also couldn’t believe the words that just came out of his mouth.

“Wait, sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off–” he stammers, clearing his throat. “I– um. What were you saying?”

“Yes.”

You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world; like it’s the amount of change he owes and whether or not he’d like to round up for charity.

He looks at you, and a wave of softness washes over his green eyes.

“You… you will?” He asks like he doesn’t quite believe you. “It– It doesn’t have to be a date. Just… I dunno. Coffee, or dinner, or a movie. It can be whatever you want.”

You smile, the nerves in your body finally fizzling out, and you feel like you can breathe again.

“I know a nice café down the street,” you begin. “I’m off tomorrow at 2?”

He nods, and he can’t stop himself from smiling.

“Yeah, okay. That’s perfect. Can I get your–”

Before he can even finish his question, you grab a pen from the small caddy on the counter and walk up to Jason. Gently, you write your phone number on his receipt.

“Text me.”

part 2 coming soon probably lol 💪

#jason todd x reader #dcu x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood #jason todd #dc #reader is kind of a smartass #but so is jason honestly #also they're both dorks #jason is a loverboy you can't take this away from me

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syrecjh · 1 month ago

Note

I got ooonnne eeeeep ok ok so idol reader (like Aikatsu the idol anime look it up its a classic my personal favorite songs are adult mode by Natsuki Mikuru and Wake up my music by Masquerade)

Katsuki x reader (bakusquad friends) maybe the others if you feel ike it

Reader is secret Idol only one who knows is Jiro because her parents are readers manager Mina gets tickets for everyone we have to make up a lie saying we cant go Bakugou get suspicious going all detective mode cause he spotted us practicing with Midnight one day he always wondered why we never trained with the others

(teachers know im thinking her quirk is something with her voice like in Mermaid Melody)

Idk have fun with it get creative take your time

LOL Rin~

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ || katsuki bakugo x secret idol! reader, pure fluff

There’s a rhythm to your double life.

In the morning, you're a student of U.A., tying your hair in a practical braid, adjusting your uniform collar, nodding politely to Aizawa-sensei as you file into Heroics 101. You train. You analyze. You quietly shine.

And by night—under LED constellations and gold-threaded stardust—you become Aurielle, the radiant center of a three-girl idol group taking Japan by storm.

They call you a voice from the stars. Not just because of your presence, but because of your quirk—Vocal Resonance—a melodic anomaly that lets your voice shift tone, pace, and frequency at will. A lullaby that soothes civilians. A siren’s song that disorients villains. Your mother always said you were born humming to the heartbeat of the world.

Only Jirou knows the truth.

It helps that her parents are your managers. That her room is sometimes your dressing room. That her headphones carry your rehearsals, and her heart keeps your secret safe.

But secrets are meant to be tested. And this one? It’s about to break on beat.

It starts with Mina, bursting into the dorm lounge like a sugar rush in human form.

“GUYS!! GUYS GUYS GUYS!!” she yells, phone in hand, practically vibrating. “I GOT TICKETS!! For ORBITRIUM!! You know—Aurielle, Polaris, and Reina—THE girls, the galaxy girls!! Their new single just hit #1! It’s sold out everywhere, but my cousin’s friend’s older sister works at the venue and—!”

Cue chaos.

Denki is already practicing dance moves. Sero is checking outfits. Kirishima’s grinning ear to ear. Even Todoroki raises an eyebrow in interested silence. Everyone is thrilled. Including—

“You’re coming too, right?” Mina beams looking at you, tugging your arm.

You smile—small, apologetic. “Oh... I wish, but I’ve got extra training. Midnight-sensei asked me to help with something.”

Your lie is smooth. Practiced.

Because in 48 hours, you won’t be in the crowd.

You’ll be onstage.

But Bakugo doesn’t buy it.

He watches you from across the lounge, jaw tight, red eyes narrowed just a little too long.

You and Bakugo… it’s complicated.

Friends? Maybe. Rivals? Often. Confidants? Occasionally, in the quiet of the courtyard when no one else is around. You’re the only one who doesn’t flinch when he barks. He’s the only one who notices when your voice trembles after a long day.

He doesn’t know what it means. But he knows it means something.

And now?

Now you’re lying. And not well enough.

He follows you after class. Quiet. Shadowed. Stupidly stealthy for someone who usually announces himself with explosions.

He trails you through side halls. Up the west stairwell. Past the usual training areas. Unti—

He sees it.

You. On an empty practice floor. Spotlights blazing. Midnight standing at the edge with a clipboard, nodding along to the rhythm of your vocals as you spin, glittering and gold even in your training clothes. Your voice rising and falling with impossible grace. Your quirk glowing in delicate swirls of light and sound around you.

Bakugo doesn’t breathe.

Because it’s not just that you’re a secret idol.

It’s that you’re everything he didn’t expect.

And yet…everything that makes sense.

Concert night comes.

Class 1-A is rowdy, waving glow sticks, screaming lyrics they barely know. Mina’s sobbing three seconds into the opening ballad. Even Iida is caught in the sway.

And Bakugo?

He sits still.

He doesn’t cheer.

Doesn’t blink.

Because when the lights part and Aurielle steps into view—hair curled like constellations, costume shimmering like a dream, voice cutting through the arena like silk over steel—he doesn’t see a stranger.

He sees you.

You, who never trained with them because you were perfecting harmony and heroism.

You, who missed their concert because you were the concert.

You, who looked right into the crowd for half a second too long—eyes scanning, desperate—and when you found him in the seventh row, you froze.

Just for a breath.

And Bakugo smiled. Smirked, really.

Because that was the look of someone caught.

After the show, he’s waiting by the venue’s side gate, hood up, arms crossed.

You rush out in a jacket over your glittering costume, half-panicked, half-exhausted.

“Katsuki—”

He raises an eyebrow. “Midnight-sensei, huh?”

You bite your lip. “I—”

“You lied,” he says.

You flinch.

He steps forward. “But damn. You lied beautifully.”

Your breath catches.

Silence.

Then—

“You kept this from me, dumbass?” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “Tch. You think I wouldn’t have helped? You think I wouldn’t’ve gone with you to every single gig just to make sure no creep got close?”

You blink. “You would’ve?”

His ears go red. “I’m not sayin’ I care, or whatever, just—fuck, you’re annoying.”

You laugh. Soft and real. “You were at the concert.”

He shrugs. “I came for the music. Stayed for the singer.”

You freeze again. But this time, it’s not stage fright.

It’s something deeper.

Something warm.

When the rumor of you being in the group spreads back at the dorm, the BakuSquad watches as you sink into the sofa. Bakugo doesn’t howl or tease. Instead, he leans in next to you, voice low so only you hear: “You weren’t the only one keeping a secret.” You glance up. His eyes, narrowed but warm, hold something you’ve never admitted before—pride.

From that moment on, your steps on stage grow surer. Every time the crowd cheers “Aurielle,” your heartbeat echoes in your ears. But you know, among thousands, his eyes are always there—row seven, arms crossed, red glare flickering with quiet admiration. A hero in the chaos, your biggest fan.

Hope you like this one! I had fun writing this omg sun a wonderful req thank u so much🥺took me a bit, sorry for the wait 😭 💜💜

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westanleovaldito · 25 days ago

Text

Had to take a small break and write for myself so heres

Roommate!Spencer (New beginnings)

CW: fluff, domesticity, mention of bullying

I used a gif by @reidgif to make the header, please check them out :]

A/N: its my first roommate fic possibly out of many. Idk i just have a lot of ideas for series and i want to write them AAAAALLLLLLLLLL!!! (And i know the roommate trope is kinda popular now but i dont care because i like it.)

You had known of Spencer for a year, but you only recently began to be fond of him. Everyone on campus had heard of the boy who got a diploma at twelve, and started bouncing around colleges to collect degrees like pokemon cards.

At the start of every year, he became a sort of cryptid. A campus urban legend. People either bullied him, hated him, or (the vast minority) were deeply protective of him. But with each year, he became less noticeable with age.

It was in the library before midterms of your freshman year, that you saw him and spoke to him.

You were seated across the room, and normally you would never interrupt another's studies. But you saw how quickly his finger grased the pages of his book, flipping quickly. Your eyes went wide and the words flew out before you could stop them.

"Boy genius?!" Like a conspiratory whisper, that could be heard across the room.

He sighed and threw his head back. "No, I will not do your homework!"

"No- no I'm sorry-" you choked out. He met your gaze with a cocked brow, causing a sigh to draw from your lips. "I just- deeply envy you."

He nodded, unphased. "Lots of people do."

The silence was uncomfortable, prolonged.

"Cramming?" He asked. You didn't know he spoke unprompted.

Still, you nodded. "Chemistry. You?"

"I'm not worried." He shrugged, raising his book with a thin lipped smile. "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea"

"Verne?" You questioned, gathering your things to move closer. "I thought you were permanently restricted to textbooks."

He shook his head, chuckling as a soft blush crept onto his cheeks. Spencer licked his lips, and continued, "I'm actually very well versed in literature."

To say he looked permanently sad was an understatement. He looked more like a pitiful shelter dog that was conditioned to look at every human and expect violence. With all the rumors surrounding his severe bullying, you couldn't be surprised.

From the moment you saw the deep rooted sadness in his soul, you knew you were going to weasle your way into his heart, and force him to know love. If you were already overflowing with it, what was one more friend to bake cookies for?

You had, infact, managed to get under his skin. At least, enough that he knew a few things. You liked his fun facts, you hated interrupting or being interrupted, and you disgustingly and faithfully dedicated to being his friend. It wasn't even manipulation, like he thought it was at first.

It was easier for him to let you in his life, let the plates of baked goods come into his hands, and let you into his small friend group, despite the fact that you already had your own.

Though, he assumed you would go to your own, closer friends for a roommate. But you quickly caught on to how he was always everyone's second choice, and decided to make a leap of faith.

Spencer greeted you with a smile as you bolted into the library, laptop in hand, but was not greeted with the same calm air.

You were out of breath, for seemingly no reason at all, but he didn't have time to question it before you set the computer down, opened it, and quickly turned it to face him.

It was a half assed power point with black text and a white background, titled "Why We Should Get an Apartment" and the smaller text beneath it read "Yes. Us. Together."

Spencer blinked between the text and you, his brow knit together and his mouth opened to speak. Before he could, you had already started.

"Saving money." You paused to aggressively press the space bar. The powerpoint faded to a bullet point that slowly drifted in from the left. "I did the math. I cried over it. Don't correct me or I'll cry more."

You paused, taking a breath and waving off any unspoken concerns he continuously tried to voice. "Soryimreallyoutofbreath- If you and I move in together, I would help support us, and we could split rent. It would save us the cost of a dorm, we would have private bathrooms, and you wouldn't have to deal with the parties and noise."

You then pressed another button, and another bullet point slid in from the right. "I'm lonely, and I don't want to go back to my hometown- you also told me you also dislike going home."

Spencer looked at you with a raised brow, bouncing his leg as he probably began to nit pick you.

You sighed and looked back to the computer. Click. Nothing. Clickclickclick. "Uh..." your hair whiped your face as you quickly looked between the biy and your computer.

Your lips pursed in a way that mimiced Spencer's face when he had to say he didn't shake hands. "Also, I need more guinea pigs for baking and.....I don't like living by myself..."

Spencer looked at you with a face that read 'thoroughly unimpressed.'

"Yeah- I know it's stupid." You sighed, shutting the laptop and turning to leave.

A soft, hesitant voice came from Spencer. "I think it's worth a shot?"

You whipped around so fast, you might have brocken your neck. "Really?!"

"Uh- sure?" Spencer said, looking a bit amused by your excitement. "All I ask is that we take turns doing dishes, and keep the place clean."

To say you were elated was an understatement. Honestly, Spencer would have done anything to see that smile again. But instead he simply stood and smiled at you.

You almost hugged him, but quickly dropped your arms to your sides and settled for bouncing on your heels and making a flapping motion with your hands

"I've never had a roommate before- what does it entail?" He asked through a beaming smile. It was all because yours was contagious.

Your head fell to the side, your smile falling as if he brought something to mind that drifted over your head. "Well... I wanted to get you on board with the idea first..."

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Finals are coming up soon, so we should agree on a place before end of term."

You both agreed on a place to meet, to further discuss.

You had agreed on a two bed, two bath apartment on the third floor, with a patio, standad kitchen and amenities.

Shoving what little could fit into a small trailer, that was all you could afford, you ended up with Spencers bed and desk, your desk, bed, and as many clothes and belongings you both could Tetris Stack in.

Sure, you lacked a couch, washer and dryer as well as decoration, but you would surely manage.

For now, all you could focus on was setting up your respective rooms, sharing Chinese takeout on the floor, and the flowers that bloomed in your heart at the first ever sight of Spencers toothy, wholehearted smile.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #shy spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid headcanon #criminal minds x you

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revelboo · 9 months ago

Note

Idk if you have seen this starscream or not but do you think can do transformers armada starscream x reader? I have a real soft spot for him. He deserves some love ❤️

I can try- my knowledge of Armada is a bit thin. 18+ 🌶️

Even If It Kills Me

Armada Starscream x Reader

• Helm tipping back as the sun drips through the leaves and dapples him in spots of warmth, he can almost relax out here, far from home. Nearby, he can hear Jetstorm, Runway, and Sonar splashing in the lake as they dart along the rocky shore. Knows the Autobots would probably not like it if they knew he was out alone with the Mini-Cons, but also that the three of them deserve some peace from the fighting. It’s Sonar tapping his ped that makes him look down and it doesn’t take the mini-con’s frantic hand gestures to realize that there’s only two of them. Runway is gone. Primus, it’s like having sparklings sometimes. “Show me,” he growls tiredly as Sonar and Jetstorm both point into the woods framing the clearing and the lake.

• Leaning across the engine to get at the intake manifold while trying to not drop anything inside the engine, the little beeping chirp from behind you almost makes you brain yourself on the hood. Like you need any more injuries, your face is still swollen and your split lip burns as you turn to look and do drop a tool into the engine, hearing it clanging. Because there’s a little robot just taller than you standing behind you, red visor glowing as it startles at the noise of the dropped tool. A kid in a costume? It looks real as you push yourself back and your feet hit the gravel. “Where’d you come from, buddy?” Because your house is well off the road. It’s not moving closer, but not retreating either, so you approach it. It’s not a costume, it can’t be. It’s too cannily made for that. You’d known robots were getting advanced, but why is it out here wandering around? It shies away when you try to touch it and you hold up your hands, palms out. “Okay. We’re good.”

• Not expecting it to cautiously reach out and press its palm to yours, head tipping as it chirps at you. “Hope you’re not a first gen terminator, buddy.” And then it’s carefully gripping your hand to play with your fingers and thumb, seeing how they move and you inhale, but its touch is shockingly gentle as it makes little beeping sounds to itself. It’s inquisitive as it plucks at your flannel shirt and then touches your hair. “Not a fan of personal space, huh?” Its head tips, visor flickering like it’s uncertain.

• Branches clawing at him as he moves through the woods, forcefully making a path, when he breaks free of the tree line, he freezes because he hasn’t realized he was so close to a human dwelling. And there’s a human in the yard right there standing in front of Runway as the mini-con chirps. And you and Runway both freeze as he crashes out of the tree line, Sonar and Jetstorm running toward their brother before stopping short when they notice the human. You’re just staring up at him and he knows he’s supposed to be hidden on this world and not be seen.

• There’s two more you sized robots, but you can’t tear your eyes from the giant red one scowling down at you. The little guys are cute, but this one? Are these his babies? Is he about to stomp you for messing with one of them? “Human,” he growls, taking a thunderous step forward and that’s it for your ability to deal with this nonsense. You throw up a hand at him and start speed walking for the house. Cause nope. No, thank you. You have enough problems without this too.

• You’re ignoring him? Venting raggedly, he strides after you and insinuates his ped between you and the door to your house. And you stare up at him, one eye squinting, the skin around it discolored. “If you let me go, I’ll pretend none of this ever happened, okay?” You say, little arms crossing. “You go do your giant robot, kaiju thing and I’ll go get drunk until I forget this. Everyone wins.” And you grin at him, wincing and darting your tongue out to touch your split lip. Those little injuries shouldn’t mean a thing to him. Except, they strike a chord and he hates it. Because he knows what it’s like to be someone else’s punching bag. You’re just a human, you mean nothing to him, but as Runway chirps up at him almost pleadingly, he bends to curl his servos around you. Or tries to, because reaching for you shatters your odd calm and there’s the fear he expected. And you bolt.

Added a bitty Soundwave plush to my Soundwave Jeep. There’s a lot to do to get ready for Jeep Jam in May

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #armada starscream

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user946468 · 5 months ago

Note

Hii, I noticed that you take requests! I was wondering if maybe you could write about reader finding out that Chishiya got shot in season2 ep7 and how she would react when she finds him? Thank you so much if you write it!

Can you see me now? | Chishiya Shuntaro x Reader Oneshot

Helloo! Thank you so much for the request, I hope it meets your expectations<3 Also I apologize, i got carried away lol, It also might be a little different than you anticipated - but regardless I hope you like!

Fluff than Angst mixed with Fluff than Angst. WC - 5,403 words

Disclaimer, this is not connected to my ongoing fic so the reader will act differently and the readers story line with change -nonetheless, please enjoy! (Also this might be out of character?? Idk i tried)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When clothed pads of feet made their way down the hall you shot a quick smile over your shoulder, each of your hands carrying a warm plate. Chishiya nodded silently back in response, he never did fully stare you in the eye's during the morning. He stopped for a second, leaning into the door frame so he could tug his sweats back down over his ankle - it must had rid up his calf sometime in the night.

Huffing in amusement, you waited for him to take a seat at the table before pushing the plate of food towards him.

You meet Chishiya during the Jack of Hearts game.

Or rather, you knew him through Ippei.

You had joined the Hearts game far earlier than necessary, it was the first blimp you came across while running from the array of bullets and reluctantly, with tried limbs and a desperate need for coverage - joined the game. The stone walls were cold, and your jaw clenched when the cells bars came into view - everything about the situation was eerie, the hovering couple that eyed your every step just made it worse.

For awhile it was just you and them.

You stood on the opposite end of the floor.

One by one the group increased in size, everyone very different than the next - observing the situation as time passed is what pushed you to introduce yourself to Ippei, he was shuffling his weight on each foot and stood alone in a dark corner, eyeing everyone like they were a snake about to strike out.

Poor kid looked like he was about to bolt for the door or pass out at any moment.

You were naturally an anxious person, and maybe that's why you sympathized with him enough to talk to him - or maybe his skittish behavior was making yourself increasingly nervous.

He was shy, and timid - and he seemed to appreciate your appearance more than you anticipated. And so you stayed, killing your boredom and the mans nerves simultaneously - he talked about his animals back home, you shared details about yours and encouraged him to talk about his hobbies he deemed were too "childish" to share.

You left some time in between, after Ippei lightheartedly declined your invitation you sought out the building - multiple gendered bathrooms, dozens of cells, and a room stocked with in-date food. When you came back with a large bag of cookies, Ippei was talking with someone.

Someone new.

He had shoulder length bleached hair, and dark hooded eye's, so much so they almost looked pitch black at first glance - and he was staring at you. Cause Ippei was motioning at you to join them, and for a moment you almost walked away. He was a lot more intimidating than Ippei, and the difference in dynamic mixed with the clear fact that he had to come up to Ippei first is what worried you.

And yet you still moved to their direction, and you still held out the opened bag towards Ippei, and he still took it with multiple thanks, because of course he did, and you even held the package out to the blond. A silent "please don't kill me" undertone followed your actions.

With a shallow breath, he hummed and grabbed a small handful - much to your surprise, and thankfully didn't threaten you in any way. Who would have known cookies could save your life?

And that was it. For the remainder of the game you two passed cookies around and didn't kill each other. Not when people grouped up, slowly taking turns in betraying each other, not when you stood silently by Ippei's cell, never daring to look in- Chishiya even had the decency to stand next to you for a few minutes, before turning around and walking away without either of you sharing a word.

When the game ended you followed him silently.

"..Can I come with you?"

"No."

And yet still, your footsteps followed behind his in sync, he knew you were there without having to turn around.

"Please?"

Chishiya sighed, "If your going to follow me anyways, why ask?"

"Common courtesy."

You picked up on the undertone of re-direction Chishiya tried to send your way- taking sharp turns and even pointed out a flock of pigeons that seemed to enjoy humans more than most- but you were in no rush. You stayed behind and stared at the pigeons for a while until you got bored, and until Chishiya was out of sight to start following his fresh footprints made in the dusty road.

When you saw he was rummaging around a convenience store, quite close to where he left you, you deemed he couldn't have minded you following him all that much if he stayed in a vicinity he knew you could find him at.

And that's how you ended up staying together, with Chishiya letting you tug him around to find a vacant house next to a clean stream, you gracing the house with a generator that works with solar power. If Chishiya was honest, it was about as convenient as the Beach, and considering the lack of Niragi - maybe even better. And, possibly, that's why he stayed.

With a high eyebrow he glanced between you and the plate set in front of him, completely un-moving he asked, "What's this?"

You wanted to roll your eyes. It was, by far, not the first time you've cooked for the man sense you've started to share the house together. It's not like you were doing this out of the goodness of your heart, for one it would be a shame to not use the house for what's its worth, and two it took your mind off.. well everything. And without fail, every time you've presented him with a plate, or a bowl, or a cup of coffee - he always acts likes you just placed a bomb in front of him.

Setting your own plate down, you sit across from him and make an attempt to match his unimpressed expression, you accidentally (very purposeful) kick at his shin under the table. "Sprinkle pancakes."

"I know that," he grumbles out after a inhale of a hiss, you are given a sharp glare, "But why?"

You shrug aimlessly, "You lack whimsy in your life."

Chishiya accepted that answer, all though he huffed audibly enough to make it known he was displeased by it.

Chishiya doesn't fully understand you, you both knew that - and your not sure if that was entirely a bad thing. He questioned why you cooked for him, why you followed him, why you would willingly live with him when you would obviously be fine alone, I mean you've gotten this far by yourself haven't you? And all he got in response were shrugs, or half assed answers that didn't really mean anything - and if you were honest, your still haven't figured that out yourself. Not why you helped him, but why you helped him specifically.

What you did know is that you didn't like being alone - which you did tell Chishiya, and he wasn't bad company to have - so you decided to keep him around. After all, it's not like you left him much choice.

Through a mouth full of pancake he muttered behind a napkin, "I'm going out today."

You eye'd Chishiya for a moment, as non compliant as he acted around your cooking he always seemed to have a large appetite for it. Cleaning his plate every time without fail, finishing it in the same ten minutes you put it down - and at least five of those minutes are spent making sure his mouth and hands are as clean as possible. At least if you have leftovers you know they're never going to waste.

"Thank god," you say, "It's getting boring around here."

"You're not going."

You scoff, Chishiya has a knack of not wanting you to go anywhere with him, no matter the circumstance.

"Chishiya, don't be so prissy." You scold, pointing an accusing fork his way - your insult didn't stop him from taking another bite, drenched so heavily in syrup you scrunch your nose up. It can't even taste like a pancake at that point.

"You're a hassle."

“Your ass is a hassle,” you retaliate, and when Chishiya stood up with an empty plate and walked passed you to the kitchen - you waited for the perfect moment before snapping a kitchen towel at him - just a little too far down his torso to even be consider his back anymore.

When he looked back you were innocently chewing down your last bite and staring at him questioningly, a hand towel laid limply on the other side of the room. The speed Chishiya spun around in was almost comical, your not sure your ever seen Chishiya move that fast willingly sense you've meet him.

"You're also childish."

Through his glare you could swear you saw just a flicker of a smile, a huff of amusement.

You let out an airy chuckle, "Can't deny that," A huff escapes your lips when you slump into your chair, you pause with your cup inches from your mouth and scan Chishiya.

"But you know, I need to go." You state, "I need a restock, and by the looks of it you could do with a bar of soap or two."

You knew what you were doing, and he knew it too - self care and whatever D-I-Y mechanical shit Chishiya was looking for were on opposite sides of the mall, therefor whenever you ran out, he was more willing to let you come along. Not that you need his permission, or that you'll listen to him anyway.

Chishiya dwelled for a few seconds - you could only assume wonder if you coming along or you complaining about him saying no was worse - although he's taking longer to contemplate than usual, and it made you wonder if this time he was actually being serious - but he nodded before you could take it back.

You tilt your head slightly in thought.

"You could do with an exorcist," he mumbles, taking your empty plate from the table, he looks thoroughly done when you huff out a sarcastic, "Wow, unbelievable, and here I thought we were friends." You decided to keep quiet after that, considering he looked a few seconds away from throwing your plate back at your head - or maybe that was always how his face looked.

While Chishiya made his way back to the hallway, you noticed he used both his hands to cover his backside from you - you had to hide a laugh behind your hand. For the sake of your life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The street laid empty, bare before you. No people, no animals, no man made noises - nothing except Chishiya and your own footsteps. And so you let him appreciate it, the only time you spoke was when you asked earnest questions or were responding back to his little quips towards you.

"Do you always walk this fast?"

"Obviously your warm, your wearing a jacket in eighty degree weather. I didn't point it out cause I thought it was just another one of your weird quirks."

"Can you not walk straight?"

"Why are you touching everything? Can't keep your hands to yourself?"

Most of the time you wonder why Chishiya even bothers - what does he get out of staying with you? If you know what your looking for you can find a duplicate generator, there are many other open stream and vacant homes to pick and yet he stays in the one you choose - with you - and engages in conversation and eats the food you make.

You have given him multiple chances at leaving, as persistent and prodding as you can be you both new it was mocked-up for your own amusement and that you wouldn't cry or beg for him to stay - he knew that, and yet he doesn't leave. And maybe it's just one of those things you don't ask aloud, and so you never have.

Twirling a small flower between your fingers you lead a few steps in front of Chishiya, while walking backwards - you had asked him to throw something at you if there was anything behind you just encase, after all you knew he wouldn't have taken it up if you just asked him to just tell you instead.

You squinted at the plant while holding it up towards him, pearly white petals that matched his jacket and textured line that matched his hair, you smiled - yup, that's the one.

"What are you doing?"

"I got you something."

You jogged the short distance and held your hand out, his eye's followed to where your fell - his nose scrunched up.

Chishiya held it between two fingers, dangling by a single petal he asked, "What am I supposed to do with this?"

You scowl at him, how ungrateful, "Sleep with it, tape it to your mirror, braid it into your hair-" you sarcastically remark, one foot after the other you stepped backwards, "-or you could be a normal person and just keep it."

"Why would I keep-"

As soon as your heel felt the jagged fall of your foot you knew what was coming, your body instinctively let out an 'oofh' sound when falling ass first down onto hard concrete.

You hissed sharply.

A pointed rock dug harshly into your skin, it prodded so hard into your muscle your sure it left an indent and Chishiya - the bastard - laughed.

A real laugh.

The first you've ever heard come out of the man, so much heavier than his usually light huffs of breath he lets out - and of course, it was at that.

Chishiya plucked a petal off the flower, and made an exaggerated 'throw' motion of it at your fallen figure.

"You're a bitch. Did you know that?”

Chishiya shrugged, a light shake of his shoulders still lingering from his laugh.

You followed up with strings of cuss words, having to help yourself up and rub out the pain in your hip - before turning around you notice Chishiya's finger loosen around the stem.

"If you drop that I'm killing myself."

Chishiya snorts, "Promise?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the first gun shot you already had a grasp of who it involved.

You were still inside the mall, searching around for more toothpaste and gauze - you even stocked up on a few unscented bar soaps to humor Chishiya. He had left you as soon as you too set foot in the mall, turning a sharp corner and mumbling out a "If you need me, don't."

By the time your brain even registered his comment he was too far gone to hear you comment back, you had to retaliate by flipping the back of his head off. Not as satisfactory, but it'll do.

It was uncannily quiet - just like always, and there was an uncomfortable tense of your body when the shot rang through the air. It echoed around the mall is waves, a mock sound in your ear - It made you stop your hand mind air, and for a second you didn't breath. A single shot, nothing like the kind of spades - your jaw tensed painfully.

A minute of silence, than another, and a another-

A second shot, a third, a fourth- you craned your neck to the window, to your irritation it was completely useless, covered in layers of muck and mold - your mind raced.

What were the chances Chishiya was stupid enough to get in a gun fight?

If you were wrong about him being involved, would you be willing to putting yourself at risk for the chance of his life being on the line? You thought back to his comment, if you need me, don't, did that also apply to you? Would he look down on you for reassuring yourself that he was okay?

Your eye's danced around the empty room, anxious and heavy breathed - in a split second you decided that it wouldn't matter what Chishiya thought about you if he was dead.

With heavy foot steps you jogged through the store, and out into the central building- faster than you would ever admit to him - and scanned the area hopefully. If Chishiya wasn't involved there would be a high chance he would wan't to be, or at the very least watch - you swallowed heavily, and tried to remind yourself to relax your jaw. The pounding of your lungs go unnoticed.

Chishiya wasn't here.

By the time you hesitantly peer around the entrance - hidden enough to jump back if you were threaten by another round of shots- it was silent, there was no sound to be made out, just the wind whistling in your ears. No heavy gunshot, no loud commotions, just.. nothing.

And if it wasn't for the sight of two figures, crouched down a few yards away you would have thought that you were going insane - the gunshots a fragment of your imagination- hell, in that moment you wouldn't be surprised if someone told you that Chishiya was too.

You let yourself slip from behind the frame, just far enough to squint blindly at the two. Neither of them were blond, which was a good sign - and your pulse should have calmed at that or the weight should have at least eased off your shoulders but instead it only made you glance around more frantically, throat clenching around itself tightly.

This was not the time to be playing fucking hide-and-seek.

Where the hell was he?

Unconsciously you took a few steps forwards, trying to seeking out every inch of ground before you - eyes scattered on around the road, at cars, in buildings- "Aw, shit."

For a moment, you were more worried you snapped your neck from how fast you turned your head rather than the man in front of you - although it was very short lived. Crumpled and bloody, fresh wounds mixed in with old scars that ran along his body - was he even properly alive?

The thought of helping him crossed your mind, although you didn't know who he was or why he was sprawled on in the middle of Tokyo street you did know that you had gauze - and a lot of it.

You paused to toe the gun away from him carefully.

He eye'd you for a second, than followed your line of sight to his wounds. He tilted his head back, just enough to stare into your eye's, a slight scowl burned on his lips- there was something familiar in his eyes. A certain vacant dullness in his stare at briefly reminded you of Chishiya - the mans scowl depend, dared you to say something. About his gunshot wound or his scars you didn't know.

Trying to find the words to say your head nodded, an almost frantic side to side motion, "Uh-"

A firm but uncharacteristically soft call of your name, and if you had time to decipher it you would almost say it sounded desperate. Throat muscles tensed as you swung your head around, tendons straining and yet you couldn't care - if you kept this up your head might as well just fall off.

"I would get away from him if I was you." Chishiya called, laboring his limbs to to try and sit up - his elbow shook underneath him before collapsing all together, he would have headbutted the ground if the boy with black hair wasn't holding him up.

A dark gradient of a hole bled through his shoulder.

"You know that piece of shit?" His voice was broken, raw and scratchy - his sentence broke in the middle, words coming out though gargles - and yet he seemed determine to finish it.

"Unfortunately," You croak - and after the initial shock still of your limps your feet dragged you forwards on autopilot, eye's that never left the pit that hallowed through his chest. You blindly searched through your jacket pocket - it was so unnatural to see Chishiya in such a state, one that left him vulnerable and raw, one you thought you would never get too see - you pulled out a large wad of bondage wrap, inhaling through your mouth when you felt your nose has become too restrictive of air.

It was even weirder having Chishiya openly stare at you while like that.

"Long time no see."

It was spoken through a breath, airy and light - his throat barley vibrating enough to be making any sounds at all. He was looking at you, or some place on you, you couldn't tell - he was bleeding and it was runing through the seeps of a hand and staining his jacket, his favorite jacket and you know it'll be a pain to scrub off and your don't remember the last time you took a full breath and Chishiya hissed when you tightly held the gauze to his wound - the girl moved her hand early on when she saw your attention to the wrap not touching the ground. What good will he be too you if he dies from an infection later on?

"Shut the fuck up."

"You this rude to every dying man?"

You held the gauze tighter, how could he be joking right now? With your hands desperately trying to hold his life intact? You glared at him through heavy lidded eyes, "Chishiya."

He grumbled something about you being 'no fun' under his breath, but hey, at least he was saving it.

"You're y/n?"

It was the girl, she had soft eyes and bloodied hands - blood of Chishiya's, warm, fresh blood that spilled onto the gauze, gauze that laid fisted in your hands - you blinked dryly. Your eyes stung and yet nothing was coming out of them - you swore it felt like someone was prodding around your brain from the inside.

You nodded silently, you didn't want to know how she knew your name or where she heard it from.

"You're doing this all wrong you know," Chishiya mumbles, his head still laid limply on the ground but now it was tilted at an angle he could see you at, "At this rate I'll be dead any minute now."

The word 'dead' bounced around in your mind like a ping pong ball, hitting each nerve that shortens your breath, and now you couldn't even come up with a snarky reply - you were half minded to tell him to shut up again, to save his breath - but all you could do was desperately push down a little harder on his wound, stack the gauze a little taller.

"Chishiya, I don't know what I'm doing, I-" You followed the strings of blood that fell in thick drops down is torso, they way they seeped through the bright clothes and the way his eye's seemed to soften ever so slightly around the edges wen you gave him a pleading look.

He couldn't die here, not like this, not by your inexperienced hands - not in a way so far from how anyone would've imagined it.

Chishiya huffed, but it wasn't malicious, "First off, you could calm down, I heard breathing helps-"

"Run!"

Guns shoots fire through the empty street, this time multiple - this time you knew it was the king of spades. Your flight or fight instinct kicked a small, fleeting thought to run, to save yourself, to shield from the bullets - but you ears were already ringing, and your hands were already stained and you knew you could escape - but Chishiya?

An amused grunt turned into one of surprise, than into one of pain - and you had to shift your entire body weight to lift Chishiya to sit up, one hand still occupied with putting pressure on his wound. You felt fidgeted, and you knew you were still slightly dazed but it didn't stop you from trying to shift Chishiya to hide behind a rusted car - one near a narrow alleyway that you thought would barricade the too of you.

Someone helped, weather it was the boy or the girl you didn't pay any mind too, but you mentally thanked whoever it was - maybe you shouldn't have been feeding him all those fatty meals after all. The position was awkward, and pulled at your joints in ways you didn't know your body could go - but it worked, a narrow miss of bullets shot a little too close to your head.

After some time the person left, and you clumsily pulled off your jacket to try and help aid Chishiya just a little more - thankfully when you glanced his way his eye's were still open, drowsily - but opened nonetheless. With a calculated pressure you knew would stop the bleeding, and yet not hard enough to harm him any worse, you pushed with one arm - another round of bullets, you feel beside him. A mix of mental and physical exhaustion assisted in pushing you down.

Another round of bullets, you brought your knees to your chest, a scream, you covered your head with your free arm - you were practically cuddled up to Chishiya, fresh blood stained your pants.

None of you spoke, both of you waited.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were alive.

The both of you were, and finally it was quiet. The same quiet that flooded around you just hours before, when Chishiya wasn't bleeding out and you were of sound mind. You felt stitched in positions, never removing your head from you lap and staring blankly into the small shadow that loomed under you, your jaw itched with tightness - and whenever Chishiya's breath got a little too shallow, too lifeless for your liking you pressed a little harder and waited for his breath to hitch - this time it didn't.

Your breath caught in your throat when you looked up - his head lolled to the side, eye's closed and chest unmoving - and you panicked. Blinking rapidly you snapped in front of his face - no response - you shook his shoulder harder than you knew he would let you while alive- no response - you palm etched out, coming down with a loud 'wack' as it hit his face, his lead shifted to the other side lazily. No response.

Your nails dug crescents into your palm and you tried to swallow but your throat wouldn't let you, you were just vaguely aware of the small huff of desperation you let out before moving to strick your palm back out, his name on the tip of your tongue-

"Ow."

A heavy breath feel from your mouth, one you weren't aware you were holding.

"You asshole!" You snarled, falling back on your heels. "I thought you were dead."

Chishiya's eyes fluttered open passively, "Odd reaction to a dead man."

If he wasn't already on the brink of death you would've killed him.

You finger curled tighter into a fist, palms still lingering with the force of the slap - dejected you fell back beside him, even with your hand covering your nose your small sniffle could be heard - in fact it seemed to be intensified by the open area. Hair hiding your face, you looked away. Stupid fucking alleyway.

"Are you crying?"

Chishiya really didn't need his ego to be boosted any higher than necessary.

"No." You mutter out, because you weren't, and your eye's were dry and your nose was fine, thank you very much. And even if your breath came out unevenly, and your heart hammered through your rib cage and pulsed with every flow of blood - he didn't need to know that. And he shouldn't know that because he wouldn't care, so why do you?

"It's a perfectly normal reaction by medical standers - in fact it's actual healthier too cry, if we wan't to go into-"

With the same palm that etched across his face you covered his mouth, "Too much talking, not enough breathing."

He stopped for a moment, and just when you were about to pull back and let his airway breath freely a slick, moist feeling ran along your middle finger - it took you a second to pull back, eyebrows furred and confused before you stared at your wet palm in horror.

"Ohmygodohmygod," you searched frantically, brain scrambled and confused as what the hell you were supposed to do with that.

"I think the blood loose has gotten to you," You note, wiping your hand along his pant leg aggressively, Chishiya stared back indifferently.

"You told me to breath while blocking a vital airway."

You glare at him, "You have a nose."

Chishiya lifted him shoulders aimlessly.

You didn’t take the time to answer, instead cupping around your blooded jacket that laid across his chest - the blood subsided vaguely, but not enough to make you any less anxious. There was still free flowing blood, and every time Chishiya moved he let out a groan - which with Chishiya, meant that it sent shock waves throughout his whole body.

“What do you think doctor, am I going to make it?”

You squinted at him aggravated, although you couldn’t deny the slightly engaging tone he held, “Why is it that only when you’re dying you have the urge to talk to me?”

“Funnily enough, right now is the only time I think I can tolerate your presence.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, deciding to ignore the underline of his words - after all, that was the closets thing to a compliment you think Chishiya is capable of. With a light touch you fling the sleeve of your jacket around his neck, creating a solid nest on-top of the wound, “Fatigued and half unconscious? How charming.”

He, decidingly, ignored you. “I’m a doctor.”

This made you pause, “An influence from my father, really. About the only influence he ever taught me.”

Chishiya’s eyes scanned the sky, jumping for cloud to cloud - and you couldn’t tell where his head was at. Where was this coming from? A slight furrow deepened between your eyebrows, and not to discourage him you continued to work your way around his gunshot.

“It was a futile attempt. I felt the same before as I did after.” Chishiya paused to drop his gaze to you, “People like you irk me. Simple as that. I find your selflessness stupid, and your optimism childish - and becoming a doctor didn’t change that.”

For a moment you thought he was joking - ready to roll you eyes and push your jacket down a little harder - but with a hardened look you realized he was serious. Chishiya looked as though he just asked you your favorite color, calm and collected and entirely raw.

And though his front was put together, carefully crafted like a jigsaw puzzle, your noticed the way his shoulders tightened back like he was bracing to be pushed away, his own fingers crawling to your jacket in hand - he expected you to let go, to hit him or yell, and maybe thats what he wanted.

But you were stubborn, and you would hate to give Chishiya what he wanted.

Heavily sighing, you let your weight fall back into him, still being cautious of his side.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You weren’t shocked to hear it. Disappointed? Maybe, but purely out of fact he tried something so obscure to urge you away - to deny a hand trying to help - and he thought it would be that easy.

You confirm an, “Okay.”

It was silent.

Chishiya breathing heaved a little more heavily than before, but his body loosened - you never knew he was tensed in the first place. Your breathing wasn’t any better - you swore a game of diamonds gave you asthma, making you breath spores for almost an hour straight - and even now if felt like they were blindly trying to claw there way out of your throat in every direction.

You felt a slight shift behind your shoulder, than a cold hand brushing your hair from you neck. Goosebumps appearing where his fingers laied - before resting on your pulse and he just.. stayed there.

Nibble fingers pressed against your skin, and it didn’t feel bad - farthest thing from it. And from time to time he’d circle his finger when he’d lose the thump of your heart, before finding it again. The motion would repeat.

"All surviving players will be presented with two choices. Players must now decide whether to accept permanent residency, or decline it."

"I want-" Chishiya voice was coarse when he spoke, and his finger dragged back down, "To turn it down, I think."

You gave a tiny smile, to no one but yourself, "I want.." his finger started to trail back up the hallow of your neck, "To accept."

Chishiya's finger froze.

#x reader #aib chishiya #alice in borderland #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya shuntaro x reader #chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro x you #chishiya x fem!reader #chishiya x you #aib x reader #aib fanfic #aib #alice in borderlands headcanons #alice in borderlands #chishiya

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nosyp · 1 month ago

Text

Drunken Madness

Warnings = Yandere, noncon, possessive behaviour, infantilization, drinking addiction/problem, threesome (F-M-M), oral sex (reader recieving, slight suga), chains, power imbalance

Pairing = Yan! Sugawara Koushi x fem! reader x Yan! Daichi Sawamura

Summary = You come home drunk, but you hadn't expected them to take advantage of that.

Word count = 4.2k

A/N = Idk if I like this one or not... if you don't like it please don't tell me :(

The music in the party was loud, everyone was dancing to the music while you were busy sitting at the bar to regain your sanity. But— going to parties doesn't make you sane does it?

“Hey Seb-seb… seb… ugh whatever, m-mind giving me… a… no— 2— actually— shots of… whatever I had before?” you ask, words slurring as you prop your head on your hand.

“Are you sure you want these 2 shots y/n? You’ve already taken 50 in less than 4 hours.” the guy behind the counter says.

“Just give me it please,” you beg, turning your foggy eyes to him.

With a sigh full of worry, he goes to the cabinet to grab another bottle of the tequila you liked. He swiftly brings out two small shot glasses and fills them both up.

“Thanks,” you say, immediately chugging the two shots afterwards. There’s a smooth, satisfying burn that follows with the drink, and you don’t know why, but you’re addicted to it. You’re not a heavy drinker… or maybe you are… just a tiny bit.

It all started back in highschool when you met the wrong people at the wrong time. They dragged you out from under the rock and pressured you into taking a shot… and another… and another. You hadn’t realised how bad the side effects could be at that time— plus, you really wanted to be closer to them, and the dumb younger you thought that was the easiest way.

Slowly by slowly, you started to get addicted to drinking alcoholic beverages and you’d do it unconsciously— even when the group of friends weren’t with you. As the time passed by, and also since you went to the same bar you’ve ever known, you started to kind of get close to a couple of people there.

There was Sebastian, the bartender, and 2 super hot guys that you recently met. Their names were Daichi Sawamura and Sugawara Koushi. While you were taking your usual 100 shots of whatever the hell you were drinking, they came up to you. They offered to pay for your drinks and asked for your number— which you so graciously decided to do since you thought since they were nice enough to pay for your bill, how bad could they be?

And speak of the devil, they’re right there, sitting at one of the fancier booths and you mustered up the courage to go talk to them. They weren’t with any other of their usual wealthy guy friends, so it’s just the two of them.

“Heyyy… how— hic! H-how are you guys doing…?” you ask. Your head hurt so much to the point you were seeing circles, but you pushed on.

“Oh! Hey, come take a seat beside me.” the silver haired boy replies, tapping the place on the sofa beside him. “So what brings you here, pretty girl?”

“Oh… y’know… the usual.” you answer.

“The usual?” Daichi asks from across the table.

“Y-hic! Yeah…” you answer.

“Specify please hon,”

—

You hadn’t realised why they were being sooo awfully sweet to you at that time— you just chalked it up with the thought that they were raised “right”. In the first like… two or three months of you three getting to know each other, you’ve gotten a place in their apartment. You insisted that you would be unfit staying with them and invading their privacy but they wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Obviously you three grew closer but really, the only times you do meet is at the apartment and at the bar— nothing more, nothing less.

“Hey y/n, did you buy the milk yet?” Suga asks, scanning the fridge with his hand on the metal handle.

“Ugh… no I haven’t.” you reply, rubbing your temples to indicate that you're dizzy.

“I did though,” Daichi says as soon as he enters the room. He holds two full paper bags on both of his arms, using his left foot to close the door behind him.

You watch as he sets them down on the counter and takes the stool beside you. He crosses his arms on the kitchen island and takes a short, fleeting glance at you before looking back at Suga.

“You should be more responsible,” Suga mutters, snapping you back into reality.

Your head felt like it was in a daze, like you were stuck in an impossible domain. “Hey— you chose to let me live here, c’mon.” you whine.

“That doesn’t mean you can ignore it when we ask you to do something.” Daichi cuts in, scolding you as if he was your father.

You turn your head to Suga, giving him pleading eyes to ask him for help. “You should listen to Daichi.”

“Oh come onn… don’t be such a fun sucker, Suga.” you say softly, rubbing your temples. “Shortened as fucker by the way.”

“Language.” Daichi’s sharp tone cuts in.

Daichi was quite strict about the use of words in the household so it felt like walking on eggshells since you had to watch your tongue. It was so stupid. Being a grown adult was supposed to mean that you could do anything you wanted but he didn’t let that happen.

You scoffed and your face scrunched on instinct. “Sure, whatever. Anyways, I think I’m going on a date tonight so… I might come back later than usual.” You say.

“Later than usual meaning by way over curfew?” Daichi rechecks with you.

Right— curfew. You’re not even sure why you agreed to it. They implemented so many rules for you to the point that it felt like they were your parents.

“I still don’t get why I need curfew. I’m a grown woman.” You reply, crossing your arms and pouting.

You feel Suga’s arms wrap around your waist, tightly squeezing as he nuzzles his head into your neck.

“M-mmh… Suga go away,” you lightly push him but he doesn’t budge.

“Who’s gonna protect you if someone tries to do this to you huh…” he starts. “And especially if it’s another man too.”

“Suga, please. I can handle myself.” you say, still trying to push his arms away.

“You sure?” an amused smirk appears on Daichi’s face as he shakes his head.

“I-I’ve got to go to bed…” you hop off the stool, causing Suga to finally let go of you.

Rushing, you go into your bedroom and lock the door behind you. You let out an exhausted sigh and lean on the door, sliding down into a fetal position with your legs tucked in.

Tears welled up in your eyes and poured out— not being able to hold it. You don’t know what it was— overstimulation, exhaustion, or even just being heavily inebriated?

It’s probably the last one… why do you do this to yourself every single time?

Was it being able to escape reality, conformity or what? It definitely wasn’t the throwing up or dizziness afterwards.

You ask yourself that question every time you drink— which is almost every day. Luckily you have those two to pull you out of the gutter. Even though it seems like you hate them, you really do appreciate them with everything you have.

You didn’t even realize you’d fallen asleep until the dull throb in your head woke you up in the morning. Everything felt sticky— your skin, your throat, your thoughts. Your eyes blink open to see the dim light spilling in from underneath the door.

You don’t remember when you laid on the bed. All you remembered was being curled up near the door earlier, weren’t you?

You sit up slowly, gripping your skull to subdue the pounding at your head. The silence of the apartment is eerie. A part of you hopes they’re asleep but another part of you dreads the idea of being left alone with yourself.

A knock on your door.

You flinch awake. But still groggy.

“Y/n,” Daichi’s voice says quietly. His voice always sounds calm. A little too calm. Like the stuff he’s wanting to say is locked behind his teeth. “Can I come in?”

You stare at the door. Please say no. Say no. Say— “Yeah…”

The door creaks open. He walks in carefully, like you’re made of glass. Maybe you are. You hate it in both cases.

“I brought you water,” he says, placing a glass on your bedside table. He sits on the edge of the bed, massaging your leg.

“Thanks,” you mutter. You don’t touch it, despite every part of your body screaming for you to take it.

He sighs through his nose. “Suga’s asleep.”

You nod. Your fingers twitch in your lap. Daichi’s eyes narrow as he takes you in. You must look like shit.

“Why do you do this?” he asks finally, making you sit up and pulling you in closely. His voice isn't harsh, not soft. He’s tired. Not exhausted but tired of your silly mistakes that he has to fix.

You blink up at him. “What?”

“This,” he gestures vaguely at you. “Drinking until you drop? You should really stop before something bad happens.”

“Who said I liked it…?” you mutter. “I do it because it’s comforting. It’s an easy way to escape the real world y’know?”

He starts pulling you closer onto his lap, stroking your hair softly and holding you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world. The body heat radiating off him transferred to you, letting you melt into his touch.

“Not very efficient if you always wake up to an even worse feeling, no?” he cups your chin and makes you look up at him.

He couldn’t believe how cloudy your eyes were. You keep digging and digging a grave for yourself voluntarily.

Sleepily blinking, you murmured, “W-what…?” and then another wave of sleep crashes over you. It was the umpteenth time that you’d surrender yourself to the unconscious world.

It was broad daylight when you woke up again, somehow with an even worse condition than before. When you saw the reflection of yourself in the mirror, you’d hardly recognize what you were looking at. Bloodshot red eyes; greasy, oily hair; and heavy, dark bags under your eyes.

Partying never lets you come out looking as proper as you when you came in.

You did your morning stuff like brush your teeth, shower and even a little bit of breakfast.

“Still a bit dizzy?” Suga asks, tilting his head while giving you a small smile.

“Yeah… but I think I’ll be fine.” You mutter, grabbing another spoonful of the breakfast you’re eating.

He didn’t say anything else after that, neither did you. That was until he spotted you getting ready to go out.

“Where are you going all dressed up, doll?” He asks, scanning your body.

“Nowhere…” you mumbled, fixing your dress.

“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me,” he traps you in his embrace. You feel like a bear fallen into the traps placed by the hunters.

“I-I’m going to go to a thing with my friends,” you answered, leaving some bits out of it.

He squeezes your side. “What thing?”

“Just a restaurant y’know, nothing too fancy or special.” You reply, placing a hand on his chest to put some space between you and him.

“Awfully short for a simple restaurant,” he hikes his hand up your dress.

“Stop it!” You smack him and roll your eyes. “I’m going.”

With that, you leave the room and decide to spend some time outside— alone. They’d always hated when you ventured outside alone without anyone else because it was apparently dangerous for you to be out and about by yourself. It was always stupid of them for caring so much.

The apartment started to grow stuffier by time. It’s like they’re playing a game of who can suffocate you more and label it as being ‘caring’. All you wanted to do was crawl up into a ball and disappear every time they got too controlling.

The soothing, cool night air had always calmed you, no matter what season it was. It could’ve been winter and freezing cold yet you’d still prefer it to be night. It was the serenity of the atmosphere that made it calming. Nobody was there to pester you, a stark contrast from parties.

If only you could make it night all day long. Maybe you could if you were the one in control of the apartment, then you’d leave it all dark and scary but much more comforting.

That’s how you got the bright idea of moving out. You were an adult. This wasn’t the first time the idea ran through your mind. You’d have to do it without telling them of course, since they’d go crazy if you were to tell them you’re moving out.

Secretly, and slowly, you packed your clothes and necessities shortly after arriving back to your shared apartment with them. Once the night had started to grow darker, you shoved the key into the hole, sighing in relief and excitement for the future.

You’d have to be stupid to believe that would’ve worked. In movies, the villain always loses, but in reality it’s a different story. That’s why they’re called villains. All they’re there is to ruin your life.

It hadn’t even been 3 months since you ran away from them to bring you back into their palms. A few months might’ve seemed long enough but to you, it felt like a dream.

You swore you left no trace at all. You threw away your phone, along with the SIM card and all the other stuff. Phone, laptop, all the devices were gone. Even your clothes were subject to being thrown out. Not even sure you could replace it with the meager amount of money you brought.

They had connections, plans, money— more than you at least. But this was a private matter that they wouldn’t dare bring other parties into.

What you didn’t know was that they knew the whole time. That was an exaggeration. They were panicking when they waited a day or two for you to show up. When you didn’t, they’d get concerned.

At first you’d settle with just being left alone and hiding inside the small hotel room you booked for yourself— paid with cash. Daring to go out partying was where you made the mistake.

Parties were their domain. Do you know why? Why they have so much money? Because they’re the ones that own most clubs in multiple different cities across the country. That’s how they managed to keep their creepy eyes on you the whole time, and now isn’t any different. Each and every worker that belonged to them were trained to keep their watchful eyes on you.

So when they got the information about you at the club that was in a whole other city, they were intrigued. And of course, notified.

To make it even better, you even made a new friend at the new club. His name was Daniel and much better than the two you’d left back at home— if you could even call it that.

It was the easiest and fastest you’ve clicked with someone. You two shared interests, likes and dislikes. That’s when you two officially started dating. The best part was that he promised to stop smoking if you were to quit drinking heavily.

It was all good beside the fact that you lied. You just kept drinking and getting inebriated while he wasn’t there. That’s how you forgot about the date you had with him, and ended up going drinking and getting the break up text from him. Nobody wants to break up over text, but you weren’t thinking straight, you couldn’t even blame him, it was you who ruined the relationship.

Then, you started chugging more shots and more until your head and limbs ached for you to stop. Going home, you crashed onto the wall and faded off into unconsciousness. But right before you did, you heard a soft click of the door.

—

Waking up, you couldn’t even comprehend it. You swore you didn’t bring Daichi back to the hotel, so why is he here?

“Don’t hurt yourself.” Daichi’s voice is calm. Soft. He steps inside, dressed casually, holding a folded towel in one hand and tea in the other. “You’re still recovering.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, staring at the heavy restraints sticking you to the bed. “Daichi. What the hell is this?”

He tilts his head. “What it looks like.”

“Are you fucking insane?! Take it off! Right now—!” you shake against the chains. “A-and where are my clothes?!”

“I will take them off,” He puts down the stuff onto the table under the tv and closes the door behind him with the same soft click you heard before passing out. “once we’re sure you won’t run off again.”

“I’m not a dog!” you shriek.

“No. You’re worse.” His voice doesn’t change. He walks over to you and crouches, his face level with yours. “Dogs are loyal. Dogs listen when you tell them to stay.”

You scoot back against the headboard, your hands trembling. His eyes flick to your wrist. You didn’t even realize it. There are faint red marks, probably from where you gripped yourself in your sleep. You don't even remember crying.

“I carried you to bed,” he murmurs, brushing your hair away from your face. “You were cold. Shaking. You said his name.”

“…Whose name?”

“The one you were supposed to go on a date with. Dave? David? Or something like that,” His voice drops to a whisper. “You could also call him the one who isn’t here anymore.”

Your blood runs cold. “…What did you do?” you ask panicking.

“You don't need to worry about that. He wasn’t important.” Daichi presses a kiss to your temple. “You don’t even remember his face right now, do you? That’s good. Means it didn’t mean anything.”

“Daichi,” you gasp, “this isn’t normal— this isn’t you—”

“Oh, it is,” he chuckles lowly. “You just didn’t see it until now.”

The door creaks again. You think you might be able to scream— but it’s only Suga.

He steps in, barefoot and smiling lazily. “Aww. You started without me?”

“She’s being difficult again,” Daichi says with a mock sigh. “But we’re working on it.”

Suga moves over to the bed, crouches on your other side. You’re trapped between them. His hand cups your cheek, warm but trembling with excitement. “You should’ve seen how scared he was, y/n. That little date of yours. Kept saying he didn’t know you were ‘taken.’ Cute, right?”

Your body shakes. “You didn’t have to—”

“You don’t get to decide what we have to do,” Daichi says gently, but there’s a sharpness behind it. “You lost that privilege when you started sneaking around. Lying. Drinking yourself to death. We saved you.”

“You should be grateful,” Suga whispers, pressing his lips to your neck. You flinch. “We’re the only ones who stayed.”

“You don’t have to be scared,” Daichi adds, placing a hand over your wrist, thumb brushing gently over your pulse. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

“Unless you keep misbehaving,” Suga mutters with a smile.

You choke on your breath.

You’re not sure what’s more terrifying. The fact that they did all this to you… Or that part of you knew, deep down, from the very start how sadistic and cruel they actually were. And you stayed up until then. Until it was far too late.

“Anyways, onto the main part.” Suga crawls in between your spread legs. “Give me the towel,” Daichi hands the silver hair a towel and he places it underneath your bare ass.

“W-wait! W-what are you doing—?” your heart beats faster.

“Teaching you a lesson baby,” Suga rubs your folds with his index and middle finger. “and look… you’re all ready for it.”

You immediately thrash against the constraints. “Let me go! Stop it! I’ll do anything but this! Please!”

“Nono… it’s too late baby,” Suga grabs a bottle of lube and squirts a generous amount on his two fingers. “This is going to be cold but don’t worry… it’s gonna help you.”

Help you? For what?

He slips his lubed fingers into your ass, a squelching sound accompanying it. “Good girl,” he purred, thoughts of what he’s going to do to you crossing his mind, making him even more excited than he already is.

“No! No!” You start to thrash again, every part of you regretting every decision you made leading up to this point.

You should’ve never accepted them, never had given them your number, never even interacted with them, should’ve left sooner… and maybe then this wouldn’t have happened. You’re an idiot, an imbecile, weak.

When it came to danger, you were powerless. Your body ached from the dangerous amounts of alcohol you consumed the night before and heart shattered into pieces, leaving them to pick it up for you, regardless of whether or not you wanted it.

He slaps your clit with his other hand. “Behave.”

You only sob, desperately trying to close your legs but Daichi grabs your thigh and forces it apart, his hand leaving another red mark on your thigh.

“What the heck?! Stop it please!” you cry, kicking your legs into the air.

Another harsh slap between your legs, making you flinch and grip the sheets.

You start hyperventilating, trying to catch your breath while calming yourself down.

“Are you ready for your punishment?” Suga asks, ignoring the fact that you’re in the middle of a meltdown that he helped cause.

Daichi fucked his warm tongue into you, lapping at your clit to no end. His hands were placed on your inner thigh, keeping your legs spread wide open for him.

You couldn’t help but buckle your hips— legs twitched in desperation, pulled at his hair, clawed at his back. But you didn’t want this.

“Y’know, we could’ve let you do anything else but trying to replace us? Us? We weren’t going to let that slide.” Suga mentions, gently cupping your chin to make you look at him, but not enough for your mind to stray from the main show. Then he squeezes, telling you to open your mouth to let him in. “You know our job right?”

Daichi curled his tongue inside you, making you arch your back in unwanted pleasure.

“S-stop…” you mewled, tears staining your cheeks as his member slowly slid into your mouth, sliding along your hot tongue.

“Ughh, you didn’t answer me,” Suga groans and makes you look at him again, a scary undertone hiding in his eyes. “You know our job right?”

Temporarily, the tears stopped and you nodded lightly, hips still moving along with Daichi’s rhythm. His hand was still on your chin as he pulled it out softly, he doesn’t seem to be wanting a blowjob from you just yet.

“That was just a taste test,” he flashes a grin, hand now grabbing your scalp.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I-I don’t know— ahh!” You moaned. “What you want from me… t-though,”

“Want… from you? We want you.” Suga adds, the distance between you two closing as he crashes his lips onto yours.

You moaned into his mouth, instinctively rolling your eyes all the way back as you orgasm over Daichi’s tongue.

“F-fuck… good girl,” Daichi groaned, palming the tent in his pants while his eyes lingered on the now wet towel.

“Go away! Please leave me alone…” you begged, tears starting to stream down your face again.

“Suga,” Daichi called. “Switch.”

Momentarily, they stopped, taking their time to switch their positions, sliding their hands softly as they moved. They handled you as if you were a fragile piece of art, yet was harsh enough to make you understand what you are— theirs.

—

You woke up in between them, their bodies tangled with yours on the bed. They were both sleeping soundly while you were internally panicking. When you got up, you slowly realised that they took the chains off of you. But why? Didn’t they want to keep you?

Taking a moment to calm down and get used to the pain roaming around your body, a lingering reminder of last night, you tried your best not to let the tears flow again and not to make a sound. Having them wake up would be to sacrifice the morning peace.

You can’t stay. You can’t even trust them. But it’s not worth it to run again. The awful thoughts made your mind hazy, as if it wasn’t already aching and gnawing at you.

Then, you felt a familiar warmth— not comforting, just factual— feeling wrapped around you. It’s Daichi, possessively holding you as if you were his lifeline.

“Good morning,” he pressed a kiss to the back of your head and nuzzled his head into your neck but it didn’t feel as nice as it used to. “Did you have a good rest?”

You let out a quiet sigh, and nod lightly, realising that this is your fate for the rest of your life.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere daichi sawamura #yandere daichi #sawamura daichi #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura #yandere daichi sawamura x reader #daichi x reader x suga #yandere suga #yandere koushi sugawara #sugawara koushi #suga x reader #dividers by @cafekitsune

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amoreva · 2 years ago

Note

yes i’m so glad you’re writing for clarisse because im obsessed with your writing.

could you write something with reader being a really confident and vain daughter of aphrodite who channels her mothers war goddess attributes and is one of the best sword fighter in camp? also playful teasing from reader and sparring because 1 i need justice for the massacre of aphrodites character and 2 clarisse x aphrodite!reader is essential to my life force. haters can hate.

maybe also show how other campers interact with her as well, like luke showing percy around idk

LOVER AND A WARRIOR

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

pairing: clarisse la rue x daughter of aphrodite!reader

summary: clarisse has always been a hard hitter and a tough lover, but a certain someone from aphrodite makes her soft. and she doesn’t entirely mind it.

warnings: use of “y/n” once or twice, kinda switches to percy’s pov, fighting, almost death(?), fluff, mentions of beckendorf!!

a/n: i really hope i did this request right! enjoy! i was trying to crank this out as soon as i could.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

Everyone thought you’d be claim by Ares (even though your dad was still very present and not a god) or at least by Athena. You were smart and a hell of a lot strong; both mentally and physically.

So it came to a surprise when Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, claimed you.

Though, Clarisse knew you were her daughter. You were every bit of passionate: about life, hobbies, interests, her. You paid attention to every little detail that flew out of her mouth (she noticed).

It didn’t help that you channeled your mother’s past title and abilities. After all, in Sparta, she was known as Aphrodite Aeria, “Aphrodite the Warlike”.

Clarisse was head over heels for you the minute she saw you fight (you even bested Luke, how was she not supposed to not fall in love with you?)

You and Clarisse started dating at the peak of the Summer Solstice and never looked back. No one knew Clarisse could be so…tolerating to someone outside of her cabin, especially to one of Aphrodite’s daughter.

Percy surely didn’t expect it either.

Clarisse was so callous and you were compassionate. He guessed that thing about opposites attract was true.

“Look, you want attention here, dummy?” Clarisse spoke condescendingly to the newest camper. She just couldn’t believe a scrawny kid took down the Minotaur. “You better be ready for it when it comes.”

Clarisse made Percy flinch and walked past Hermes’ kids. An amused smile plastered on her face. Luke shook his head as Ares’ kids passed which begged the question. “Why don’t they mess with you?” Percy asked.

“They know better.” Luke smirked.

“Luke’s the second strongest swordsman in camp.” Chris added with a proud grin.

“Who’s the first?”

“Y/N.”

Suddenly, you walked by in perfect timing. Percy’s eyes glued to you. You witnessed the whole situation and went to talk to your girlfriend. “Clarisse…” You muttered.

Percy watched Ares’ daughter soften at the mention of her name from your lips. Nothing in the facial expressions, it was all in the eyes.

“She doesn’t look menacing or intimidating—” Percy acknowledged.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Luke reminded as he glanced back at you and Clarisse. “Got my ass handed to me when I sparred with her.”

Percy looked at Luke. “Really? Can I train with her?”

•••

It wasn’t odd to find Clarisse in Aphrodite’s cabin; nor was it odd to find the two of you cuddling on your bunk. Sunlight beaming onto the two of you and the only sounds were the campers outside. All of your siblings when do go enjoy camp activities while you read to Clarisse.

Ancient Greek flows from your mouth like the water from River Styx. Clarisse had one arm haphazardly thrown across your abdomen. Her head perched on your shoulder.

Silently, she admired the way your lips moved. The way you were invested into the story. The way she can see all the tiny details on your gorgeous face from this position.

Clarisse found herself falling for you more and more with each second of the day. She was aggressive and intimidating. She was Ares’ favorite daughter after all, but she found herself becoming more softhearted to you.

“You’re my…everything.” Clarisse whispered fondly. It might’ve been a slip of the tongue, but it made you blush.

She never failed to make you blush. Your rosy cheeks complimented with a sheepish grin. “Clarisse…” You mumbled and put down the book.

“I mean it.” Clarisse stated firmly and sat up on her elbow. Her heart locket fell from her orange Camp t-shirt. It matched yours, except you had a sword charm. Clarisse insisted on giving it to you (after threatening Beckendorf once or twice) for your two month anniversary.

“I know.” You reassured and pecked her lips quickly. Clarisse smiled and dived back in to press her lips into yours

A giggle erupted from you. A rush of dopamine intoxicating your brain. It always felt like the first kiss with her. “I love you, I love you, I love you—” You repeated into her lips.

“I get it, lovergirl.” Clarisse chuckled as she pulled away. Her cheek tinged with pink. “I love you too.”

She continued. “Will you keep reading? You sound so beautiful when you read—”

“Clarisse!” You exclaimed. Your blush even more prominent.

“What? I can’t tell my girlfriend she has a voice from the sirens that could bring the Big Three to tears?”

“Clarisse…”

“Keep reading, lovergirl.”

•••

“This is safe, right?” Percy asked Grover.

“Yeah! Perfectly safe.” Grover reassured with a smile.

Luke had recruited you to help train Percy (Clarisse just so happened to tag along). There were swords in all of your hands. You were going to fight Clarisse and Luke and Percy doubted you were that good.

It was all to help Percy learn more about fighting with the sword and a great way to show off. The forest clearing gave enough room to really show your talents in combat.

“Don’t go easy on me!” You yelled at Clarisse and Luke on the other side of the clearing. Percy and Grover were sitting on rather large rocks anticipating the battle.

You took a deep breath and your eyes hardened. It was like switched had been flipped within you. You shifted your foot, sliding it in the dirt. The air felt different. Tense, sharp, lung-crushing.

Clarisse and Luke tightened their grip on their swords and gave each other a confirming nod. Percy and Grover watched as the three older half-bloods charged one another.

With precision and quick-wit, you were able to keep Clarisse and Luke on their toes. Luke shifted his weight in his feet before charging you again. You clashed swords. Celestial Bronze against Celestial Bronze.

Your ears perked up on shoes slapping against the dirt. You ducked causing Clarisse to swing at Luke. There was no trace of a your warm sweet smile Percy saw, only your hardened gaze.

It was kind of scary to see Aphrodite’s daughter switch up so fast.

Clarisse cursed under her and swiped her sword as if flicking off imaginary blood. She met your gaze, her heart skipped a beat. She rushed you again and swiped your legs. You jumped back with the grace of a swan, but Clarisse parried her sword immediately after.

You riposted Clarisse when Luke cane out from behind Clarisse to continue an onslaught of attacks. You scoffed quietly, but you could never complain. It was a good workout.

Yet, a particularly heavy swing from you knocked Luke’s sword from out of his hand. His sword flinging at Percy’s head. Percy shouted and ducked.

“Oh my gods!” You exclaimed and slapped your heads over your mouth in surprise.

Clarisse and Luke stopped their attacks and looked back at Percy and Grover. Luke’s celestial bronze sword was sticking out of a tree. Percy centimeters away from the blade.

You apologized for your reckless behavior. Percy was more scared of how fast you switched from your focused nature to a worried attitude.

“It’s okay…” Percy laughed nervously.

“He said he was fine!” Clarisse called out and walked towards you, pressing a small kiss to your cheek.

“Sorry, Percy.” Luke apologized.

“A lover and a fighter. Got it.” Percy noted in his mind as you complained to Clarisse about feeling bad about impaling Percy.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #percy series #clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse la rue pjo

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eureka-its-zico · 2 years ago

Text

Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 3

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention.

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frenemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 12.6+

A/N: Guys. Idk where to start, but this chapter needs a warning because it is big and beefy. I didn’t want the 1.03-1.04 story arc to be dragged out further into 4 chapters and, because of that, this chapter exists. I truly hope it is one that you enjoy. It took a lot of time and love. So please, get out some 🍿 cause it’s going to be a ride. P.S. To everyone who has liked, commented, reblogged, and sent me messages about Chaos in Their Bones: thank you. You have all made this such a wonderful experience and a fun one. I hope it continues to be one you enjoy 🖤 Much Love, Jenn

Chapter 1 Previous Next

So far Operation Petty was getting off to a rough start.

Your original plan of stealing every glass of wine Zoro poured seemed like a good one. Golf claps for everyone. Except, that good idea slowly began to disappear five glasses ago.

Unfortunately for you, and to the dismay of the entire table, you were a giggling mess.

After the sixth glass you were lucky you could even see straight. It wasn’t until after Zoro poured the next glass and slid it over to you the wheels in your head finally added all the small clues you’d missed. Zoro had let you think you’d stolen glass after glass of his wine. When in reality, he’d just been trying to get you drunk.

Zoro was already on his fourth bottle of wine and still seemed able to function like a person.

You leaned, not so gracefully, over to his side of the table. A “Psst,” hiccuping out of you to garner his attention. You knew you had it. He was just hiding a majority of his face inside the glass.

Just to make sure though - “Psst!”

“Ugh, Doc, we can all hear you,” Usopp said somewhere behind you.

You waved him off. Your eyes honed in on both Zoro’s.

“What do you want?” He hummed.

“Hey, Mosshead,” you snapped. That got his head to swivel an inch away from the safety of the glass. “You did this on purpose.”

You were leaning so far forward your cheek was almost flush with your arm. Your fingers wiggled near him and you watched as his eyes darted down to watch them before side-eyeing you.

“Yup,” he answered, sharply pronouncing the p. “You want to steal my wine as payback, well I can drink you under the table.” You weren’t expecting him to drop the glass and move towards you. The movement wasn’t huge, but he was closer than you anticipated and it made you scared to blink. “I can be petty too.”

Fuck.

He was so close - almost kissably close and - No! Why are you thinking of kissing at a time like this? When Zoro’s close enough you could see the sun kissed freckles that dusted over the top of his cheeks and nose. The playful glint in his eyes that brightened them to shine like mini constellations.

With a devious smirk sliding across his lips, Zoro regarded you one last time before he straightened up. His hand reaching out to take back the glass he’d previously sat down and brought it back up to his lips.

“You are diabolical,” you huffed.

When you went to straighten up, you felt your world tilt. You were going to need - “Can I get some water, please?”

You needed to sober up and fast. Inwardly, you could already hear your inner monologue being set up to chastise your childish behavior. You were so worried about Zoro and annoying him that it was all you focused on.

I’m not here for him.

You’d come with Usopp with the goal in mind to help Kaya. That was who you’d come here for and who you still had every intention to help. The plan to do so was still there, but somehow within the last few hours you’d allowed yourself to be distracted by a pretty face.

A soft cough from Kaya’s direction was all the clarity necessary to get your head back on straight. Or as straight as it could be in your current state. No more Zoro. No more looking at him, talking to him, looking at him-

You could sense him moving off to your right, but you were not going to look. Nope. Most definitely not going to look, but was your head tilting?

Drunk you seriously needed to work on some self-control.

You were heavily lost in your head again. So lost that you weren’t sure how many times Luffy or anyone else attempted to bring you into a conversation. It wasn’t until a gentle hand on your shoulder jolted you back into the present.

Looking to your left, you saw Usopp waiting for you to answer him. His concern etched into every scrunch of his face.

“Luffy asked how long you’ve been a doctor,” he offered slowly, as if he spoke too fast he’d lose you again.

“Well, technically, I’m a doctor-in-training.”

“So, not a real doctor.”

Of course, Zoro just had to butt in. You still weren’t going to look at him.

“I am a doctor. Naan has taught me over the years how to handle every illness and broken bone that has come through this village. I think one of the biggest things she’s taught me is that sometimes kindness can be the strongest medicine and other times defending those who can’t defend themselves is a bigger responsibility.”

“Wow,” Luffy smiled in response. “You must have helped a lot of people. Your grandma must be really proud of you.”

Luffy looked so…genuine. The very thought of you going out of your way to help others seemed to make him regard you differently. While the smile on his face wasn’t expansive and filled with its usual childlike mischief, it held one of praise. As if it was a rare thing for someone to have the drive to help another person. Maybe over the last decade or so that might have been true, but Naan didn’t raise you to turn a blind eye to those in need.

You couldn’t help but respond to Luffy’s smile with one of your own. Although, you hoped it didn’t wilt as you prepared yourself with your reply.

“She’s an orphan,” Sham interjected as she set down a dinner plate that was intricately decorated with fish and vegetables. “Usopp too. Isn’t that right?”

Not true. Orphan meant that there had been no one there for you. No family to help take care of you when you needed protection, and while Naan wasn’t your real grandma she was family because she chose to be.

You dropped your hands down into your lap and could feel your fingers curl into your palms.

“What does it matter if they’re orphans or not?” Your eyes narrowed in on Nami. She sat beside Luffy, opposite of Usopp, and her cool gaze was trained on Sham. She watched closely while Sham placed the next plate hastily down in front of Usopp. “I’m curious to hear your answer.”

“Forgive my staff, Miss,” Klahadore stepped in. “Sham spoke out of turn when it was not her place.”

“I’m sure she meant no harm, Klahadore.”

Kaya smiled up at him and he responded with a smile of his own. You hated how Kaya was always apologizing for everyone around her, especially for those who didn’t deserve it.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Nami continued. “If she didn’t mean to say it she would’ve kept her mouth shut.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, guys,” Usopp offered.

You weren’t surprised to see him looking at Kaya. The two of them shared a small smile between them and it took everything in you not to lightly smack him on the arm. If Kaya wanted to be peacemaker, Usopp would do everything in his power to play along. Anything Kaya wanted Usopp would make sure he did everything in his power to make sure it happened.

What felt worse was that Sham’s attempt at an insult did bother you. It was meant to remind you that they considered you nothing, which was odd coming from waitstaff and a butler.

A doctor to pirates was about as valuable as gold.

“Yeah, not a big deal,” you mumbled. Your fingers riddled with your fork; debating if eating Buchi’s food was worth the risk. With your luck they probably poisoned it. “I do hope I make her proud someday, Luffy. I still have a lot to learn.”

Luffy was already a mouthful deep into his plate and wasn’t showing any reservation in taking another hardy bite. Thank god he waited to swallow first before he replied, “The fact you came here to help Kaya tells me all I need to know. You’re a good person, Doc.”

“That’s very kind of you, Luffy. Thank you.”

God, I will not cry right now.

Why did random words of kindness - from a stranger - matter so much? Luffy didn’t owe you any act of kindness or to bother being so nice to you or Usopp. Yet, here he was being an actual ball of sunshine. You knew dozens of people in this town who disregarded Usopp and his stories. Who grumbled and complained when he started talking. Luffy had only treated him with respect: he listened to his stories no matter how bat shit crazy they must have sounded.

You knew Luffy and his friends would eventually leave but for the time they were here (besides Zoro) you were grateful.

“It says a lot about who you are. You’re a good person.”

You felt your smile wilt a little as you watched a few flecks of food fall out of his mouth as he spoke. Flying food aside, you were really starting to count yourself lucky that Luffy and his friends ended up in your sleepy little village.

Sham was still depositing plates of tonight’s only special when you heard Kaya ask if she could try some. She’d barely finished asking before Klahadore was there beside her.

“I’m sorry that won’t be possible, Miss Kaya. You know how certain foods affect your constitution. Here,” he waved his hand free from his chest ushering in Buchi. “Buchi has prepared your special soup.”

“Why is it blue?” You blanched.

When all eyes turned to regard you, you realized you hadn’t said that in your head. The wine was seriously starting to make your body too comfortable.

“It’s made with a special fruit,” Buchi growled back.

“What’s the name of the fruit? I’ve skowered this entire island top to bottom with Naan and have never seen a fruit that color here.”

“It’s imported.”

“From where-“

“It’s not important where her food comes from,” Klahadore interrupted. Each word was more forced than the last. “All that matters is it helps Miss Kaya.”

“If that was true then why is she still sick?”

Klahadore’s eyes were practically shooting daggers into your skull. You were willing to bet a million berry’s that if he got you alone in a room, you wouldn’t be making it out. That thought only seemed to ignite something inside you that you’d been pushing down for months.

You rolled your tongue along your bottom teeth as you struggled to reign in your temper. The wine made your blood warm and fuzzy, but now you felt as if you were boiling alive. Your legs were bouncing uncontrollably underneath the table and your hands were curling into fists-

Suddenly a hiccup of a gasp lodged itself in your throat. The tip of a shoe was pressed gently against your ankle and the tip of said shoe belonged to the very moss-headed oaf who’d been plaguing your every waking minute. Yes, you said you weren’t going to look at him, but you didn’t expect him to touch you. Even just this small amount.

When you did glance at him, Zoro didn’t return your stare. His eyes were trained solely on Klahadore with a slight draw of his brow confirming your suspicions. Zoro was starting to notice something was off with Klahadore too and was warning you.

“Kaya it’s your birthday. You should be able to eat whatever you want.”

Nami’s soft voice cut through the tension and brought Klahadore back to the present. His eyes glazed back with mock servitude, but you’d seen it. Maybe now so had Zoro. Your eyes were only for Klahadore as you watched the exchange between him and Nami. You loved the way she was sticking up for Kaya and the challenge in her eyes as she stared him down-

“You need to relax.”

Fuck.

You struggled to keep a shudder from making its way down your spine but you weren’t so lucky in keeping the soft gasp from trickling out from your lips. The husk of his voice was unnecessarily sexy.

Slowly, you turned to look to your right and found Zoro casually sitting back in his seat. His eyes trained forward and his hands took his silverware as if he hadn’t just whispered across your skin like sin.

You couldn’t think past what had just happened. It didn’t matter how much you tried to formulate a sentence. Your brain was just not having it. You could do this. You were an intelligent woman who was not easily swayed.

“What?”

A masterful reply.

Zoro looked at you from his peripherals before placing the napkin down into his lap.

“I would stop antagonizing him before he kicks you out.”

And here you thought he was just worried about you.

“I’m a doctor and Kaya needs me.”

“Has she told you that? Has she physically looked at you and specifically asked for you to save her or do you just need to feel important?”

“Why are you such an asshole?!”

You spoke every word through gritted teeth. The anger that Zoro erased by killing your brain cells, which now felt like an insult to yourself, was stoked back to life. Your body singed with the need to get a hold of him because - who the fuck talked to people like this?

What you hadn’t expected was for that anger - god, that hurt - to soak deeply into your words. Each one raised and sharp with the intention he knew you meant it.

Zoro didn’t respond. He just started eating his fish. You suddenly didn’t feel hungry.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t want to look at Usopp. Not when he sounded like that. What would happen if you did? Would you cry or scream that you weren’t? The panic you’d been shoving down the last few hours was beginning to weasel its way to the surface. You were running out of options and ideas on how you could help. What if Zoro was right? What if Kaya didn’t need you and you’d allowed yourself to be dragged into a story that wasn’t real?

The thought alone was enough to make you look at your best friend and the panic was replaced with guilt. The shame was enough to make the first sharp prick of tears threaten to spill free from your eyes. Usopp didn’t deserve your anger or your doubt. He may have told a lot of stories, but he was good. His heart was pure. You weren’t worried about whether or not you smiled at him if he could tell you were lying. You knew somehow Usopp would understand your frustration.

“Yeah, Usopp everything is alright.”

He side-eyed Zoro over your shoulder before he brought his attention back to the room. Clearing his throat, he looked over at Luffy and asked, “Luffy, isn’t there something you wanted to talk to Kaya about?”

“Ah, yes. Usopp tells me that you own the whole shipyard.”

Kaya smiled gracefully in reply, before she looked away. A sadness creeping into her voice.

“Well, actually, my parents founded the shipyard, and Merry’s been running the business since…well since they passed.” You watched as Luffy followed her words and glanced over to the man sitting at the table. A courtesy raise of his glass to salute the dead. For a split second, all the joy in Luffy was replaced by something that didn’t seem to fit. A melancholy that didn’t belong. “But all that’s about to change. At midnight tonight I will become sole owner.”

“Ah well, that’s great because we want to buy a ship from you.”

Now this was the Luffy you’d grown to know. All smiles and cheerfulness like a rainbow as he lifted his champagne glass and took a sip.

“I see,” Kaya responded in kind. “Usopp mentioned that you were sailors.”

“Nope, not sailors. Pirates.”

Your head spun sharply back in his direction. He seemed so happy about what he just said. Like it wasn’t the worst kind of omission that could get you all killed or arrested by the local Marines. Usopp definitely had a reason to be choking on his own drink.

You glanced at Nami and back at Zoro and both of them, respectfully, looked worried as shit.

“Pirates?”

“Yep. We haven’t sailed together for very long, but we have already defeated an evil clown, raided a marine base, and taken down a Marine captain with an axe for a hand!”

“Usopp, what is he talking about?” You whispered sharply over to him.

Usopp was still covered in his own spit as he furiously tried to wipe it off. The worry evident in the fine creases in his forehead as he glanced around the room.

“I don’t-“

“These sound a lot like your adventures, Usopp,” Kaya mentioned lovingly.

“Yeah. It’s crazy.”

Kaya thought that Luffy was joking! While you were sure Luffy meant what he was saying you were also incredibly confused. Pirates weren’t nice. The ones you’d met a few times had forced Naan to help them. They’d been rough, mean, and downright nasty. Luffy was none of that.

“Oh yeah, and we are just getting started!” Unexpectedly, Luffy stood up in his chair and began to stand on the table.

“What are you doing?” Klahadore snapped as he came forth from the shadows. “Get down from there this instant!”

“Being a pirate has been my dream for as long as I can remember and I’m finally going to make it a reality. We are heading off to the grand line where even more adventures await us.” With an eager smile gracing his lips, drink in hand, Luffy began to walk his way down to where Kaya sat. “At the end of the journey I’m gonna find the ultimate treasure, the One Piece and become King of The Pirates.”

When he got to Kaya Luffy stopped and took one last sip of his drink before handing it off to Klahadore. You would honestly pay to have this moment replay in a time loop, it was so damn good. Besides the fact that, you know, they were pirates.

“Kaya, you have a beautiful ship out there. A caravel with a sheep figurehead. It spoke to me. That is the ship we need to follow our dreams. I promise we will take care of it. Maintain it. Because a ship isn’t just a vessel; it’s also a home.”

It felt like such a genuine moment. Luffy didn’t appear to be like every pirate you’ve ever met. They were usually selfish, ugly, and cruel men who found pleasure in others misfortunes or creating them themselves. Even now, after his confession, it wasn’t the vibe you got from Luffy, and that’s what made it all the more confusing.

“That will be quite enough!” Your body gave a jump in surprise as Klahadore screamed. His body thundering over to stand next to Kaya. “I should’ve known Usopp would bring rift raft to our doorstep.”

“Klahadore it’s okay-“

Kaya tried to defend them, but a violent coughing fit cut her short. Usopp edged toward the end of his seat noticeably wanting to get up and go to her. The both of you knew if he made any moves right now, unfortunately, who knew what this butler would do.

“Now look at what you’ve done. You’ve all upset Miss Kaya. I want you all out of here, at once!”

“No,” Kaya interjected. “Let them stay the night.”

“Very well, Miss Kaya. But they are out of here first thing in the morning.”

Stay the night?

“Fuck,” you huffed under your breathe.

You had no intention of staying in this manor with any of them. You turned to tell Usopp you should both head back and noticed the way his puppy dog eyes followed Kaya as Klahadore led her away. He wasn’t going to leave her and maybe that meant you shouldn’t either.

“Well, that went well.”

Luffy really needed to learn to read the room.

You waited for Buchi and Sham to follow after their master before you pushed back your chair and did your best not to trip on any of the tulle at your feet. You needed to get out of this dress immediately. It wasn’t because you were much of a fighter. No, that wasn’t you. However, you did enjoy running from danger and this dress made it damn near impossible.

“Where are you going?”

Luffy and his kaleidoscope of happiness. You wondered what it was like to always be so optimistic.

“I am going back to my room and probably leaving.”

“What?” Usopp turned to look at you. “Why are you leaving.”

“Yeah. What was all that holier than thou talk about helping her,” Zoro cut in.

“Oh, what the hell does it matter to you, anyways?” You snapped. “First, you insult me for trying to help and now you insult me, again, for leaving.”

“Cowards give up when it gets hard.”

Was it physically possible to blow smoke out of your nose? It felt like it as your eyes narrowed in on him. He didn’t even have the decency to look at you.

“Zoro, you got a real stick up your ass,” Nami huffed as she grabbed her glass and took a drink.

“That’s not the real reason she wants to leave” he shot back, eyes on Nami. “Is it? It’s because she heard the word, “Pirates.”

“That’s crazy,” Luffy laughed around the words. “We’re good guys.”

“Pirates are not good guys,” you snapped at him. It was your turn to feel like an asshole as you looked between them. Luffy noticeably hurt. “I have met plenty of pirates when they came looking for Naan and her services. She hid me every single time, because she was scared of what they might do. If they would take me. Doctors are more valuable to pirates than gold. That was the lesson she taught me and I learned it well.”

“Pirates have been to Syrup Village?”

Usopp didn’t seem to grasp the fact that they hadn’t come raiding and he’d have to ring the bell for real. No one knew how close pirates really were to Syrup Village. It was one of the reasons why Naan’s home was hidden so deep within the bamboo forest.

“Yes, Usopp.”

You needed to get away. You were tired - drained - from feeling like you needed to apologize to them. You didn’t know what's real anymore and maybe you were being a coward. Maybe you were just tired of being wrong.

With one last tug on the tulle, you moved away from the table and gave them one quick glance before you headed out towards the dining room doors.

————————————-

It’d been over an hour since you’d made your less than graceful exit from the dining room. Even after getting back into the comfort of your own clothes, it didn’t keep the nagging feeling that you’d been an asshole from clawing its way to the surface.

You had been an asshole.

You’d been pacing the confines of your suite chewing on your nails until you were positive you must have gnawed them into dust. There was no denying Kaya’s home was beautiful. It was everything you could imagine money could buy in the form of creature comforts, but there was no happiness within its walls.

The room you’d been given was more than what you and Naan lived in now. When you’d first been shown inside, you’d felt silly having all this space and having no idea what to do with it. It was all lovely. From the four poster bed with intricate wooden detailing to the velvet curtains that ran the length of the wall that held a window overlooking the garden. The wallpaper, you were positive, held gold within its designs.

It wasn’t the fanciest, but you would take your small home with Naan then stay in a place like this. Speaking of home…

It would be so easy for you to turn tail and run. To go out the front door and never come back but what would you tell Naan? That you never got to see Kaya? That you were unnecessarily rude to a group of people who’d been nothing but friendly (except one) all because their captain called them pirates?

Coward. That’s what Zoro called you. The worst part was maybe he wasn’t wrong. So, ninety-five percent of your plan had gone to shit. You at least still had five percent of it.

Neither Luffy, Nami, or Zoro did anything that warranted your hasty judgment, and nothing they did reflected what you’d been exposed to all your life. What you hated the most was that you could feel the need for an apology brewing in your gut, and if you didn’t do it you would never get any sleep.

After you’d gotten dressed and strapped on much more comfortable shoes, you made your way out of your room and back inside the maze of hallways. You were closing in on the main corridor when the sound of a door opening made you stop in your tracks.

What if it was Sham? You prepared yourself to see her unpleasant face when orange hair wrapped in an orange designed bandanna crept out into the hall.

“Nami?”

She startled as you called her name and turned to face you. The sound of clanking caught your attention and your eyes followed the sound to a very filled pillowcase in her right hand.

You quirked an eyebrow as you asked, “Doing some spring cleaning?”

You watched as her usual friendly demeanor changed into squared shoulders and eyes filled with defiance. It made you feel like you were about to embark on a fight you didn’t realize you were having.

“You want to hurl some more generic insults my way? Tell me how much of a bad person I am-“

Now you were raising your hands up but not in surrender. It was an attempt to quiet her down. You’d already been berating yourself about words, and the power they held to equally heal or destroy someone. How many times had Naan chastised you about being reckless with your words? Reminding you that the things spoken can be enough to heal or mend hearts and bodies, but can also easily break them.

“A healer is more than just someone mending a body, girl. Sometimes we heal by listening. Giving dying men the forgiveness they seek.”

And here you were slinging verbal canon balls at these people.

I’m such an asshole

“Nami! Nami! While I hundred percent deserve that, it’s not what I was going to do.” She didn’t seem like she believed you in the slightest. That was fair. “I was actually on my way to try and find you guys.”

“Why? So, you could tell us some more about how you hate pirates?”

“Okay. That’s fair.”

“Oh, I think that’s more than fair. You are not the only one who hates pirates or holds the lottery for the shittest interactions with them.”

Again, your hands were up. Why did this have to feel like you were with a lion inside of a cage? One wrong move and you were sure she was going to bite your head off.

“I never said that, ok? Did I have a shit reaction to finding out that you were pirates? Yes. That’s why I’m here. I came to apologize to all of you. You defended me tonight at dinner. You didn’t have to do that.”

All the anger that swirled in the gray of her irises began to soften. Good. At least she was no longer looking ready to turn you into literal sashimi.

“Yeah, we’ll, she was acting like a real bitch.”

“Agreed,” you hummed, “but that’s beside the point. You didn’t have to say anything but you did and how did I repay that? By being an asshole so on that note: Nami, I’m sorry.”

Why was she just staring? You thought your heart was going to explode out of your chest at any minute. Nami wasn’t smiling or appeared angry or upset. She was completely stone faced and you were desperately trying not to fidget.

“I think that’s the first time anyone’s apologized to me before.”

“That sucks.”

God, you really did have a way with words. Nami was equally as shocked at your bluntness, but in a way that sent a warm smile to lift the edges of your lips. Nami sputtered out a laugh as she placed her hands on her hips. The motion and sound of clinking whatever was in there reminding you both that she was currently doing something illegal.

“Are you going to say anything? Report me to Klahadore?”

Even just the sound of his name was enough to drop the smile from your face. A sneer replacing it as you replied, “God no. I’d rather just let you steal than say anything to that jackal.”

“You and the waitstaff seem to be big fans of each other,” Nami teased.

It earned her a laugh as you looked down the hallway. Just to be safe since you were both equally unwanted in the manor and, well, Nami had a pillowcase full of the house goodies.

“I suppose you could say that.”

You stuck your hand between you both and waited patiently for her to take it. Nami regarded your hand like it belonged to a sea monster.

“Friends?”

“I don’t have any friends.”

Her words were soft and direct. As if she’d come to terms with being alone for a while now. You didn’t pull your hand away and let it fall back to your side. You kept it suspended between the two of you, and patiently waited for her to feel comfortable enough to take it.

“Well, at least now you’ll know you have one in Syrup village.”

A spark of something ignited in her eyes and whatever it was your words made her think of, it wasn’t something happy. When a small smile curled her lips it didn’t reach her eyes. They stayed distant; mourning something you may never be made aware of.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as Nami reached out her hand and gently grabbed yours. You waited to secure your fingers around her hand, just in case she had second thoughts. When she didn’t pull away you allowed yourself to fully smile at her, which earned you one back.

“Where were you headed to, anyways?”

You both released each other, and you started slowly moving around her to get to the corridor.

“I was going to look around for Luffy. I need to apologize to him too.”

“Check the kitchen. If you’re going to find him anywhere it’s going to be in there.”

“Thank you. You just saved me some time. See you later, Nami.”

You were a few feet away when she called your name. You turned halfway to see her still standing in the same spot you’d left her.

“Are you going to apologize to Zoro?”

“I’m still debating,” you answered truthfully.

You aren’t sure what Nami expected you to say, but apparently that hadn’t been it. She immediately erupted into laughter as she turned and headed to the next room.

You really hoped she wasn’t going to get caught by Klahadore or anyone else. You were positive it would get him all riled up and send him screeching for the marines to come. Maybe even throw in some insults, because that was just the kind of man he was.

It took you longer than you wanted to locate the kitchen and you were considering bringing it up to Kaya about putting signs up around the manor. Ones that let you know with arrows which way to go. Why was it so easy to get lost in such a big house? You were still trying to come up with a way to bring up that little suggestion when you heard Usopp’s voice coming from the kitchen. Usopp was there too? Your curiosity spurred you forward - almost at a sprint - until you heard another voice grumble from the kitchen.

“You don’t think she like - like likes me, do you?”

What kind of conversation were you walking into? You rounded the corner to find Usopp and Zoro staring at one another. Usopp looked hopeful while Zoro regarded him with as much emotion as a rock.

“You’re asking the wrong guy.”

“I would second that, Usopp.”

At the sound of your voice all eyes turned to you.

“Doc! Hey! What brings you to the kitchen?”

Luffy sounded like his usual happy-go-lucky self. He didn’t seem to be holding a grudge or feelings about what had happened only an hour ago between you. All Luffy seemed to care about was the leftover appetizers and being amongst friends.

How could you ever think he was anything like other pirates?

His cheerfulness was contagious and soon you found yourself making your way around to the stairs. Luffy waves you down to join him with an appetizer in hand.

“You didn’t seem to eat at the dinner. You should try some of these. They’re delicious!”

“Are you sure there is any left?”

“Oh, I have some in my pockets if you want those.”

He really was digging through his pocket to pull out some appetizers. You didn’t know why it surprised you so much but you couldn’t keep your laughter from bubbling to the surface.

“It’s okay, Luffy. I appreciate your willingness to share, but I’ll pass for now.”

“You sure? These are really good!”

Just to prove his point, Luffy popped whatever he pulled from his pocket into his mouth. His fingers noticeably tinted with a pink hue from it melting.

“Pretty sure.”

You snagged a stool on the opposite side of Luffy, which unfortunately kept you on the same side as Zoro. Who was actively staring daggers into your skull.

“I actually came to find you so I could apologize.”

“Apologize?”

“For how I acted at dinner.”

“Where’s my apology?”

Zoro’s husky voice cut through your good mood and instantly made you bitter. You turned in your seat to look at him, who was opening and closing drawers every two seconds.

“I’m still debating on if you deserve one.”

Zoro had been opening his next set of cupboard doors when he stopped short. His head tilting the slightest to glance at you over your shoulder. You waited for him to make another smart ass comment and when it didn’t come, well, color you surprised. All you got was a tick of his jaw before he turned back to opening and shutting doors.

“What is he doing?” You asked Usopp.

“He’s looking for something to drink,” Luffy offered up in between his next bite.

Where the hell did he find a chicken leg? You fixed yourself to sit more comfortably on the stool and placed your satchel on the table. You looked between the three men again and remembered what it was they’d been talking about before.

“So, what were you guys talking about?”

Usopp scratched the back of his neck and looked anywhere but at you. What was making him so nervous? You’d been friends since you were kids. There literally couldn’t be anything that embarrassing-

“Usopp is in love with Kaya and wanted to know if we think she’s in love with him too.”

Luffy happily continued to eat the chicken that you still couldn’t figure out where it came from. Usopp, on the other hand, looked like his soul was about to leave his body.

“Sounds about right.”

Your response must have been a shock to Usopp because that’s exactly how he looked. His hand was still nervously fidgeting with his bandana.

“You know?”

You rolled your eyes as you looked around the kitchen island. Maybe you were starting to feel a little bit hungry.

“Usopp, even Naan knows how you feel about Kaya. She called it like two years ago.”

You were still looking for something to eat when Luffy slid a plate with chicken thighs and legs between you. They smelled wonderful and the skin was perfectly crisp. It was garnished with what might have been green onion or chive.

“If you guys are going to talk about feelings I’m seriously going to need a drink.”

“Shocker.”

The few steps Zoro took came to an abrupt end just a few feet from you. You had a piece of chicken thigh between your lips as you made eye contact with his award-winning brooding face. There was a millisecond, as you both looked at each other, that you wondered if he would’ve replied.

“There’s a wine cellar down in the basement.”

“Why didn’t you mention that before?”

Usopp opened and closed his mouth. While he was unsure of what to say, you felt like you had plenty. Usopp didn’t waste another second as he grabbed his satchel off the island and started leading Zoro up the stairs.

“Luffy, you coming?”

“No, you go ahead. I’m going to sit with Doc for a while.”

They were walking on the opposite walkway, high up enough to look down at both of you. Zoro glanced over his shoulder at the both of you and it took every last ounce of control on your body not to stick your tongue out at him.

How odd it was that you felt like you could actually breathe now that he was gone. Sure, you knew you should say sorry to him and, realistically, him calling you a coward was part of the reason you’d stayed. Did you ever want to share that information with him? Hell no.

The man was already insufferable enough. You didn’t need to add to it.

The sound of Luffy’s chair scraping against the floor brought you back to where your attention was needed: Luffy. Not Zoro’s retreating back.

Why did he have to look good from both sides?

Shaking your head to bring you back to why you came there in the first place, you watched as Luffy went back to walking around the kitchen. He kept searching until he came across a bronze pot that was left on the stove. When he lifted the lid you could see the neon blue hue of Kaya’s soup from where you sat.

“What are you doing?”

Luffy turned with the large pot in hand and walked back over to the table. He looked like a child who’d gotten lost in a chocolate factory.

“Eating.”

You felt your brows enter your hairline and possibly the ceiling as you watched Luffy bring the pot to his lips, and begin to gulp the contents down.

“Are you seriously going to eat all of that?”

He took a few rather large gulps before he set the pot down to look at you. A blue mustache formed on his upper lip.

“Soup isn’t my usual choice, but it’s not half bad.”

You tried to shake the smile off your face but failed miserably.

“You know, you don’t need to apologize. I understand being protective of the people you care about.”

The change in topics was giving you mental whiplash. Luffy regarded you with a softness you hadn’t expected. Underneath was that playfulness you’d grown accustomed to, but it was submerged under something serious. Or as serious as Luffy could be. It was the softness you hadn’t expected, however, and you quickly looked down at your hands.

“Naan raised me to admit when I’m wrong, and I was wrong, Luffy.”

“You talk about your Naan a lot.”

“I have a lot of respect for her. She didn’t have to take me in, teach me what she knows, but she did. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to repay her.”

Luffy regarded you coolly as he picked up the pot and took another giant gulp. His mouth was getting bluer by the minute.

“I’m sure she appreciates you helping her, but I don’t think she’d want to keep you from your dream.”

“I don’t have a dream.”

“Everybody has a dream. Mine is to be King of the pirates. Now you say yours.”

Luffy was right. Everyone has a dream. Just not all of them were attainable. There were realistic dreams and unrealistic ones and yours had to be classified under the latter. Luffy’s too.

But who was to say dreams weren’t attainable if you weren’t willing to strive for them?

You inhaled sharply, your words exhaling in rush.

“I want to be one of the world’s greatest doctors. I want to help people. Not just humans, but fishmen and people who have eaten Devil fruits. Their physiology is so changed that no one knows what happens when they get certain wounds.”

“That’s great because I ate the gum gum fruit.”

How could anyone just casually chug an entire pot of soup? Or openly share that kind of information.

“I’m sorry, what was that? Did you just say you ate a Devil fruit?”

“Yup. It turned my body into rubber.”

“I have so many questions.”

“It’s a long story.”

His words came out slurred; as if they sat heavy on his tongue and made it impossible to speak. You watched as he blinked slowly to try and clear his vision and when that didn’t work he went to stand and immediately stumbled backwards.

“Luffy!”

Your body immediately launched itself over the table. You didn’t care that your clothes were covered in a rainbow assortment of food. By the time you’d already made it to his side of the table, Luffy fell back against a cabinet. His body sliding limp to the floor.

“Luffy! What's wrong? Can you tell me what you’re feeling?”

He was obviously lethargic. His pupils blown wide and unable to focus. It sounded like he was trying to answer your previous question, but his tongue had swollen up making none of it audible. You barely reached him before he completely crumbled to the floor. Your hands dove underneath his arms until you pulled him into a bear hug.

Luffy was too damn heavy. If you kept holding him you would end up in a heap together on the floor. With as much strength as you could muster you tried to hoist him onto the table.

“Zoro! Usopp!”

As you pulled him up onto the table, you heard countless silverware and plates crashing to the floor. There was so much commotion surely someone would have to come investigate. You didn’t have time to wait to see if anyone did. After you had him laid out as good as you were going to get him, you rushed over to his head. You pulled up his eyelid and watched as his eye rolled up inside his head.

“Damn it! Zoro! Usopp! Where the fuck are you guys!”

The panic in your voice was tittering on hysteria. You wanted to scream. You definitely were going to start crying if your brain didn’t get it together. Luffy needed you.

You placed two fingers on the artery in his neck. His pulse fluttered against your fingertips and with each beat felt slower than the last. Drawing your hands back you noticed the slight foam that was forming at the corners of his mouth and - “Poison.”

Your eyes zoned in on the now empty pot. Luffy had eaten all of it and whatever was inside was enough to make its effects be instantaneous. It was the same soup they’d given to Kaya. The same color as her tea.

“Son of a bitch!”

They’d been poisoning her this whole time. The only reason she didn’t drop dead in front of them was because she’d never even taken a bite. Every time Usopp told you stories about Klahadore, Buchi, and Sham it always felt off. None of it ever added up and now, now you know why.

Those bastards had been trying to kill her this whole time.

A soft groan huffed from Luffy bringing you back to the very important present. Why hadn’t anyone answered you? It didn’t matter. You needed to help Luffy - Kaya - before it was too late.

“Luffy, I have to go back to Naan’s. I can’t carry you out of here or we won’t make it. I promise I’ll be back. I’m going to save you. I’m going to save Kaya.”

With one last look at Luffy, you tightened the strap on your satchel and bolted for the nearest exit.

——————————

Your lungs were screaming with every breath you took and your muscles burning, threatening to collapse, as you pushed forward. You couldn’t afford to stop running. Not since you left the front door of Kaya’s house. The last time you saw Luffy glued itself to your retinas and refused to let go. A constant reminder that no matter how much your body wanted to give up, you couldn’t let it.

Luffy and Kaya were counting on you.

By the time you passed through the town and started up the hill behind the tree line to Naan’s you were running on fumes. It was probably the reason why you not so gracefully barreled through the front door. Your legs wobble to a shaky halt as you attempt to walk them over to the cupboard that held every tonic known to man.

“Naan! Naan, I need help, please!”

Your voice cracked and melted into the old boards of the house. You were still struggling to catch a breath as you opened the doors to the cupboard. Everything about you felt unstable. Your hands shook as they moved around the bottles, almost toppling them over and threatening to make a bigger mess of your night.

“What in the hell is going on down here?”

Naan’s voice crocked with sleep but her words were full of fire. She was pissed you woke her up, but it was all for a damn good reason. The dim light from her candle grew brighter as she advanced down the stairs.

“Naan, I’m down here. Please, I need your help.”

You rushed to the stars to wait to help her down the rest of the way. The minute she grabbed your hands to help her down, you moved to take her toward the cabinet but she held on tight. She wasn’t budging until you looked at her. She called your name repeatedly to get you to look at her. Why wouldn’t you look at her?

The overwhelming feeling of failure was crashing in on you. You’d known. You knew, in the pit of your stomach, that something wasn’t right with them. You should have fought harder. You could’ve done more and now, now Luffy was dying of a poison Kaya ingested for years and Nami, Usopp, and even Zoro were in danger.

A sob tore its way out from your throat, through your lips, and ended in a guttural scream.

“What in the hell is happening, child?”

“Naan,” you sobbed. “Naan, Luffy has been poisoned-“

“Poisoned?”

“With the same stuff they’ve been giving Kaya for years. Kaya has slowly been poisoned and she’s going to die. We need to help her. I need to help them Naan, please.”

You weren’t sure when it happened. When you were no longer supporting Naan but she was supporting you. Her paper thin hands held your face gently as her thumbs smoothed your tears down. She made you follow her breathing until your breaths were even and slow. Only then did she begin to talk to you.

“Do you know what kind he ingested?”

Fuck.

“No, I-“

Naan held her hand up to stop you. With one hand still supporting her weight on your arm, she came off the last step and moved towards the cabinet you’d massacred. You knew Naan had noticed it too when a displeased click of her tongue filled the silence in the room.

“If you don’t know what it is, it could be tricky. I can give you what I have, but you are going to need to examine them both before you give them anything. Give them the wrong one, and it will kill them as quickly as the poison will.”

Naan calmly went through each bottle. She knew by heart where everything would be. Just like she could blindly feel through ingredients or measure it without actually measuring it. She turned around with five bottles clutched in her hands and shuffled her way back over to you. She motioned for you to open your satchel and placed them one-by-one carefully inside.

“I don’t know if you should be doing this.”

For the first time, you heard the waiver in her voice. She watched as you secure your satchel closed; her eyes trained to the worn leather before she looked back at you. You weren’t expecting her to look so scared. It was your turn to place your hands on her shoulders and give them a soft squeeze.

“You’ve always taught me there is no greater service in life than to serve others. I can’t let them die, Naan.”

“I know,” she smiled sadly. The worry made the wrinkles more severe than before. “It’s just…be careful. Please.”

With another squeeze you did your best to smile at her, to reassure her, before you stepped back.

“I’ll be back, Naan. Don’t you worry.”

You didn’t know that for sure. There was a chance Klahadore or Buchi would spot you before you made it back to Luffy. Who knew what they were doing to everyone while you were here.

With that uncertainty of what could happen stewing in your chest, you leaned forward quickly and planted a kiss on Naan’s cheek before you bolted out the door. This time, your body was prepared for the brutal run back to the manor. You were almost to the edge of town when the bell rang out in warning and moments later the sound of Usopp’s, “The pirates are here!” Ringing out.

At the sound of his voice, you allowed yourself a moment to thank the universe that he was okay. You wanted to stop and turn back to the village. To find Usopp and ask him just to come back with you and the two of you would figure it out together.

Luffy didn’t have that kind of time.

With that truth taking over your thought, you began to pick up the pace. You had a captain to save.

—————————-

The front of the manor was beginning to be covered in the fog that was rolling in from the ocean. This was hands down the creepiest you had ever seen the Manor. It was giving definite horror vibes. The worst part? Even from this far you could see the damn pirate shutters were enabled.

“Fuck!” You screamed.

How in the hell were you going to get inside to help them? Those things were heavy and meant to be impenetrable. There was no way you were going to be able to break it down with a few kicks.

“Think,” you huffed, as your hand slid across your face.

What options did you have? You could go back to find Usopp, but there was a high chance you’d only end up missing each other in passing. You couldn’t just go up to the front door and knock. Not unless, you know, you wanted to die.

You were pacing back and forth when a very loud grunt echoed from the well.

You hadn’t read many horror novels, but the ones you had read, well, this was giving haunted zombie island vibes. You wish you could claim to be unafraid, but when the grunt came again, this time closer and louder than the last, you knew you’d be lying.

So, why were you ever so slowly edging your way towards the well? Curiosity did always kill the cat. Right when you finally got to the edge of the stone, you exhaled to prepare yourself to look over.

Who knows, maybe it was just your imagination overreacting. Right when you went to glance over the side, a hand smacked its way over the top and you felt your soul evacuate your body. A few seconds later, green hair popped over the top that sat on top of a familiar face, but your brain was stuck in fear mode, so when Zoro asked, “Doc?” The only response he’d gotten was your fist connecting with his face.

“What the fuck!”

His scream echoed into the well. You could hear him slipping and knew it was because you’d shoved your knuckles into his cheekbone. Just as he was about to slip, you launched yourself over the side to grab a hold of his arm.

“What the fuck!” Zoro shouted up at you.

“I’m sorry, okay! I thought you were a zombie and oh my god is that a fucking body?!”

You almost let Zoro go as your eyes focused on what looked like very real feet attached to very real legs.

“Yeah. It’s that Merry, guy.”

Zoro grunted as he tried to find purchase for the foot that had slipped. You were struggling to hold him up and each time his foot slipped it seemed to tug you down with him.

“For fuck’s sake, what are you made of bricks?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is my weight inconveniencing you? If it wasn’t for you I would be out already,” Zoro growled out each word.

“I said I was sorry, okay! What more do you want?”

You move your hand further down until you reach his elbow. At first, it seemed like a solid plan. Strategically, it was a better option to give you more leverage in helping pull him up. The reality of it was Zoro was sweaty - very sweaty - from climbing about twenty-feet up the inside of a well. The minute your hand clamped down on the lubricated skin, it slipped free.

When he started to come loose from your hands you expected him to scream. All you saw was a grimace as his back slammed into the wall of the well and a glare that could give death a run for his money.

“Just pull me up already and stop screwing around.”

“I am trying but you are a hefty, hefty man,” you stated with each word strained.

Okay. You needed to get serious. You’d allowed his weight to lift your feet off the ground. You swung them back until you could get your toes pressed against the River rock of the well. Your heels were still slightly lifted in the air, but you knew this could work in your favor. You took in a deep breath and began to lean back as hard as you could. It may not have been super comfortable, but it was pulling him up enough that you could hear his boot finally find the footing it needed.

“Okay, you can let go now. I said you can let go-!”

You fully intended to let go. Whatever Zoro had done to help launch himself out, mixed with your pulling, sent you falling backwards.

With Zoro landing directly on top of you.

His weight mixed in with the fall knocked your breath clean out of your lungs. You were trying to get your lungs to expand by letting your body relax so you attempted to think of soothing things. The night sky and her stars were looking incredible tonight. It was the clearest you’d seen them in a while. Too bad it was on a night like tonight.

Zoro slowly lifted his head up from your shoulder, his arms on either side of you, until you were both face-to-face. Suddenly, it felt like the air was knocked out of you all over again.

His skin still held a sheen from his previous excretion of climbing. The edges of his hair was damp with sweat giving him a look that reminded you of when you’d run into him earlier wet from his shower. It shouldn’t have made him look this damn good.

You were painfully aware that he was still between your legs. Zoro was close enough you could feel his stomach extend with each heavy breath he took. Could easily count the freckles that endless days in the sun had kissed on his skin. His lips were parted, eyes scanning your face, and for one devious miscalculation of judgment, you wanted to fist your fingers in his shirt and pull him towards you to see if his lips were as soft as you imagined.

Nope. Nooooope!

That moment was enough to bring you crashing back to reality. Plus, Luffy. Kaya.

You smack his chest for good measure. Just to let him know you meant it when you said, “Are you trying to crush me to death? Get off me!”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” he grunted.

Once he was up, you expected him to stick his hand out to help you up. Instead, he was already walking in the opposite direction of what appeared to be away from the house.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

You scrambled up from your spot and hurried to try and catch up with him. Your hands rearranging your satchel to make sure your bottles weren’t crushed.

“I’m going back to the house.”

“Yeah, so am I but the house is back this way.”

Zoro stopped for a split second to look behind you before deciding what you offered was wrong.

“How about we split up and figure out who was right?”

“Fat chance, Mosshead.”

You fell into step beside him and you were positive if Zoro could’ve, he would’ve thrown you down the well. Just to make sure you stayed away from him. If this was a different time, one where you didn’t just pull him from a well where a dead body was, Luffy wasn’t poisoned, and Kaya and Nami were in danger you would have steered clear of him. So, unlucky for you both, you were newfound partners in unfortunate crime.

Neither of you spoke a word as you continued to walk down the path. You were pretty sure that Zoro was sending you the wrong way. You were two seconds away from telling him he was most definitely wrong, and you’d been most definitely right, until you both observed something up ahead.

Was that marines? And were they carrying- “Luffy,” you said in a hush tone.

Zoro saw it too. Two marines were carrying his limp body between them until he launched himself forward and began vomiting in the trees. It shouldn’t be possible. Poison when ingested - by anyone - was fatal. Even with as much vomiting he was doing it shouldn’t be possible. And yet, you saw it happening.

It has to be the Devil fruit…

Zoro waved for you to hide inside the bamboo but you brushed him off. As quietly as you could, you reached down and grabbed a fallen bamboo branch. You made sure you had a good grip on the bottom as you made your way quietly forward.

They were arguing between themselves. One of them with an extremely terrible haircut was holding a gun to the other with glasses and back to Luffy. The two spare marines were just standing watching and-

With as much force as you could muster, you smacked the one on the left on the side of his head. Zoro just used his fist for the other one. At the sound of their bodies falling, bad haircut turned around and when he saw Zoro walking towards him he turned sheet white.

“Zoro!” Luffy called happily as he got to his feet. “And Doc?”

You scratched the back of your head as you watched Zoro knock out bad haircut in one punch.

“Yeah. I came back to rescue you. Surprise,” you joked, throwing your hands up in mock celebration.

“Thanks. Come on. We need to get back to the house.”

Without another word, Luffy pressed between you and started making his way back towards the house. You side-eyed Zoro to see if he was paying attention, because Luffy had just proven you were right. You opened your mouth to tease him when a soft shout of Luffy’s name sent you all turning to see who it was.

They stood in front of you - pale as moonlight - and a little frightened with black rimmed circle glasses and pink hued hair. You weren’t sure who they were but all you needed to know was that they knew Luffy by name.

“Koby, I know you got a job to do. But I’m going to go back and help my friends. Don’t try and stop me.”

Yup. Luffy was officially the most polite pirate you’d ever met.

Koby gave Luffy the smallest of nods. A silent affirmation that he wouldn’t be following suit. You had so many questions about what happened between everyone tonight and would make sure to ask later. If given the chance.

Adjusting his hat back on his head, Luffy turned and started sprinting down the path. Zoro gave you one last look before he ran after him with his hands securely holding onto his swords. A soft groan left you as your feet padded along like the little engine that could.

“Ugh, why are we doing more running? I hate running.”

No one answered you and that was fine. You were going to need as much air as you could trying to keep up with the two of them.

——————————-

Zoro and Luffy were at the door when you came up. The two of them looked at the giant metal shudder. You were ready to tell them there wasn’t going to be any other way inside the house when Zoro bent down on one knee and worked his fingers underneath.

“That’s not going to work.”

Luffy turned to you with a wide smile.

“You don’t know Zoro.”

As if on queue, Zoro let out a grunt and began to push the shudder up. No way. It shouldn’t have been possible for him to even remotely lift it an inch. Usopp told you hundreds of times that pirate shudders were over six-hundred pounds of metal. They were meant to withstand canon balls and here Zoro was lifting it to his waist.

Luffy grabbed a statue and placed it underneath the shudder allowing Zoro to let go, and kick the double doors open. Luffy wasted no time in bending down and looking inside to make sure they could enter without interruption. When he was sure it was clear, he moved inside and Zoro shortly followed. Luffy went to shut the doors when you quickly moved inside.

“Doc, I think you should wait outside.”

“Fuck that,” you seethed. “These are my friends too, Luffy. I’m not leaving until I know they’re safe.”

Why was he smiling?

“Alright, but we split up. Cover more ground that way.”

Neither of them wasted any time taking off in their respective directions. It wasn’t until they were gone that you realized you didn’t have a clue where to go and what were you supposed to do if you found them.

You let out a huff of air that ended in a raspberry as you decided to go down the opposite side of the corridor than Zoro. You may not have any abilities from eating Devil fruit or be insanely good with swords, but you did have your wits. Yeah. That’s what was going to save you. Wits.

Maybe you could just go back to the kitchen and see if the pot was still there. If it was, you’d have a chance to get samples of what Buchi had laced inside the soup. In Kaya’s tea. God, just thinking about it pissed you off all over again.

If the house felt eerily quiet before, it felt even worse now. All signs of life were completely drained from the halls to the point your own breathing felt too loud in the large space. You were tempted to make noise, to call out for Zoro like playing a game of Marco Polo. Probably wouldn’t have been one of your best ideas in a house full of homicidal waitstaff.

When you got to the kitchen you made a quick note that the bronze pot in question was missing. Of course they wouldn’t have kept it. It was evidence of a plot they’d spent three years perfecting, but you just needed to search to be sure.

Quickly, you made your way around to the stairs and into the step down of the kitchen. Someone had done the dishes. It was all gone. You tried not to allow the bitterness of that thought to settle, but damn if it wasn’t hard. How were you going to be able to know what treatment to start giving Kaya if you didn’t have anything to base it off?

You looked around the kitchen one last time when the sounds of fighting erupted somewhere in the distance. It could be Luffy or Zoro. Hell, it could be one of the other three too. Either way, it didn’t matter who it was. You were going to help them.

First things first…

You looked quickly around the kitchen. There wasn’t much in the way of weapons that were going to strike fear in the hearts of anyone. You saw a tiny pot that was sitting on the sink counter and rushed forward to grab it by the handle. As soon as you knew you had it, you bolted back up the stairs and towards the main lobby.

The closer you got the more intense the fighting became. Swords. Those definitely sounded like swords, which meant it was Zoro fighting, but also someone else with swords. And here you were bringing a pot to a sword fight.

You weren’t given a chance to backtrack on your choice of weapon. The minute you came out from the French double doors that lead back into the foray of the house, you watched as Zoro fought off Buchi and Sham.

You never saw a real swordsman or met one for that matter. It wasn’t like Syrup village was brimming with up and coming anything, really, but as you watched Zoro effortlessly move between blocking and attacking you were willing to bet no one compared to him.

You were so caught up in gawking that you weren’t aware that Buchi and Sham were made aware of your presence until they hissed at you. Hissing? Really? You could feel a smart ass comment brewing, but now didn’t seem like the appropriate time to say it. Buchi was who turned on you first with Sham still attacking Zoro. She had her back to you, and when she came up from a missed swing you rushed forward and launched the small pot at the back of her head.

The sound of it connecting with its intended target resonated through the room. Sham’s head was as hollow as you thought.

Everything slowed down for a second as you all waited to see what would happen. Luckily for you, the result was Sham falling face first into the hardwood completely passed out.

“Holy shit. It worked! Zoro, did you see that!”

“You little bitch!”

How the hell did you forget about Buchi? He came stomping towards you causing the floor to shake as he did. You were getting ready to bolt in the opposite direction when Zoro jumped in the way. You took that as your queue to move.

You dashed toward where Sham’s body had fallen and kicked away her sword and - wait, was that a broom handle? You no longer felt embarrassed about using a pot.

Taking hold of the unconscious Sham, you began to move her more towards the front door. Zoro finished with Buchi with ease and knocked him unconscious. It didn’t dawn on you that something was different about him until he dragged Buchi over to where you’d placed Sham. Zoro was wearing a black bandana. And no, you did not notice how the veins in his arms were very much showing.

“We should get some rope to tie them up.”

“Good idea.”

By the time everyone made it down, Buchi and Sham had regained consciousness and you and Zoro were sitting far apart.

There was no denying when you saw them all come down the stairs, a relief so intense flooded your veins and soaked into your bones. When Usopp hugged you, you allowed yourself to hug him back just a little bit tighter.

A part of you knew that the adventures of yesterday would come to an end back in the shipyard. It would end with Kaya giving Luffy that ship he’d so lovingly given his speech for, and more so knew Luffy would ask Usopp to go with him.

It was Usopp’s dream - his real dream. Part of that dream was experiencing the freedom that the sea offered, just like his dad did. How could you ever ask someone you considered your friend - your best friend - to stay just because you weren’t ready to part with them? No. Usopp deserved adventures as grand as his stories.

While he’d been talking to Kaya you’d taken the opportunity to slip away. It’s not that you weren’t happy for him, because you were. The idea of not having him around anymore, however, began to dig a hole in your soul. So, you went to the one place that always mended it.

You were sitting with Naan at the kitchen table folding linens with water boiling on the stove and ingredients beside it. You were still waiting for Kaya to come by so you could perform an assessment. Before you could treat her, you would have to find out how extensive the damage was, and what would be the best form of treatment.

“So, Usopp’s going to be going, then?”

You didn’t expect Naan to sound sad. While she wasn’t mean like the rest of the village, she most definitely was not a fan of rising early just to hear the bell and the yelling.

“Yeah. They should already be out to sea.”

You were folding your next set of linens when Naan reached out and gently took your hand in hers. The act stops you from finishing the next fold.

“It’s all going to work out the way that it should, child.”

“I know, Naan.”

A knock on the door rescued you from having to continue whatever talk was brewing in Naan. It saved you from more than likely crying like a baby on her shoulder too. You got up from your chair and made your way over to the door when another knock came seconds before you reached it.

“Kaya, I’m coming! God, are rich people always so impatient?”

When you swung the door open, you hadn’t expected to find Luffy there smiling or the rest of the crew waiting behind him. Kaya was plainly missing from the group.

“Who is it, child?”

You felt too dumbfounded to speak. Why were they here?

“It’s alright, Naan,” you called over your shoulder, eyes still glued to Luffy. “It’s just Luffy.”

“Luffy?”

“Straw hat.”

The sound of her chair sliding back against the wood was what tore your gaze away. You looked back to find Naan struggling to get to her cane with her left hand holding her weight up by the table. You moved back from the entrance, waving him in as you rushed over to grab her cane and hand it to her.

“What are you guys doing here? I thought you’d be gone by now.”

“We were about to head out when the strangest thing happened.” You crossed your arms as you listened to Luffy. The cliff hanger his words left you on threatened to drop fresh anxiety into your gut. “I turned to get my crew onboard and realized my doctor was missing.”

“What?” You breathed.

“That’s you.”

You closed your eyes for a split second as you tried to collect your thoughts.

“Luffy, I wouldn’t make a good pirate.”

“You don’t have to be. Just like with Usopp, I saw what you did. The way you fought to protect people. I need you in my crew.”

You dropped your arms as you turned to regard Naan. The way her body leaned heavily on the cane. Her once strong body was becoming more frail by the day. You couldn’t leave her.

You swallowed hard before you replied, “Luffy, that is a splendid offer. One I don’t think anyone could pass up but I can’t leave.”

“Why the hell not?” Naan fired off.

“Naan-“

“And if you say it’s because of me, just remember you aren’t too old for me to throttle you with my cane.”

She finally pushed her hip from the side of the table and waddled over to the rack that held your satchel. Naan reached up and pulled it down, turning slowly until you came back into view, and tossed the satchel in your direction.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? You know, for being smart you sure can be dumb sometimes.”

Your eyes looked down at the satchel in your hands. You rubbed the worn leather with your thumbs as you remembered her giving you this very bag on your thirteenth birthday. The pricks of tears came unannounced and most definitely unwanted a few moments later. It made you terrified to look up. For her to see that saying goodbye might kill a piece of you, you’d never get back.

You’d never get her back either.

“Naan-“ You tried to speak but your voice cracked around her name. “Who is going to take care of you if I’m gone?”

A tsk of disbelief shot from her lips. Both her hands now came to rest on top of the cane as she regarded you coolly.

“I’ve been an old woman for a long time now. I think I can manage without you.”

“See - it’s settled,” Luffy began. “You are welcome to join our crew and that way you don’t have to give up on your dream.”

He remembered?

How silly that question was. He was Monkey D. Luffy. Of course, he was going to remember. Glancing down at the satchel in your hands once more you allowed yourself to debate one last time before you grabbed the strap and placed it over your shoulder.

Before you took that first step towards the door, you turned one last time to Naan and took one of her hands in yours. You tried to tell yourself you wouldn’t cry. You never cried, but the first tear slid down your face and called you a liar.

“Please, take care Naan. You’ve done so much for me, my whole life. If it wasn’t for you I don’t know where I would be.”

“Dead,” she stated matter-of-factly.

It was so blunt. So incredibly Naan that you couldn’t stop the sharp bark of laughter that came from you. The soft feather of her hand reached up to cup your face and forced you to look at her. A long silence pulled between you, and you wondered if she was going to say anything at all when a soft smile cracked her thin lips.

“Go, child. Be great.”

Shaking your head in agreement, the both of you broke free and you followed Luffy out of the house. You spared one last glance at Naan’s home - your home - and found her at the door seeing you off. You raised your hand in one last goodbye and watched as she did it too.

Maybe Luffy was right. It was time to go on your own adventure and you had no doubt Luffy and his crew were going to give it to you.

________

As always, comments and reblogs are always welcome

________

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If I missed anyone, please let me know! TY

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redsummermoon · 11 months ago

Note

Hello, I have one! What if the reader (female, if possible) and the rest of the poets are all supposed to hang out, but one by one everyone gets busy or caught up. So at the last second it just ends up being the reader and Meeks, and they’re alone watching TV. He talks about just leaving to study for a test (so they don’t have to be alone, because he secretly likes her). Then maybe a kiss scene or something comes on tv, and they try to laugh it off because it’s kinda awkward. Then I’ll let you finish it from there, lol.

It doesn’t have to be just like that, of course. But anyway, have a great day!

Meeks was my fav character before Charlie... might have to start writing for him too.. idk

A Lovely Night

Steven Meeks x reader CW: use of Y/N, female reader, modern day college [2.3k words]

Y/N stared at her phone, thumbs hovering over the screen, before typing out a message to the group.

"Remember Dead Poet hang out, my dorm at 7 if anyone’s still interested!" she texted, hitting send.

She had been looking forward to tonight all week, hoping the Dead Poets could all come together to watch La La Land. The movie had been on her list for a while, and she thought the others might appreciate the film. As the minutes passed, her phone buzzed one by one with responses. Most of them excuses.

Neil: "Sorry, Y/N! Todd and I are heading to see this local theater production. Catch you next time?"

Cameron: "Test in a month. Gotta start prepping now. Maybe next time."

Charlie: "Double date tonight with Knox! I’ll tell you how it goes after. You’ll survive without me, promise."

Y/N sighed, a small laugh escaping her lips. Of course, Charlie had something going on, and Cameron, well, she expected that response from him. But now, it looked like her movie night was going to be smaller than she hoped. There were only two left unaccounted for: Pitts and Meeks.

Meanwhile, Meeks sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone with wide eyes. Y/N had invited him (and everyone else) to her dorm, and while he had been excited at first, the idea of being alone with her, even just for a movie, was terrifying. His crush on her wasn’t a secret, at least not to himself, but it was something he hadn’t quite figured out how to handle yet. Being around Y/N made his thoughts scramble, and he didn’t want to do something awkward.

"Pitts!" Meeks called across the dorm room, his voice tight with nerves.

Pitts looked up from his laptop. "Yeah?"

"You’re... you’re going to the movie night with me, right?" Meeks fidgeted, his hands twisting together as he waited for his friend’s response.

Pitts raised an eyebrow. "Wasn’t planning on it, but I’m free. Why? You need me there?"

Meeks nodded rapidly, his face flushed. "Please. I... I can’t go alone. Not with Y/N. I... I don’t want it to be weird."

Pitts gave him a knowing grin. "Ahh, I see. You’ve got it bad."

Meeks groaned, burying his face in his hands. "It’s not funny. I don’t know how to act around her."

"Relax, I’ll go," Pitts said, chuckling as he closed his laptop. "I won’t leave you hanging."

Relief washed over Meeks as he grabbed his phone, quickly typing out a message to Y/N.

"Hey, Pitts and I will be there!"

Y/N smiled and set her phone down. Her roommate had gone home for the weekend, giving her the whole dorm to herself, but it could use a little cleaning. She wiped down the already-clean desk, fluffed the pillows on her bed, and adjusted the blankets, making sure everything was perfect. Even if it was just going to be Meeks and Pitts tonight, she wanted things to feel cozy and welcoming.

A part of her, though, secretly wished it could just be Meeks. She felt a flutter of nervous energy at the thought, biting her lip as she arranged her bed so it could double as a seat for watching the movie. The TV on her dresser was angled just right, ready for La La Land.

Y/N had been nursing a crush on Meeks for a while now, though she’d never admit it to anyone. There was something about his quiet intelligence, his awkward but sweet way of talking, that always made her heart race. But every time she thought about doing something like flirting or even just being a little more open, her nerves got the best of her. She could never quite bring herself to act on it, afraid that maybe she’d misread the situation or make him uncomfortable.

But tonight, she couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. Maybe something would be different. Maybe, with Pitts there as a buffer, she could relax and enjoy Meeks’ company without worrying too much.

At the same time, the thought of being alone with Meeks excited her. She knew he made her nervous in the best way possible, and she couldn’t figure out how to balance that. Y/N glanced at her phone, checking the time, feeling that familiar flutter of anxiety and excitement.

“Okay, it’s just a movie night,” she muttered to herself, taking a deep breath. “Nothing to freak out about.”

Still, her heart pounded a little faster. Maybe tonight would bring them just a little closer.

Meeks and Pitts made their way across campus, the cool evening air doing little to calm the pounding in Meeks' chest. He clutched his phone nervously, re-reading Y/N's text and hoping that tonight wouldn’t be a disaster. Pitts walked beside him, chatting easily about something Meeks wasn’t quite paying attention to. His thoughts were entirely on Y/N.

When they reached Y/N's dorm hall, Pitts slowed down, glancing at Meeks with a sly grin. "You know, I, uh... just remembered, I’ve got this thing I have to do."

Meeks froze. "What thing?"

"You know, a... uh... a thing. Class stuff," Pitts mumbled vaguely, already stepping back from the door. "But, hey, you’ve got this, Meeks. Have fun."

Before Meeks could protest, Pitts raised his fist and knocked on the door, then bolted down the hall with a quick, "Good luck!"

Meeks stood there, speechless, as Y/N’s door opened. His face flushed bright red as Y/N appeared in the doorway, smiling brightly at him, though her eyes quickly darted behind him.

"Meeks!" she said happily. "Hey! Where’s Pitts?"

Meeks swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Um... It’s just, uh, me," he stammered, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "Pitts had... something come up."

Y/N’s smile faltered for a split second. "Oh... I see."

Her voice was soft, a hint of nerves creeping in. She quickly tried to cover it, but Meeks caught the slight change, and his heart sank. He interpreted her hesitation as disappointment. Maybe she didn’t want to be stuck alone with him.

"I-I can go," Meeks said, stepping back, his voice stumbling. "I should probably be studying for that test Cameron’s studying for too."

Before he could make his retreat, Y/N’s hand shot out and grabbed his. The warmth of her fingers sent a shock through him, and he froze in place, staring at her hand holding his.

"I really want you here, Meeks," Y/N said, her voice more certain now. "Let’s watch the movie. Just the two of us, okay?"

Meeks blinked, his face burning, but he nodded slowly. "O-Okay. Yeah."

Y/N smiled, pulling him gently into the room. The door clicked shut behind them, and the sound seemed to echo in the sudden quiet. They stood there for a moment, Y/N letting go of his hand to straighten the pillows on her bed.

"Go ahead and sit," Y/N said with a soft smile. "I’ll grab snacks. I’ve got popcorn and some candy."

Meeks nodded and awkwardly sat on the edge of her bed, glancing around the cozy dorm room. His heart raced, knowing they were alone now, and the thought of just the two of them watching a movie together made his palms sweat.

Y/N returned a moment later, arms full with a bowl of popcorn and a variety of candy. She set them down on the small table next to her bed before pausing. "Do you want to share a blanket?" she asked, her voice casual, though she seemed a little nervous.

Meeks nodded again, quietly. "Sure."

Y/N grabbed a large, soft blanket and threw it over both of them, the fabric draping across their laps. She settled in beside him, her shoulder lightly brushing his as she grabbed the remote to start La La Land. The movie began, and for a while, they sat in comfortable silence, occasionally making small talk between bites of popcorn. Meeks was too nervous to make a lot of conversation, but Y/N’s presence beside him was both calming and nerve-wracking. He tried to focus on the screen, but every time she shifted slightly next to him, his mind raced.

Then came the planetarium scene. The stars swirled on the screen, and the music swelled as Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone began to dance, spinning in slow, dreamlike circles. Meeks could feel his pulse quicken as the characters drew closer, the tension building until they finally kissed.

Meeks nearly jumped at the sight, his body stiffening as a wave of embarrassment washed over him. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck and to his face, turning bright red. Y/N, noticing the movement, glanced over at him, catching his flushed expression. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, but she stayed quiet, her own nerves making her play with the hem of the blanket.

Neither of them said anything, their mutual awkwardness filling the space between them. Y/N glanced back at the screen, deciding to ignore the moment for now, though her heart was racing just as much as Meeks’.

They watched the rest of the movie in near silence, both pretending the earlier tension wasn’t lingering. When the credits rolled, Y/N let out a soft sigh.

"I loved it," she said, reaching over for some of the now-cold popcorn. "But... I hated the ending."

Meeks nodded in agreement, still a little red. "Yeah... they were in love. They should’ve ended up together."

Y/N smiled at him, their earlier awkwardness fading slightly now that the movie was over. "Exactly. It’s just... sad. It wasn’t supposed to be like that."

Meeks felt a little braver now, glancing over at her. "Maybe in a different version of the story, they do."

"Maybe." Y/N smiled softly, still thinking about the movie. She glanced at Meeks, her expression becoming more serious as she spoke, almost dreamily. “I want that someday.”

Meeks blinked, looking at her with curiosity. “Want what?”

“To be in love,” Y/N said quietly, her eyes meeting his with a sincerity that made his heart pound.

Meeks felt a surge of panic and excitement all at once. He swallowed hard, trying to muster the courage to respond. “I think I can help with that.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and excitement washing over her. “You can?” she asked, leaning in slightly, her voice full of hope.

Meeks took a deep breath. “I-I love you, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice shaking slightly. “I’ve been scared because I’m so shy, and I didn’t know if you felt the same. But you… you’re everything to me. I think the world of you. I want to give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words. She smiled warmly, reaching for his hand. “I’ve always admired you, Meeks. I think we’d be good for each other.”

Meeks’ face lit up, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of their confessions hanging in the air.

Y/N then smirked, her mind drifting back to the movie. “You know, that kiss scene... maybe we should try it sometime.”

Meeks, still a little dazed, blinked. “What, flying?” he teased, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

Y/N rolled her eyes, playfully nudging him before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Meeks froze, his mind racing. The kiss was brief but sweet, and when Y/N pulled away, Meeks felt like he was going to implode.

“T-thank you,” Meeks stammered, his face a deep shade of red. Without thinking, he jumped up, nearly tripping over his own feet as he headed for the door. “Goodnight!” he called out, rushing out of the room.

The door clicked shut behind him, and he stood in the hallway, breathless. After a moment, he realized something important. He knocked on the door again, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/N opened the door, her face filled with curiosity. “Meeks?”

“Does this mean we’re dating?” Meeks asked, his voice a little shaky but determined.

Y/N’s smile widened, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “I want it if you do.”

Meeks’ nerves melted away as he stepped forward and kissed her again, this time with more bravery, letting himself savor the moment. When they finally pulled apart, he grinned. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Meeks,” she whispered back, watching him leave with a smile still on her face.

As Meeks made his way down the dorm hallway, feeling lighter than air, he opened the building door only to be met with the grinning faces of all the Dead Poets waiting outside. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide with surprise.

“How was your date?” Pitts asked, leaning forward eagerly.

Meeks, still flustered and red-faced, managed to stammer, “W-we kissed.”

The entire group erupted into cheers, whoops, and laughter. Charlie patted him hard on the back, grinning from ear to ear. “That’s our Meeks!”

Todd and Neil exchanged knowing smiles, while Knox nodded approvingly. Meeks blinked, still processing everything. “Wait... how did you all know?”

Charlie chuckled, throwing an arm around Meeks' shoulder. “This was a plan to set you up all along, buddy.”

Meeks looked around at his friends, realization dawning on him. “You... you set this whole thing up?”

“We knew you two liked each other but were too shy to do anything about it,” Neil added, his eyes twinkling. “So we helped things along.”

Meeks smiled, feeling warmth spread through his chest. “Thanks, guys.”

“Anytime, lover boy!” Charlie teased with a wink as they all laughed and walked back to their dorms, leaving Meeks with the best night of his life.

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eluxcastar · 1 year ago

Text

Dottore giving child reader a check up

── ୨୧：il dottore & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: nobody scares you more than the Doctor, and that's why you're wholly betrayed by Father tricking you into getting a check up right under your nose, but perhaps your worries are exaggerated by rumours

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, he's a lil soft (cause if he's not poor kid might explode on site), reader is mute, reader is also autistic (but tbh you don't have to read it that way), not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 2.9k

idk what possessed me to write this I just has the thought and decided it had to be done. I got in the zone and wrote it in a few hours 😭 this is kinda loosely based off one of my characters but ambiguous enough I think to be read as a reader insert. little ball of anxiety with legs reader hehe. they come from the house of the hearth so every instance of father refers to arle

You can't think of a single person able to scare you nearly as much as the Doctor can, whether it's the daunting trip to find him wherever he hid this time or the fear of knowing he tried to bargain with Father to have the more unimpressive children—as some would call you—shipped off to him to become experiments.

Father won't allow him to get his hands on any of you, but it hardly eases the fear that he may disregard Father's warning and decide to pluck the first child he comes across up and feign ignorance when she realises they've disappeared.

Father personally entrusted you with this letter, so you cannot turn back as you make your way to where she said he should be.

The sleepiness might manage to numb you to the danger by the time you arrive and make it easier to stomach his presence, but most likely, he will only frighten you awake, and it will worsen with the shock to your system.

There's no turning back now and no declining when Father asks you to take letters, which she says are of great importance. You can't treat letters like this lightly, even if you fear the recipient.

Knowing who is behind it makes the door all the more daunting. Doors that separate you from Harbingers always make you nervous as it's not every day you find yourself faced with one armed only with a letter and shaking hands. If it were anyone else, you could've knocked in a heartbeat, but you pause to gather your bearings before raising your hand to knock.

One two, three…four. Spaced just as Columbina taught you to, and then you wait.

Several seconds pass in silence before you hear footsteps from inside, then a voice calling out to you. "The door is unlocked."

You reach for the handle, cautiously cracking open the door just enough to peek inside. Your eyes travel across the room from your left to your right until you spy Dottore seated in a chair facing away from you. He hears you, evident in the way he turns to look at you as you work up the courage to step inside and leave the door ajar behind you.

"It's you," he remarks, the closest to acknowledgment you expect to receive. You are about to make your way to hand him the letter when he interrupts you. "Close the door."

The door is always closed here like it's trying to keep someone out, but there's no one here that he would dread seeing who would knock and accept that the door is locked. He must not be trying to convince anyone of that, and if he was, maybe he'd lock the door for real and leave everyone stranded outside instead of talking.

Dottore makes you nervous. You don't know what he thinks or why, but you probably don't like it. It's the only reason why he would be here right now. Normal doctoring wouldn't get him far as a Harbinger, and the sounds you've heard coming from his lab are enough to deter you from wondering too much.

Instead, you quietly spin yourself around to push the door closed before returning to your endeavour of handing him this letter from Father she entrusted you with.

"Who is it from?" he asks, a question you remember him asking before too. You concluded that he's trying to gauge how eager he is to read it, and your answer will set his mood for the remainder of your stay.

You turn the envelope over to show him the seal on the back, which you hold out to him. The mark of the House of the Hearth—Father's seal—is displayed so that Dottore can glean the answer from wordless actions. He accepts it from your hand with a stifled eagerness, the hopes of something he'll enjoy written there held back by the knowledge that, in all likelihood, it's a trivial matter.

The moment the letter leaves your hands, you retreat to the safety of the door, where you stand beside the frame to await a half-hearted reaction or collect his response. Father is always happy when you return to the House to inform her that Dottore sighed when he read her letter, even if she regards the news with her usual stoicism. She despises when he bothers to send something back to her, but she never tells you why, as usual.

He collects something off his desk just out of your sight, hidden behind him, and the sound of paper tearing follows. He drops the twice-folded paper into his hand, then unfurls it to read the contents.

You wait in silence, nerves evening out as you rub the sleep from your eyes with the back of your hand. Sleepiness does help you occupy yourself if nothing else.

Then, you are interrupted by a snap of his fingers and a motion of his hand to usher you closer.

Keeping him waiting will only make him mad, though you're sure not enough time has passed for him to pen any cohesive message in the minute or two you spent waiting.

You look up in anticipation nonetheless, expecting him to hand you something or tell you something so when he reaches toward you, it doesn't alarm you.

Not until he grabs you beneath your arms, picks you up, and sits you down on the table, much closer to eye level with him.

"Arlecchino has her concerns about your sleeping habits and your seeming lack of will to speak," he begins, reaching behind you to grab something you barely follow before he has it in his hands. It's only a light, small and thinner than the torches at the House.

Your mind races with every question you can think of as you try to find a way off this table back to the floor, but the only way out is blocked by Dottore sitting in front of you, unsympathetic to the fear in your eyes when you stare at him. You could swear you hear your heartbeat thrumming in your ears in a quickened rhythm.

What was written in that letter? Was it about you? It takes only a brief glance down in search of the open letter to realise exactly what makes this delivery so important. Father tricked you into coming here to see the Doctor after you so eagerly declined her previous offer to go willingly. You catch glimpses of your name in Father's handwriting and little else as it blurs into a messy sea of details, but you always recognise how Father writes your name.

You know better than to assume this is punishment but rather the manifestation of Father's worry as you keep oversleeping lately and need one of the older children to fetch you from the comfort of your bed. The idea that habit would land you here, presumably getting a check-up, might've inspired you to prize yourself out of bed a little earlier had you known.

Dottore seems to gauge your trembling as an obvious sign of fear, though a twitch at the corner of his lips is your only indicator, as you can't see his eyes beneath the mask. "Her explicit concern was whether or not you're ill." He rests his hand against your knee— they're cold, yet you almost expect it. It doesn't mean you especially like it. You can only interpret the action as a skewed attempt to comfort you. "As long as you're healthy, I see no reason to keep you longer than a simple check up."

He's not a real doctor, is all you can think, and he doesn't know what he's doing.

You have no choice but to steel yourself for whatever pain you're about to be subjected to. It might hurt, but you have no way out, no way back to Father, so you can curl up in a ball at her feet and ask why she would subject you to this torture—

"Don't tense your jaw," you suddenly hear, realising his finger taps your knee to grab your attention back from dreamland. "Open your mouth," he instructs you, and rather simply at that. It's something you can follow without getting scared he'll hurt you somehow.

He shines that light at you, inspecting something, though you can't say what. A slight tilt of his hand and, by proxy, the light he's holding is your only sign he's looking at anything.

The light is off before you know it. There was no pain at all, not even a hint of discomfort beyond what naturally arises from your ever-present anxiousness.

Dottore moves to set the light beside you, then appears to change his mind as he offers it to you. You take it from his hand and click it just as he had, the light coming on again. Another click, and it's off. Holding it just like that, an object of clicks and ridges and a light you can play with, is enough to give you something to at least take your mind off the fear of getting hurt.

"Lift your head."

This time, compliance comes easier as you tilt your head up until the point his hand stops nudging you, and instead, he presses his fingers against your throat. It's light enough to feel only slight pressure; it doesn't hurt, but you don't like that feeling. Your thumb brushes over the exterior of the light, smooth against the pads of your fingers and satisfying to touch. You pull away before you can come to your senses and stop yourself, but he lets go the moment your discomfort flares, and you do the closest you can to telling him no.

Your breathing begins to even back out seeing his hands so clearly in the air in front of you, away from you, not touching you. It's silent reassurance that what you just did counts enough as revoking his permission to touch you as anything can.

Dottore doesn't feel like dealing with the fussy child that trying to force it would invoke for a mere favour to the Knave.

Instead, simply asking you like the fully grown child you are seems much more efficient. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, all yes or no," he begins. "They're all simple enough you can answer without speaking."

You interpret the ensuing silence as Dottore waiting, expecting you to nod or shake your head, and you quickly offer a nod in agreement.

"Do you know if you're able to speak?"

You consider his question carefully, unsure of the answer. Your hesitation prompts him to rephrase the question.

"Are you able to make any noises at all?"

You nod. You know the answer to that.

"But not speak in full words?"

Not words. Words don't work. You shake your head.

"Would that be because you're physically unable to?"

You shake your head. You've spoken before, but each time you try, especially here, something robs you of your voice before you get the chance. You know you can talk, just not here like this.

"If not physical, then there's nothing wrong with you," he concludes. It feels sudden like there should be more, but he stops so quickly. "Nothing that I can fix," he promptly adds. That explains it.

Why not? He doesn't answer, unable to hear the things you don't say. To him, you remain as starkly silent as ever and as difficult to treat as you have been the past few minutes. You suspect he came to some greater conclusion between when you first walked in and now but neglects to share with you what it is.

You must look unsatisfied or just confused as he pauses to stare at you. You look away first, eyes drifting back to the light in your hands.

"Arlecchino only wanted to know if something was physically wrong with you," he says, briefly looking down at the letter as he skims a particular section again. "Your poor sleep may be the result of insomnia, or whatever is causing the mental block that also prevents you from speaking."

Mental block? Nobody ever told you about anything like that.

You eye him curiously, though you again remain silent, watching him while you think he isn't looking back. It's easy to look at him as long as you don't consciously think of the fact that he's staring at you behind that mask.

Dottore holds his hand out expectantly, a motion of his fingers telling you he wants you to return what you have in your hands to him. You do so, but not without a sadness-driven hesitance to accompany it.

"None of the things you're describing imply a physical problem, but a paranoid 'parent' overattentive to the wrong facets of what could be wrong with an orphan." You don't like the way he says that as if he's speaking ill of Father, but like always, you keep your mouth shut. "If you couldn't speak because of a physical injury, you would have presented with one when you arrived at the House of the Hearth—not now. Trouble sleeping and an elevated heart rate, shortness of breath, intense panic and your tremors are more likely the symptoms of anxiety."

That's a lot of words, but as he quickly lists every example, you seem to become conscious of it. Mental block, anxiety. Those are the two things you've been told that sound like explanations. You look down as if on instinct, hands held in front of you to investigate his claims that you're shaking. You are. Before your eyes, your hands are trembling, though you can't say why. You look back at him to see if he has anything else to say.

You thought your sleep troubles weren't the same, the result of bad dreams, but supposedly not. Dottore doesn't know anything about that, does he? No, he can't. You never told him, so he can't know. He knows lots of things he shouldn't, like your heart racing when you're scared or how you feel like you can't breathe at times.

Dottore clicks the light on again, shining it down at your hands resting in your lap. He circles it in place, and your eyes follow. It clicks off again after a few seconds. "Distraction helps anxiety," he says, then sets it down on the desk beside you. "Do you know why you can't sleep?" he asks.

Yes. You nod. Dreams. On nights when they're at their worst, they keep you awake long past bedtime when all others have gone to sleep. By breakfast, you can be so tired and sleep-deprived that dozing off over your food is the only thing you can manage.

You half expect to sit through another round of questioning before Dottore finds the one that clicks the pieces perfectly together in his head, just as he did in the first round.

Instead, Dottore stands, and his hands find your sides to hook you under your arms. Your feet are back on the ground before you can fuss any more about how much you do or do not like it. With you out of his way, he flips the paper Father wrote her request to him on.

"If you know the answer, then you're free to go."

That's it?

You stare up at him for a moment, perplexed by the surprising lack of pain compared to the abundance of fear you felt. It should have hurt, but it didn't, and now you don't know why you were so against coming here in the first place. Dottore spared five or ten minutes of his time, which he already didn't want to give you, and is sending you on your way without injury,

You can't see his face as he's turned away, writing something down that you can't make out. If you took a guess what it is, it's probably about you, just like the first one was. Still, you can tell why Father is so annoyed to receive letters from him. You don't recognise your name when he writes it. You don't recognise anything he writes. His handwriting is awful.

He folds it and slips it back into the envelope it was given to him in. That's not proper etiquette, but something in the way he practically shoves it into your hands tells you that he doesn't particularly care. So long as it gets from him to Father, it doesn't matter how it gets there in his eyes.

"Give that to the Knave." That is his final instruction. You're very used to following those kinds of instructions by now, having heard and executed them many times. They're second nature to your mind.

You nod, pinching it between your fingers to keep the paper from falling out of the open envelope. If Father's was critical, so is this one, and you'll get it back to her quickly—more importantly, safely.

You can't help wondering why it felt so much easier to have someone briefly look at you and ask a few questions. The older children make it sound torturous and barbaric, like being used as a lab rat to spite Father for her refusal with his only opportunity to access the children of the House.

Perhaps seeing a doctor to ease Father's worries isn't as scary as you believed.

#✦ — scenarios.#✦ — fluff.#for anyone wondering #yes this is extremely self-indulgent #because the little doctor-fearing child in me needs to be soothed #by a scarier doctor LMAO #dottore #il dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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