#lets get this bread and answer stuff!

[appocalipse]

the same thing ・❥・b. barnes

summary: during a mission, you put yourself in harm's way to protect bucky. back at the avengers compound, he wants to know why. | 1.4k words, angst with a happy ending

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"You should be resting."

You don't turn your head as the familiar voice comes from behind you, too focused on the delicate art of making the perfect sandwich to look away. You are a woman on a mission. "I was hungry."

A few seconds later, he's standing next to you, leaning back against the countertop with arms folded across his broad chest. "It's been less than twelve hours since they patched you up."

He's not going to stop hovering, you realize, because that's what Bucky does when he's worried.

"Want half?" Maybe you can distract him with food.

He regards the towering monstrosity on the cutting board and the chaotic layers of meat, cheese, and veggies sticking out at all angles.

You can't help but grin as you slap another slice of bread on top. "A quarter, then?"

Bucky has the audacity to look offended. "I'm not eating that thing."

You cradle the plate in your left hand, holding the sandwich with your right, and give him a pointed look. "Your loss."

Bucky just watches, arms still crossed, as you take a huge bite. His blue eyes remain narrowed, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He's like a one-man intervention waiting to happen. You shrug and wander over to the kitchen table.

Sitting down is a bit of an effort. The wound on your side pulls as you slowly lower yourself onto the chair, but if you can keep from grimacing too hard, Bucky won't be able to tell, will he?

Your smile probably gives you away. He narrows his eyes further. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I'm hungry?"

"No." Bucky takes a step forward. "I meant why did you get between me and that shot?"

Good question. The answer is embarrassing and you'd sooner walk barefoot over hot coals than tell him the truth.

"Hm?"

Another step. "I have superhuman healing powers."

"I'll live."

"It was stupid."

"You're ruining my—ow," you mutter, dropping the sandwich as you instinctively put your hand over your bandage. There goes the carefully maintained poker face. You force yourself to remove your hand and look up at Bucky with what you hope is an innocent expression, even as your side throbs in protest. "My sandwich. You're ruining my sandwich. Are you sure you don't want a bite?"

Bucky is too smart to take the bait. He moves around the table, coming to stand in front of you. The whole 'arms-crossed-stern-glare' thing again. It would be intimidating if you didn't know him so well.

"You could've been killed," he's like a dog with a bone, you swear.

"But I wasn't," you say pointedly. "I'm fine."

"Fine? You were shot."

"Will you just let it go? It doesn't even...hurt...that much," you lie.

It will take a while for the super-soldier serum in your blood — a weaker variation of the same stuff that runs through Bucky's veins — to kick in and accelerate your healing.

Bucky exhales. He looks about ready to give you an earful, but then his gaze shifts and he notices the way you're holding your side, how stiffly you're sitting.

You move your traitorous hand away like you've been burned.

"How bad is it?"

"Huh?" you sound deliberately casual. Too casual. "It's...totally fine. Not bad, really. Don't worry. I don't even feel it."

There's the reason why you've never been a spy. You can't lie to save your life, apparently.

Or maybe just not to Bucky.

"Okay. It hurts, like, just a little bit...like—like not even hurts hurts, just..." you trail off with a grimace as he comes closer. "More of an itch?"

"An itch?" Bucky sounds dubious.

"More of a burn," you concede. "A...mildly annoying but totally manageable sort of a burn."

"You are a terrible liar."

"Okay, so it hurts," you snap, the last vestiges of your patience vanishing. "I have an extensive hole in my side, I get it. It's not—I don't want you to feel bad about it. It's really not terrible, I can take it."

Bucky shakes his head. "What if it had been worse? What if they'd shot you somewhere vital?"

"They didn't."

"But what if they had?"

"Then I would have died!"

Bucky looks at you like you just kicked him. "Yeah. That's what I'm trying to say."

You open your mouth, then close it.

"You think I want that?" he asks softly.

"No." You suddenly feel very small. "Of course not, I just...just..."

"Just what?"

"I don't know," you admit with a sigh. "It's just that you are...people need you, you know? And you have a life, people who care about you, but I'm just..."

A nobody. A girl with no past, who can barely make sense of her present.

"...it would be better if it was me. That's all."

"It would never be better if you were hurt."

"Bucky—"

"You don't get it, do you?" he asks in a low voice. "People need you too."

You roll your eyes. "Please. You mean the team?"

"Me," Bucky says pointedly. "You think it's easy for me? When you get hurt? It kills me."

The sandwich lays forgotten on the table, squashed flat under your clasped hands. "It...kills you?"

He just looks at you for a long moment.

Your heart flutters in your chest. You have a sudden, intense urge to break the silence with a terrible joke, a quip, something light and witty to dispel the heaviness in the air and make this moment go away. But before you can open your mouth, Bucky shakes his head.

"You kill me."

Okay, that's not where you thought this was going. "What?"

"When you say stuff like that. When you make it sound like you don't matter, like it's okay for you to get hurt. Or worse. It's not."

Oh.

"Bucky," you try again, with a more serious tone. "I don't—"

"Stop saying that," he cuts you off.

You realize your mouth is still hanging open and snap it shut.

"You want to know what I think?" Bucky is so close now you could reach out and touch him, if you were brave enough. "I think that you got this...thing in your head, that you're not good enough, or strong enough, or that you're broken somehow. I think that you forget that it's okay to want things. I think that maybe you think nobody needs you. That no one wants you."

You swallow. You're afraid to say anything, to move, because your heart is hammering against your ribs and Bucky is looking at you like he can see straight into your soul.

"But I do."

"Do...what?" you whisper.

"Want you."

It's the last thing you expect to hear. "Bucky, you don't mean that."

His voice drops an octave. "Don't tell me what I mean."

Your cheeks are burning. You feel pinned under his gaze. Your side is throbbing again and you have a mouthful of butterflies and it's all just too much.

You move to get up but only make it halfway before the wound pulls again and you wince. "Shit."

"Where do you think you're going?" Bucky reaches out to help you, one hand braced against your shoulder as you sink back down into the chair. His expression has softened. "You need to rest."

You really want to kiss him right now.

It's the closest he's ever been to you, perhaps. You can feel his breath on your face.

"I need to...? You really confuse me, Barnes."

"How so?"

"Well, first you tell me that I kill you, and then you say you want me. It's kind of a mixed message—"

"I'm not interested in being just friends with you," Bucky cuts you off abruptly. "Is that clear enough?"

Your lips part but nothing comes out. There's a warm, tingling sensation in your chest and you suddenly can't breathe properly. "That's—you—"

Bucky smirks, just a little. He looks almost...proud of himself? Like he's happy he's rendered you speechless for once.

You decide to take a page from his book and put him on the spot. "And what do you think I want?"

"I don't know," he murmurs, leaning even closer. "But I hope it's the same thing."

His lips brush against yours, soft and gentle. He pulls away and you want to chase after him but then he's back again and kissing you harder this time, all teeth and tongue and ragged breathing and heat.

You close your eyes. Your head is spinning and you can't get enough air but you're kissing him back now, both hands coming up to fist in his shirt, holding on for dear life.

His mouth trails down your neck, leaving hot kisses along your jawline. You let out a breathy sigh.

"Is that...supposed to help me heal faster, mhm?"

Bucky just smiles against your skin.

[sophiasrant]

hc that no one on the JL (or any of the teams) will let bats do the heavy lifting, ever

Like one day they need to carry an unconscious Flash after a battle and someone else (who has a broken arm) is like “who is well enough that they can carry him” and Batman, ceo of ignoring his injuries™️, is like “I got this” but his mouth starts leaking blood while he’s carrying flash. Superman (who was holding up a building) x-rays him & is like “YOU HAVE THREE BROKEN RIBS AND INTERNAL BLEEDING. WHY ARE YOU CARRYING FLASH?” “…I am well enough to carry flash”

anyway this applies to all bats. Someone asks if someone else can volunteer to help them lift something and, no matter what, Kon puts his hand over Tim’s mouth bc of the broken leg incident™️. Tim will never even be allowed a chance to make a case or attempt to answer the call.

Someone asks if Robin can help to carry something and Jon immediately replies “no he can’t. I’ll do it tho.” bc Damian once tried to conduct cleanup (lifting pieces of broken buildings and concrete) post alien-invasion with a stab wound (it was multiple stab wounds but only Jon figured that out)

Someone asks nightwing if he can carry stuff to the car and all of a sudden you have eight people shouting “NO” bc he once offered to carry someone’s old 60 pound box TV to storage while he had a gunshot wound. They only learned about the gunshot wound after he fainted & the tv fell on top of him.

Jason leaves before anyone can ask him to help with anything

Edit:

Steph and Cass fight over who carries the thing for the other person, but usually neither of them volunteer. They're gone the second the battle is over. Babs never has to carry shit even if it's a loaf of bread because she goes "wow, really? have the wheelchair bound girl carry shit for you, sure" so the person stammers and she gets away with it every single time.

Duke is allowed to carry things. (Other teams have yet to find out about his injuries.) In fact, they compliment him on being responsible enough to not over-exert himself. He smiles back. (He's trying not to laugh.)

[charliemwrites]

Men At Work - Part 3

I know this has been a little slow to start, but things should progress a little more quickly from here. I wanted to establish some of the groundwork for this weird dynamic they all have but unfortunately, these men don't know the meaning of slow, even in my own head.

No Content Warnings

“How are the repairs going?” you ask.

It’s just Nikto today, returning your Tupperware from dinner the other night. He’s covered head to toe once again, all that’s visible are those glass blue eyes. One way mirrors - hiding everything beneath the surface.

They remind you of… something. 

Hmm. When you figure it out, they’re sure to make an appearance in your next novel.

“On track,” he answers in that sharp, staccato way you’re learning is just his way.

Unfortunately for him, that just makes you more curious. You know it’s a bit obnoxious - you’re not entitled to information, you know that. And most of the time you curb the inquiries tapping at the back of your teeth. But he’s in your house, snuggling your traumatized cat. If he’s got a problem answering casual questions, you’re certain he’ll have no problem letting you know.

“You’re redoing the whole thing?”

“Most of it. Foundation is good. The rest - дерьмо.”

You don’t know a lick of Russian, but you can guess.

“Good bones,” you hum in understanding. As if you know anything about construction. “That helps. When do you think it will be done?”

He shifts, sharp eyes flicking between your busy hands, the door, and Rasputin holding him lovingly hostage.

Little guy is currently perched on your shoulder, face buried against your collar in abject despair that his bestest friend hasn’t come to visit. Shithead is poaching (or attempting to, anyway) the sandwiches you’re assembling. So far, she’s only swishing her tail, biding her time. You’re keeping an eye on her.

“Two months. Three if any of us are called.”

You hum, reach for the tomatoes. It’s only because you’re looking at him that you notice the slightest twitch around his eyes. Beneath his mask, you’d bet he’s scrunching his nose.

“No?”

“I will eat.”

You leave the tomatoes off. Guy mews sadly, you tilt your head to press a kiss to his little ear.

“So, two or three months. Krueger said you’ll move in then.”

“Da.”

You top the sandwiches with a final slice of bread and turn to the oven. Spin back just in time to catch Shithead’s paw reaching for Krueger’s designated sandwich. Nikto eyes the plate of brownies in your free hand; you bite the corner of your mouth to keep from grinning.

“What about the yard?”

Nikto tilts his head. If he didn’t give the impression of a particularly large predator, you’d call it cute. As it is, even spiders and snakes endear themselves to you somehow.

“What about yard?”

“Any plans for it?” You sneak an extra brownie onto Nikto’s plate. Reward and apology for wrenching conversation out of him. “Grass? Trees? Flowers?”

He blinks. Just once. Some sort of intuition tells you that even that behavioral tic is a big social step for him.

“No.”

“Oh, uh… gravel then?”

“We mean no plans,” he corrects.

“Oh! Alright, I suppose that’s a long way off anyway. There’s still so much work to do on the inside.”

But it does get you thinking. What even goes into fixing a house? And how do they know all this stuff? The electric, the insulation, the… whatever else goes into a home. Is it just Weird Things they picked up from the military?

You stare contemplatively at the house’s exterior as you walk the plates across the street with Nikto. (Ras is riding on his shoulder and Guy refused to detach his claws from yours. You fear for the state of your home with Shithead left behind, but neither you nor Nikto had a spare hand to wrangle her with.)

Nikto practically kicks the door in, shouting for the others as he goes. Guy chooses that moment to start crying - uncanny sense for appearing pathetic as possible.

Konig must hear him halfway down the stairs, because the steady boot steps get faster after a moment.

“Oh, bubchen! Why are you sad? What has happened?” Konig coos, nearly running to your side.

Of course, now that he’s gotten what he wanted, Guy’s volume lowers. He makes a pleased little “mrow” and slinks off your shoulder and into Konig’s reaching hands. You’d call him a traitor but you’re a damn sucker for a big man with a cute animal. 

“You two are ridiculous,” you laugh, setting the plates on the counter.

It’s already been replaced since last you saw it. Black granite, very sleek. You like it. (Which of them installed it? Nikto? You usually catch glimpses of him on the ground floor.)

“He is a baby, Biene,” Konig protests, “he must be treated like one.”

“He’s already five!” You reply, like you don’t have a papoose for when your hands are too full to snuggle him.

“Did I stutter? I do not think so. This is a baby.”

You have to turn away to hide your laughter, pretending that taking the foil off the lunches requires your full attention.

Krueger steps up behind you while you’re not looking. The heat of him is what alerts you, the only reason you don’t jump when his rough voice comes by your head.

“Where is the Shithead.”

“Hello to you too, Krueger. How is your day?”

He grunts and reaches past you, trying to snatch up a brownie. Without a thought, you slap at his hand - balk at the sharp whack sound it makes. He jerks his hand back in shock.

“You deny me my dearest friend and you attack me in my own home.”

You spin on your heel, mouth already open. False start as you realize he’s even closer than you expected. The height difference doesn’t seem like much until you’re eye level with his neck. You untangle your tongue and ignore the smirk growing at the corner of his scarred mouth.

“This is barely a house, never mind a home,” you scoff.

He snorts - that smirk turns to a full blown grin. A little crazed. Unfortunately, that makes it more attractive. (And the bastard probably knows it too.)

“You insult me too, now.”

“Sure, but I brought you food.”

He flicks his eyes to the plate behind you and arches a brow.

“Bring me the little Sheisskerl and I will forgive you.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Go get her yourself.”

What the hell did you just say? Inviting a man into your house unaccompanied?! You may not be a true crime writer, but you know better.

You still don’t take it back.

He locks eyes with you, gives the distinct impression that he knows exactly what you just thought and he’s amused by your obstinance.

“Fine.” He reaches past your hip. Smells like sweat and something that reminds you of heat. Solder? Certainly not anything you’re used to. “Behave, eh? Konig is easy to take advantage of.”

You snort and glance at Konig over his shoulder, who’s glaring now. (Somehow no less intimidating even with Guy nuzzling at his mask.)

As Krueger turns, he takes a big bite of brownie, humming appreciatively under his breath. You shake your head, then turn to Konig.

“If you want to steal one of his sandwiches, I’ll look the other way.”

Konig barks a short, sharp laugh of surprise. It startles you a bit, but not enough to wipe the grin from your face. You know he really means it when he sounds like that.

“How are the bathroom repairs going?” you ask.

“They are going well!” he answers. Then launches into an in-depth explanation of all the ongoing projects. Replacing walls, rewirings, outlet and light installations. What doesn’t go over your head is almost too fast to understand as his accent thickens with excitement. You nod along anyway, because you asked, and he’s stupidly endearing - big muscular man getting a bit squeaky while he rambles about pipes.

He barely even notices Guy’s little paw reaching until it’s shoved into his open mouth. He sputters as you burst into laughter, gently tucking Guy’s arm against his chest.

“Why would you do this?!” he asks, only to receive a slow blink in response.

“He’s saying you need to eat,” you giggle, nudging Konig’s plate.

“Oh, that’s right! Thank you for the lunch!”

Barely a couple bites in and you hear the door open again. Krueger stomps in with Shithead bundled in his arms, one hand under her bottom, the other around her tummy. She’s got her head tilted all the way back to chirp and chitter at him.

“Why are you carrying her like that?” you ask, choking back a giggle. 

“It is how she wishes to be carried.”

You blink at her - but sure as shit, she’s perfectly content being held like a child’s toy.

“Well good luck eating like that.”

“You won’t feed me?” he leers.

“I don’t want rabies if you bite me.”

His laughter is even harsher than Konig’s. You like it instantly.

All that’s left is to hear Nikto’s.

Agatha is outside when Nikto walks you back home.

(Krueger huffed that he had too much work to do for the day, but he would see you for dinner. While you were still blinking in shock at his self-invite, Konig transitioned Little Guy back into your arms. All the while grumbling at Krueger’s impatient German.)

She scowls as she notices your two-person parade. Nikto’s juggling Little Guy and Rasputin; you’ve got a firm grip on Shithead and the stack of dirty plates. You snort a bit just thinking of her paranoid comments about them being bad men. Sure, they might be in some ways, but it’s a hard sell when Ras is trying to lick at the edge of the mask around Nikto’s eyes.

“Afternoon, Agatha,” you call, just to be petty.

“When is your fiance coming by again?” she calls back. “Such a lovely young man.”

Your mirth dries up in an instant. “I broke up with my boyfriend four months ago. I thought I told you.”

You did. You know you did. Because she’s a nosy pain in the ass that was asking about your Easter plans with him (trying to invite you to church once again) when you told her that you left him. She’d even fussed about it at the time, saying that there’s hardly anything that can’t be healed with time and understanding.

(It was only your commitment to your own privacy that kept you from asking how much time it takes to smooth over someone cheating with your cousin.)

At your side, Nikto grunts. You glance sideways at him, wondering what he must think.

But his eyes are on Agatha. Even Rasputin has paused the grooming routine to narrow his one eye at her.

“Is this the one that looks in mailbox?” he asks, louder than you’ve ever heard.

Loud enough that she hears. And flushes redder than the poppies in your flowerboxes.

“That’s her husband, actually,” you answer. She sputters, and an incredibly immature bolt of satisfaction suffuses you.

He grunts again. Eyes her up and down. “Maybe we leave surprise for him next time, da?”

You press your lips together, but it does nothing to prevent you from grinning. He’s deadly serious, though, which somehow makes it even funnier to you.

“Maybe!” you reply in a tone that really means absolutely.

Nikto shuts the door on her face before Agath can get out a threat to call the police.

“You’ve got a petty streak,” you say, grinning at him.

He tilts his head. “You like.” He doesn’t even sound sure if it’s a question or a statement.

“Yeah,” you giggle, “I like it.”

He grunts and takes the plates from your hand. “We wash. You think about dinner and revenge. Da?”

You plop yourself onto a stool by the kitchen counter. “Da.”

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[cheemscakecat]

Fun/Interesting details in Expiration Date

Heavy knows that Pauling is calling them, and lets Scout be the one to answer. Also, road safety because he’s not distracted driving.

Medic is so hyped about tumor bread.

Hoovy smelling the sandwich and deciding it’s safe to eat [or that it doesn’t matter at this point].

Pyro standing like that. He don’t know what’s going on, but he’ll still be polite. Also, Sniper just chillin in the back with a poker face the whole time.

Medic smiles at Soldier as they walk past. Engineer’s got that Conhager death-cheating focus at the moment.

Spy’s eyes widen angrily when he realizes it’s Scout at the door and then he smirks like; “Oh hi! Twelve hours was enough time for you to get bored of my absence, then?”, not expecting a sincere apology [maybe one orchestrated by the other teammates, but not Scout].

There was some vitriol behind that “***”, look at his nose. He does not want Scout to gloat, try to prank him again, or give a fake apology. And that’s valid, since the team dying is something Scout should have taken seriously, and the last wishes handled with respect. He crossed a line that Spy doesn’t take lightly.

Dad, I threwed up. But in all seriousness, that’s the “My family is dysfunctional, and I don’t know how to be emotionally honest with people” posture.

See my bucket scene analysis for more on these two.

He didn’t say “You’re terrible with girls” in a snide or smug tone, he said it with like actual parental concern. “Scout, no you have three days! Do you want to die rejected or die before you can enjoy being together? No. Don’t do this to yourself.”

Look at that cup, he did not need a refill. This fake smirk and disinterest is Spy’s way of checking how serious Scout is about this last wish and taking his advice. And when he goes “This never leaves this room” Spy perks up.

Medic was taking a sample of bread tumor puss [or injecting it with something].

They have a whole entire wrestling ring, how did I never notice that?

This is one of those multiple choice questions where you can choose more than one answer and have it be right. But the chicken in combination with the other options looses you points, and just taking the chicken is like the token wrong answer.

Spy sighs when he realizes Scout chose just the chicken. Like chile, I gave you multiple options and you still went with your go-to that doesn’t work!

This room has a gym floor, which implies Spy took a bunch of fancy stuff from one of his rooms just for this date training. Also shoutout to the other teammates for helping with this.

Okay, so most of these decorations came from Pyro, who Scout is terrified of. Archimedes came from Medic, who Scout also doesn’t want to make angry, and the grass cutouts are potentially part of the base camouflage. But that disco ball? That belongs to Scout, he just doesn't want anyone to know he’s real into that. [The team would not judge, but his brothers would, so.]

Man when he gets his heart broken, I hope he finds the right girl for him. He deserves better than Pauling always making excuses to turn him down instead of telling him like it is.

Foreshadowing Solly being romantical towards Zhanna. Look at this content man.

Spy holding his knife like this. There’s no reason for it to be a threat, so he’s just genuinely in the habit of doing this while listening. Or while nervous, which also makes sense.

[bweeeb]

HEART SHOT

BUCKY BARNES × READER

Summary: Bucky needs a strategy and the best strategist he knows he broke up with two months ago.

Warnings: bad writing! English is not my first language. Drama, Bucky and reader, both stubborn. If you close your eyes you can see anguish. Cutest, Bucky is a lot of girl bread and stuff like that.

Part two here💅

I do not allow anyone to use my work. Requests are open.

..............................................................................................

With a heavy head, your gut feeling pulled you to look out the window, your eyes narrowing in doubt, as if the window itself was some kind of trick.

You changed your clothes. Meanwhile, across the city, Bucky was driving like a maniac, grumbling about the group's forced discussion.

"Are you an idiot? Or are you just pretending to be one?" Yelena snapped at John, who was stubbornly pushing a stupid idea.

"At least I think," he retorted.

"You think?" Yelena laughed loudly. Bucky rolled his eyes, annoyed. He just wanted them to shut up.

"Shut up before I give up," he said, pulling the truck over on a back street behind a building, then motioned for the group to follow.

"Where exactly are we going?" John asked.

"We need a strategy."

"You didn't answer the question," Ava said, narrowing her eyes for a few seconds.

"Just act like normal people, or she won't let us in," Bucky mumbled as they got into the elevator, watching the numbers on the screen while listening to their grumbling.

"Who is she exactly, Barnes?" Yelena asked.

"You know Y/n," he grumbled, and Yelena smiled, putting her hands on her hips.

"Could you not spread your wings like that? The elevator's small," Ava requested, feeling the space get tighter.

"My little one smiled, so she trusts this Y/n. So do I," Alexei said, and Yelena looked down, shaking her head.

Bucky just thought the elevator had never taken so long to arrive.

When they got out, Bucky approached the door and rang the doorbell, almost giddy with what he was doing.

Your footsteps inside the apartment became silent the moment you heard many voices together coming from the hallway, your spine stiffened and your feet became strategically stealth.

Bucky knew this; he knew you well enough to know you were coming to the camera that was somewhere there.

"Friday. Who the hell is here?" you whispered, and Friday whispered back as if she were a flesh-and-blood friend right in front of you.

"Bucky Barnes, Y/n. He is accompanied by some people: Yelena Belova, John Walker, Alexei Shostakov, and Ava Starr."

When you finally saw the figure of the man who made your chest ache, a sigh escaped your lips, and the door was opened quickly and impatiently, as if you wanted to end the anguish that was breaking you.

"You fucking scared the crap out of me!" you said, one hand on your hip and the other on the door. "What are you doing here, Buck? Are you okay?"

Always worried, Bucky thought, remembering how you would gently touch his face when he came back from screwed-up missions, or even how you would hide your own injuries to tend to his after being thrown from a truck at 150 km/h. Bucky missed that feeling and hated feeling it because he didn't want you to forget for him.

"I'm fine, doll. We just need shelter for a little while."

His eyes scanned the people behind him, and your expression softened when you looked at Yelena. You and Nat were very close, even more so after Hydra captured you and injected you with a test serum that left you stuck in your nineteen-year-old body. Every time Yelena and her father visited, you made sure to force Tony to house them in the Tower. She was your best friend, so you shared Yelena's pain when Nat passed.

"Yelena," your voice remained soft as you hugged her first.

"How have you been?"

You didn't answer because if you said you were fine, it would be a lie. Crying yourself to sleep, hugging a pillow that he once warmed, wasn't "doing well." So you just turned the question around as if it were something healthy.

"How are you?"

"Doing okay, sort of. It's good to see you, though, dear," she murmured, letting you go. You then looked at the big man who resembled the Russian Santa Claus.

"You look like the giant Santa Claus from Russia. Red Guardian."

Alexei smiled, recognizing you, and picked you up in his arms, lifting you off the ground.

"I told you he looks like Santa, man," John said as Yelena and Bucky told Alexei to put you down.

"The multi-millionaire genius daddy's girl is dating the heartless congressman?" Ava asked softly, and your eyes narrowed on her when you were back on the ground. You didn't know her, and she had a cool suit, which meant she was strong and potentially dangerous.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Direct like her father," John pointed out, and your gaze fell on him with disgust.

"You didn't know my father, so don't talk about him." You rolled your eyes, and Bucky looked at you, smiling. He loved that you were as blunt as he sometimes was, because you had always been the kindest person he knew, and you being rude meant you were alert and annoyed by the things that had been irritating him all day.

"I'm sorry to show up like this."

You hadn't seen each other in two months, since you broke up. Things between you hadn't ended well; the decision had been unilateral on Buck's part, who kept repeating that he wasn't good for you and that he would be putting you in danger by his side. He left while you cried in the same apartment you shared. And what hypocrisy, because now he was right there, when he had put himself in danger.

"Come in. You look like shit."

"How sweet she is," someone said, making you roll your eyes and reconsider why you were helping them.

Then you looked at Bucky, who was already staring at you, and with slumped shoulders, you looked at your feet as you stepped away from the door.

"This place is amazing," Yelena said as she entered your apartment, receiving a silent smile from you. That place was yours, but half the things were arranged and decided by you and Bucky. Even though it was full of memories of your father, that place wasn't just yours, but Bucky's too.

"Mi casa es tu casa. As always, Yelena." You smiled without teeth and closed the door, watching the group enter your house uncomfortably.

"Right... you need, I don't know? A shower? Or food?"

Your speech was interrupted by Alpine's meow, who came from upstairs and circled Bucky's legs before the man picked up the cat and stroked its white fur.And there he was, the Winter Soldier, now the grumpy congressman, making a cat purr in his arms. I know, Alpine, I know, I also miss his hands stroking me, you thought to yourself, shaking your head when you heard a disguised cough.

"So..."

"Food would be good," Yelena affirmed, and everyone agreed.

"I'd really like a shower," John said, and your gaze fell on him with disdain.

"Have you learned how not to be a jerk, or do I still have to hate you?"

"I never did anything bad to you." He shrugged, and you narrowed your eyes.

"Oh, please, John. Cut that crap."

"Alright, let's stop wasting her time talking nonsense, okay?" Bucky stood beside you and let go of Alpine, who settled between you like the couple's child, meowing as if scolding John for talking to you.

"I have a lasagna in the fridge that Pepper made me buy, and it's universe-sized, so if you want, I can put it in the oven for you."

Almost immediately, the answers were yes, so you did. You heated the food for them and stayed there, arms restlessly around your body, unsure what to do with those people in your house. Since Tony left, then Nat, Matt also distanced himself from the world, then Bucky from you—you felt... alone most of the time. Your week was silent, except for moments when Morgan would give you her personal daily report around seven in the evening.

"So, what are you guys involved in?" you asked, drawing their attention away from their plates.

"There's this guy named Bob..." Alexei began to speak while drinking your whiskey until Bucky rudely cut him off, shaking his head.

"Don't worry about it," he said, and your expression became offended.

"Are you really doing this?"

"What?" he said, clearing his throat, and all he got from you was a shake of your head and your averted gaze, which meant in a more than explicit way that you were upset.

"Nothing, Bucky." Your voice came out controlled, and from then on, you refused to look at him. He was doing the same thing he did a month before breaking up with you: completely excluding you from important information, from what he was doing, where he was going, with whom he was going. And now he was here, inside your house, once again doing the same bullshit and telling others to shut up about any information.You felt stupid.

"Are you spending the night? Or is this information I'm not supposed to know in my own home?" Your voice this time came out acidic at the end as you glanced at Bucky, who wet his lips, regretful. He didn't want to make you feel bad or excluded, but he didn't want you to get involved because once you did, you would go all the way. Tony was like that, just as you inherited that from him.

"I don't know if we should..." Yelena said, and your gaze returned to him, regretful. You were losing control, and that's what Bucky did to your feelings: he drove you crazy. Love, desire, anger. Because in the end, it was always him who circled your heart.

"No. I'm sorry, I'm being a terrible host. I have four bedrooms upstairs; you can have mine, and I'll make up the other beds. Please, make yourselves at home." You left the kitchen and gasped as if you hadn't breathed in a long time, but then you remembered it was just the damn anxiety.

"Want me to call Pepper?" Friday chimed in above you, and you grumbled a low "no" as you quickly went upstairs.

"You're forgetting to breathe, Y/n," she warned as you entered your room and leaned against the wall. Back against the cold wall, your eyes closed, and your head tilted back.

"Do you need me to start the meditation..." You then rudely cut her off, afraid that some of the people downstairs would hear anything.

"No! Be quiet, please!" you said through clenched teeth, closing your eyes in your own anguish. The room was silent, but your head was racing, screaming a thousand words at once.While you were upstairs, Bucky had gotten up and put his plate in the dishwasher, listening to the group at the table arguing.

"Hey, Bucky. What happened between you two?" Yelena asked, and Bucky remained with his back to them.

"Yeah, you two were inseparable. Like, his protected girlfriend," John said, and Bucky shook his head, still not looking at them.

"It's none of your business."

"Looks like you guys have problems. If you're dating, you'd better go after her," Ava concluded, and Bucky closed his eyes tightly.

"She's not my girlfriend," he said firmly, scoffing and leaving the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Yelena asked.

"After her."

When Bucky left the kitchen, the group let out a light laugh, shaking their heads. Who would have thought that Congressman Bucky Barnes was having relationship problems with someone as lovely as you.

"Y/n, you're holding your breath again. That's not the healthiest way to do this." Friday's voice echoed above you, and you clenched your jaw tighter than you thought possible.Your head was spinning, and you were just trying to find the silence of darkness, but then you felt his warmth on you, and you thought your mind was playing tricks, trying to find a way to comfort you. But when you heard his voice calling your name, your eyes opened, filled with tears that burned your heart.

"Hey," he called you, both hands around your face while you stood there looking ridiculous in front of him. That's what you thought.

"Hey," your voice failed in a whisper, and Bucky caressed your skin as he had the last time he had the right to do so.

"Breathe, doll," he instructed you, and almost immediately you slipped from his hands and turned your back to him. With wide eyes, you blinked hard and wiped away the thick tear that streamed down your cheek.

"Is everything okay downstairs?" You swallowed the knot in your throat and sniffed softly as you picked up fluffy, warm comforters. It was a cold night; your apartment had heating, but even so, you didn't want anyone to be cold, even if they were all heroes and stuff.

"Is everything okay up here?" he asked, and you turned to him without looking him in the eyes, but he knew. He knew you.

"Mhm," you murmured as you left your room, leaving Bucky there staring at the bed he once also slept in, with you beside him.With a pang in his chest, Bucky walked to the other bedroom, and standing in the doorway, he stared at you as if you were the center of the world. And you were, or at least you were his.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, and you stiffened your spine.

"It's okay. You don't have to explain anything to me if you don't want to."

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"Then you shouldn't have come here." Silence remained thick between you, and Bucky took a step closer to you, gently grabbing your forearm and making you look at him.

"I shouldn't have," he agreed and watched you swallow hard. "But you're the only thing in this whole world that seems to stick to me like something magnetic."

"Must be the arm," you joked, pointing softly to his arm, making Bucky smile gently at you.

"I can help you guys. Let me help you. One last time," you pleaded, looking him in the face, and Bucky sighed, giving in to you.

"Bob was one of the survivors of Project Sentinel."

"I thought everyone died."

"I guess everyone thought so, doll. They took him, and... I don't know, now I'm helping them save the guy who was taken by O.X.E."

"They probably took him to the O.X.E. building."

"Right, I think so too. But they're on top of us. Going in quietly would be the best move."

"Hey, silly," you called with a half-smile, "I have the building blueprints in my dad's old files. That was Stark Tower. I know every corner of that place. Come here."

"You don't have to get involved, doll."

"Buck, let me," you asked in a soft voice.Opening the holographic table, you pulled up the files and opened the building's blueprint, scanning each floor with your eyes.

"Right here. You can enter through the bottom, through the convenience store across the street," you said, pointing.

"What's that?" Alexei asked, abruptly breaking the silence and drawing the rest of the group over.

"Looks like we found a way in," Bucky stated, and you simply nodded.

"Valentina shouldn't know about this. If she does... you'd better be in shape."

"Y/n?" Friday called you, and Alexei looked at the ceiling suspiciously.

"What the hell is that?"

"Dad," Yelena admonished him, and he continued."Fancy stuff."

"Yeah, maybe." You laughed and replied to Friday, "Yes?"

"Morgan is calling you."

"Morgan?"

"Should I answer?"

"Why is she calling me?"

"I think that's why you answer the phone," John said, receiving a dirty look from you.

"There's a bathroom upstairs in each room; if you want, you can go clean up," you instructed while picking up the phone and answering Morgan on the other end of the line.

"Hey, Moggy. Are you okay?"

"You're not going to believe this! Mommy said she's thinking of letting me have a dog!" she shouted from the other end of the line, and you laughed.

"Wow. Really? I never got to have one. What was your magic?"

"I said I would take care of him like you and Bucky give Alpine love. And that it would make me start to be a more loving person to the world. Do you think I could name him James?"

Your heart almost exploded upon hearing the words in that sentence, and almost immediately your gaze fell on Bucky, who was looking at you worriedly with Alpine in his arms, purring the way she only did when Bucky caressed her."James?" He then looked at you intently as if you were alerting him to something.

"Why James?"

"Because I miss Bucky, and you told me his first name is James. Oh, Alpine is making those different noises again. Is Bucky back from his trip?"

Bucky and Morgan had become very close; he had grown fond of her in a way you didn't want her to, which is why you didn't have the heart to tell her you broke up, even though you knew it was just lying to everyone.

"Yes, dear, he's back, but only for a few hours; he'll have to leave soon." She let out a disappointed "oh" that quickly faded.

"Can I talk to him? Pretty please."

"What are you doing home now?"

"I'm sick. Mommy picked me up early and said I could call you."

"You're sick? I talked to you yesterday."

"My tummy hurts. Can I talk to Bucky, please?" she whined, and you looked at him, swallowing hard, unsure how to ask.

"Okay," you whispered, and she shrieked with happiness on the other end of the line.

"Bucky?" You called him, and he looked at you again.

"Yeah?"

"Morgan wants to talk to you. Could you... just for a few minutes?"

"Of course." He put Alpine down in a second and took the extended phone faster than you expected him to.

"Hi, little spy," he said in the most loving voice possible, and your chest swelled. How was it possible for someone like him to exist?

"How was your trip?" she asked from the other end of the line, and Bucky frowned, looking at you confused. Trip?

"Good... but not very fun."

"Good. It's obvious, sweetie, I wasn't there and neither was Y/n," she joked, and Bucky smiled faintly, still watching you, becoming uncomfortable and turning your back to the living room window.

"Are you okay?"

"I miss you. Which sucks because you're going to travel again and you won't see me."

"I can come back earlier this time."

"REALLY?"

"Yeah."

"Great, because now that I can have a dog and I asked Mommy if I could name him James, she told me I'd need to ask Y/n, but since she didn't answer me and you're there, can I?"

"James?"

"Yeah, like you. But he'll be a dog."

"Of course, you can do that. I'd be honored."

"COOL! It's like having two best friend twins. Alright, bye, Buck."

The call ended, and Bucky's gaze remained fixed on you, who shifted uncomfortably and looked at him, understanding that they had stopped talking.

Best friends, the little one called him best friend and wasn't afraid of him.

"She's happy. Because of the dog," he cleared his throat, and you nodded, taking your phone back.

"She chose your name. That's cute." You smiled softly and nodded, falling back into yourself as you realized you were going to very dark places.

"If you don't want to sleep on the couch, you'd better try to grab a bed," you warned, but he remained standing, staring at you as if you were more important than anything. Which you knew he didn't care about, because Bucky initially slept on the floor, afraid of hurting you.

"And you?"

"Don't worry about it. I had things to do anyway," you mumbled, and Bucky continued to stare at you.

"What?"

"It's late. Do you still have things to do?" You just shrugged, but then Bucky suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you off the ground.

"Bucky! What the hell is this?"

"You love your rest time; you're not going to be busting your butt working because you want to be stubborn."

"I'm not being stubborn," you retorted, and he threw you onto the couch as if you weighed nothing.

"You can't do that."

"You're overwhelmed. You can't do this." He crossed his arms, and a frown appeared on his face."Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Acting like you know me."

"I do know you," Bucky argued, and you stood up again.

"No. You left me crying on the floor of this apartment two months ago, and now I'm a completely different person." Your finger pointed at his chest, and you saw Bucky's shoulders slump.

"Doll."

"Don't call me that! It's fine for you all to stay here, but you can't touch me and act like we're in the middle of something good." Your eyes welled up, and a glimpse of pain crossed Bucky's face.

"Alright. You're right. I'm sorry."

"And I'm going with you tomorrow, whether you want it or not." You said then left him downstairs as you climbed the steps and stopped in front of your bedroom door. Yelena, more than happy, told you to join her.

..............................................................................................

mehhh, bad ending but part two already on my profile

[ariestrxsh]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🍷content warning: smut, innocence corruption, praise, mommy kink, thigh riding, oral (m!receiving), glasses kink, loss of virginity, sub!virgin!matt, dom!reader, friends to lovers

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🍷summary: you and matt are best friends and share everything with one another - except for what you each sound like in bed - that is, until now.

this fic was requested/inspired by this ask 💋

never lose me

"I have a question," you told your best friend Matt over dinner, leaning in closer to him and peeking up at him before you took a big bite of your pasta. You'd invited him out to celebrate a promotion you'd gotten at work, and you also wanted to ask for boy advice.

"What's up?" He asked, tearing off a piece of garlic bread and popping it into his mouth. He pushed up the bridge of his glasses as he made eye contact with you. "When you're having sex with a girl, does it bother you when she's loud?" You giggled, kind of embarrassed to ask.

"Why would that bother me?" Matt asked, his blue eyes darting around while he thought about how to answer your questions without confessing to you that he was a virgin. "I don't know. It's just this new guy I've been casually seeing. He's like, really quiet in bed. Almost makes me feel weird for being as loud as I am," you admitted.

He nodded to let you know he was listening, but behind his glazed over stare, he was thoroughly imagining all the naughty words you'd say and all the ways you'd scream whilst in the throes of ecstasy.

"He doesn't say much. He doesn't moan very much. I can't tell if I'm not satisfying him or if he's just shy," you confided in him, smoothing out your crimson dress that hugged your curves so snugly. "Well, have you tried asking him?" Matt timidly responded, studying the way your pretty red lipstick looked.

"Well, kind of. I mean, when I'm giving him head or stroking it for him, I'll ask, 'Do you like that, baby?'" You said in a seductive tone. Matt found it difficult to look you in the eye as he felt blood rushing to his appendage below his waist at the tone of voice you used. He took his napkin and subtly placed it on his lap to hide his growing erection.

"Mhmm," Matt nodded, halfway reassuring you that he was listening and halfway answering the question you'd just asked. "And he'll say it just like that, 'mhmm,' but even the way you said it sounded more convincing than when he says it. I just feel like he's not into it."

You took a sip of your red wine, your third glass of the night, leaving a lipstick print behind on the glassware. "Well, he's probably just nervous. I can't imagine he wouldn't like it when you.. do that stuff to him," Matt struggled to get out, twisting his ring like he always did when he was thinking about something.

"Are you shy in bed? I get the feeling you want to be loud, but you hold back," you lowered your volume, smirking at him. "That's none of your business!" He widened his eyes and smiled at you while he blushed. "See? You're already getting all shy on me," you laughed, taking another drink.

He nibbled on his lip and fiddled with his ring some more, and you noticed it had been a while since he touched his food. "Matty, are you okay? I didn't mean to get too personal with you or anything. I just get curious about what you're like in bed sometimes," you chuckled, reaching over and brushing your thumb against the back of Matt's hand.

Matt's gaze flickered up at yours and he raised his eyebrows in a surprised expression. "What!? You don't ever think about that kind of thing?" You replied, your cheeks turning pink. "I mean, of course I do," he laughed, hiding his face behind his hands.

"Why don't you satisfy my curiosity then and tell me how you sound?" You playfully flirted with him, slipping off your high heel and running your foot up Matt's pant leg, which turned Matt on even more. "Listen. I would have told you by now if I knew," Matt timidly replied, looking up at you for your reaction. "What do you mean?" You asked, gathering and twisting your noodles with your fork.

"I mean, I've never had sex," Matt said quietly, bracing for your reaction. He knew you weren't the type to tease him about it, but he was just so used to it by now that he was already prepared for it. You accidentally lost your grip on your fork and it fell against your plate with a loud clatter as you peered up at him once more.

"Never?" You asked with a bit of pity resounding in your voice. "Never," he innocently shook his head. "But surely you've done other stuff," you insinuated, picking your fork back up and picking at your food. "Nope," Matt softly answered, picking up his glass of water. "Why not, Matty? There's no way you haven't had any offers," you answered.

You knew Matt never talked about his sex life with you, but you always assumed it was just because he was being a gentleman and respecting the privacy of his sexual partners. It's not like Matt wasn't good-looking, and even though he was a bit dorky, you always found that endearing about him.

"I mean, girls are interested in me, and I can usually tell when they are, but all the girls who have ever been interested are so indirect, and all they do is drop hints like they want me to make the first move. I'm just not really into that. I want a woman who pursues me for once," Matt shrugged, adjusting his glasses again.

"So, you're saving your virginity for a dominatrix?" You raised an eyebrow at him, teasing him and giving him a sly smirk. You watched as Matt got all flustered and started running his fingers through his brown hair. "Well, I wouldn't word it like that. I just want a woman who's in charge and knows what she wants," Matt replied, blushing.

"Yeah? You want her to boss you around a little in bed, baby?" You cooed through your seductive smile. Matt rolled his eyes and let out a nervous giggle, but he neither confirmed nor denied your allegation.

You knew that your friendship with Matt was unconventional. You guys often did things together and talked about topics that most people would consider to be inappropriate for friends to engage in, but neither one of you minded how close you were. After all, you were just friends.

The waitress approached your table, offered you some boxes to take the rest of your food to go, and dropped off the check. Matt started to reach for his wallet, but you stopped him. "No, no, no. I invited you out, baby. I'll pay for your dinner," you grinned at him, reaching for your purse.

"Twisted my arm," Matt jokingly scoffed at you and acted like it was the biggest inconvenience to put his wallet back into his pocket, but he secretly loved that you always insisted on covering his bill. After you'd paid and left a generous tip, you went to get up from your chair.

"You ready, Matt?" You asked, standing up and grabbing your purse and your coat. "Uh, wait. You think we could sit here for a few more minutes?" Matt latched onto your arm, stopping you from leaving the table. There was an urgency in his voice.

"Yeah, of course. Why? What's up?" You tilted your head at him and softly caressed his face. "Please. You're gonna make it worse. Need just a few minutes. That's all," he said, batting your hand away. Your eyes traveled to the napkin placed over his lap, and you picked up on what the problem was.

"Oh, don't worry. We'll wait here until it goes away," you smirked at Matt, biting your lip. He blushed and let out a nervous laugh at how easily turned on he was, but you secretly loved it.

Once Matt's hard on had subsided, the two of you made your way back out into the parking lot, your red heels clicking against the pavement beneath you. You threw your arm around his shoulder, steadying yourself on him and towering over him. He reciprocated your gesture, hooking his arm around your waist.

"So, do you really think about what I sound like in bed?" He teased you, unable to let go of that tidbit of information you'd shared earlier. "Oh, from time to time," you snickered. You pulled your keys out of your bag and went to unlock your car, but Matt reached for them. "Hey, how about I drive? You've had a few drinks."

"Yeah, just a few," you rolled your eyes, holding your keys out of his reach. "Come on. I know that you're careful. But what if someone else causes an accident? Then you'd automatically be at fault because you had three glasses of wine tonight," Matt looked at you with his big, blue eyes.

He knew you were stubborn, but he always knew how to reason with you. "Fine," you smiled at him, handing him your keys and hopping into the passenger seat.

Matt started up your car, tilted the rearview mirror down, and moved the seat forward a bit to adjust to how much shorter he was than you. "It's so weird seeing you in the driver's seat. You're always my passenger princess," you teased him, connecting your phone to bluetooth and throwing on one of your playlists. He playfully side-eyed you as you serenaded him from the passenger seat.

When he pulled up to your house, he lowered the volume on your car speakers. "Hey, you mind if I crash here tonight? I kind of didn't think about the fact that I don't have a ride home unless I take your car," he innocently asked, giving you his puppy dog eyes.

"Of course you can stay here, Matt. You're always welcome to stay the night with me," you ran your thumb over the back of his hand again, a gesture you did often because you knew how much Matt valued physical touch. You stepped out of your car and grabbed your purse and your coat, slinging both over your shoulder. Matt, who still had your keys, unlocked your front door, letting the two of you inside.

You steadied yourself using Matt's shoulder as you stepped out of your heels, one foot at a time, still towering over the boy by a few inches. "You know, Matt. I don't think you should be self-conscious about being a virgin. I think it's really hot," you giggled into his ear, unable to stop thinking about how pure and innocent he was.

"Well, I was never insecure about it until people laughed at me when I told them," Matt responded, looking down and pushing up his glasses. "That's because other people are insecure and convinced that everything is a race. Don't worry about them," you drunkenly responded. "Thanks for saying that," Matt shrugged and gave you a smile.

"Come up to my room with me, Matty," you cooed, running your stiletto nails through his hair. He glanced up at you with a submissive expression and nodded, following you up the stairs. His gaze landed on your legs, and he silently appreciated every curve as you led him up to your bed in a calculated manner.

"I wanna shower before bed. Will you help me with my zipper?" You asked him once the two of you were standing in your master bedroom outside your bathroom. "Sure," Matt replied, feeling the tension in the air as you spun around, peeking over your shoulder.

He took the zipper between his two shaky fingers and slowly pulled it down, revealing your back to him. "Come hang out with me while I shower so I don't get bored?" You invited him in, batting your lashes in his direction. "Yeah," he replied in a soft tone.

You turned the dial on your tub and began running the water while you grabbed your makeup wipes and started washing the lipstick from your mouth. Matt sat on the edge of your bathroom counter, watching you remove the pigmented color from your face.

"Matty, I know you don't know what you sound like during sex, but indulge me for a second. How do you sound when you touch yourself?" You softly asked him, looking into his blue eyes. His cheeks started to turn bring red, and his face grew warm. "Um, I guess I'm not super loud, but I make some noise, and I definitely have to try to stay quiet," Matt disclosed to you.

"Yeah? I bet you whimper," you smirked at Matt. "Why are you thinking about that?" Matt wondered, teasing you and purposely ignoring your accusation. "Just a little curious. That's all," you seductively replied, still buzzing from the wine. "Well, just for the record, I think I would like it if a girl were loud in bed," Matt smirked at you. "Oh, really?" You asked, licking your lips. "Mhmm," he quietly answered you.

"No peeking," you ordered Matt as you started to slip out of your dress. He covered his eyes and shut them until you'd disappeared behind the shower curtain. "You can look now," you said to Matt as you tilted your head back, allowing the hot water to drench your hair.

He let his eyes adjust back to the bathroom lighting, and he watched as the steam in the air began to fill the space in front of him. He took off his glasses, wiping the condensation that was in the air from them before placing them back on his face.

"Thank you for driving me home and for being such good company," you thanked Matt from the other side of the curtain. "That's what friends are for," he responded, but the word friends started to lose its meaning and began to seem more like a strange sound than an actual term the longer it tumbled around in Matt's head.

"So this guy you've been seeing," Matt started off with a twinge of jealousy in his voice. "What about him?" You peeked your head out from behind the curtain with shampoo in your hair. "Do you think you'll end up dating him?" Matt asked, his eyes flickering up at you from his ring he was fidgeting with again.

"I don't know. I don't want to sound superficial, but the fact that he's so quiet during sex and doesn't give me any reassurance that I'm doing a good job is kind of a dealbreaker. It really kills the mood for me," you admitted, removing your detachable shower head and rinsing out your hair with it.

"What kinds of things would you want him to say?" Matt casually wondered out loud. "It's kind of embarrassing," you started to say, scrubbing your body. "You can tell me. I won't laugh," Matt assured you. "Well, I'd want him to moan really loud for me and not hold back," you started to say, letting your imagination take over.

"I'd want him to tell me how good I'm making him feel," you said, your hand dipping between your legs and softly running it along your folds while you pictured it was Matt under your control, saying this all to you.

"I'd want him to say something like, 'just like that mommy' when I'm doing something with my tongue that he really likes," you hissed through your teeth as you spread your lips open with two fingers, letting the warm water from the shower head hit your most sensitive place.

Matt quietly listened, his lips falling slightly open and his eyes subtly widening as he pictured you doing unspeakable things. His erection started to strain against his pants.

"And I'd want him to tell me when I'm about to make him cum," you said right before an obvious whimper escaped your lips as you kept the shower head pointed at your clit. Matt started to giggle. "Hey, you said you wouldn't laugh," you peeked out from behind the shower curtain, giving Matt a pouty face.

"I'm sorry. I'm not laughing because I think it's funny or anything. I just laugh when I'm nervous," Matt replied, sighing and fidgeting with his hair. "Awh. Do I make you nervous, baby?" You cooed, and Matt blushed and nervously chuckled in response.

"Another reason he and I probably won't ever date is that he doesn't really like how close we are," you admitted to Matt. "You and me?" He asked, sounding surprised. "Mhmm," you hummed from the shower. "He knows we're just friends, right?" Matt asked, unfogging his glasses once more.

"Yeah, but he thinks something's going on between us," you replied, shutting off the water after you'd rinse all your bodywash off of you. Matt was caught off-guard by this, but the more he silently mulled over the dynamic the two of you shared, the more he realized how often the two of you toed of the line of being just friends and being more than friends.

"Well, he doesn't have anything to worry about. I'm a virgin," he laughed and shrugged, putting his glasses back on. He watched as you leaned out of the shower to grab your towel, exposing your breast to him while you held eye contact and smirked when you watched his gaze drop to your chest.

"I'm sure you'll lose your virginity before you know it," you responded, wrapping the towel around yourself and stepping out of the shower. "You think so?" Matt asked, chewing on his lip. "I know so. There's no way a cute little submissive thing like you isn't going to draw in the attention of a girl who's bold enough to make a move," you cooed, licking your lips as your eye caught a glimpse of his hard on. "I hope so," he whispered.

You sauntered off into your room, and Matt followed behind like a lost puppy dog. You dropped your towel and started changing in front of him, and in an attempt to be as respectful as possible, he turned his gaze away from you.

"I'm gonna go get set up in the guestroom, and I'll see you in the morning," Matt told you, getting ready to leave the room as you slipped into a pair of underwear and a tank top. "Oh, come on, Matty. Stay. What's the fun of a sleepover if we don't get to hang out all night until we fall asleep in the same bed like we always do?" You asked, pouting at him.

He slowly nodded, sitting on the edge of your bed. "You don't mind if I sleep in just this, do you?" You wondered, presenting your pretty, black lace panties and black camisole. "I don't mind," Matt answered, staring at you in awe.

You dried off your hair and started brushing through it, and after a few more moments of silence, you brought up the original topic of discussion, the same one you and Matt had been dancing around and circling back to all night.

"Could I actually just show you how loud I am?" You shifted your eyes up at Matt as you caught your lip between your teeth. "Show me how loud you are?" He naively wondered. "How loud I can get during sex? I really feel self-conscious about it, and I need your opinion," you batted your lashes again. "Uh, sure. Why not?" Matt said, trying to keep his cool. "This is purely for science," you raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded.

He felt like he was in a dream, watching as you put each of your legs on either side of his knee. You lowered your weight down onto it until your clothed pussy was resting right on his thigh, the increase in pressure creating a wonderful sensation for you. He could feel your heat and the soft thump thump of your throbbing clit through your panties. You leaned in and locked your soft lips onto his.

It wasn't the first kiss you'd shared. You'd kissed each other a handful of times when you were younger, under the guise that you were just practicing, but this was definitely the most passionate one.

His whole body started buzzing as your tongue begged for entrance, swirling around in his mouth. He could taste the red wine on your breath. You let out a loud moan against Matt's lips as you started rocking back and forth on his leg.

He immediately felt the fabric of his jeans strain against his hard cock as he studied the way your lips fell open and your eyes fell shut once you'd pulled back from the kiss. "Oh, Matt," the words escaped your lips loudly as you picked up the pace. He loved hearing you say his name in such an intimate manner and seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

Your hands made their way to Matt's chest, curling your fingers and latching onto the his jacket as you rode his thigh, and you slowly started to push the fabric off over his shoulders. Your involuntary sensual sounds filled the room, and you started grinding on his knee a little harder.

Matt held his breath as you reached for the bulge in his jeans and started palming it through the denim. "Oh," he quietly whimpered at your touch.

He could feel how wet you were getting, rhythmically rolling your hips forward as you humped his thigh. Your moans resounded, reaching their crescendo as you fell apart on Matt's knee. "That's it. Gonna cum," you cried out.

You held him in an embrace as you finished, falling limp against him and nearly screaming in his ear. He wrapped his arms around your waist to steady you, your wet hair tickling his forearms and your chest pressing against his cheek as it rose and fell while you caught your breath. You were both blushing.

"Did you think I was too loud?" You quietly whispered just above his ear. "You were loud, but I liked it a lot," Matt said after a short pause. You let out a laugh. Matt's cock was aching. "Oops. Sorry about the mess," you mumbled as you climbed off his knee, revealing a wet spot you'd left behind on his jeans. "I don't mind," he replied quietly, staring up at you.

Maybe the two of you were too close, and maybe it was inappropriate to grind on your best friend's thigh, but why stop now? His breath hitched in his throat as you descended to a kneeling position in front of him. "Now it's your turn," you seductively relayed, your fingers crawling across his lap, making their way to his zipper.

"My turn? For what?" Matt naively asked, wide-eyed. "To show me how you sound in bed. Please, Matty. I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight unless I know," you pouted at him, undoing the button on his jeans. "Wait. What if this complicates our friendship?" Matt wondered out loud. "Oh, come on, Matty. We're basically already dating. We do everything a couple would do except have sex. Maybe it'll actually make things less complicated," you smirked at him.

Deep down, he knew you might be right. "O-okay," Matt stammered, peering down at the way the teeth of his zipper came undone between your fingers. He went to take off his glasses, but you stopped him. "Matty, please. Keep them on," you requested, and he nodded.

You gave him a lustful and devious expression as you pulled his pants down just enough to access his throbbing dick. He lifted his hips as he looked into your hypnotic eyes. You reveled in the fact that you were going to be the first to make him make those sounds that were about to pour from his mouth. You reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock, mesmerized by the sight.

His tip was the same shade as his parted lips, and it was shiny with pre-cum already. You started to curl your fingers around its thickness and gently stroke it up and down. "Look at that," you gasped while you observed more clear liquid drool out of it, admiring how sensitive it was. Matt softly whimpered as it quivered in your hand.

You ran your palm up his shaft, grazing the head and spreading the fluid around, using it as lubricant while you pumped it back and forth. He let out a soft whine as you stimulated him. "Good boy," you praised him in a low, seductive tone.

He started gently bucking his hips up, driving his sensitive dick further into your hand while he let out a few stifled moans. "Don't hold back, baby," you cooed, picking up speed. "Mmm. It feels so good, mommy," he cried out, sending blood straight to your clit.

"That's it. Let me hear you," you responded, slowly closing the distance between his aggravated tip and your soothing lips, latching onto his most sensitive nerve endings. He gasped at the sensation. It was impossible for him to stay quiet.

Fervent noises filled the room while he watched as you made the head disappear behind your lips, then his shaft, and then you slid all the way down until your nose was pressed up against his lower tummy. "Yes, yes, yes," he whimpered, holding your wet hair out of your face.

You loved how responsive and interactive he was, doing everything you would have wanted a boy to do while giving him head. You bobbed your head up and down a few times, coaxing more pleasant sounds from Matt while he savored the soft, wet, warm feeling of your mouth.

You slid all the way down on his shaft again until the tip was in your throat, this time holding still while you hummed against his dick. "Please. Please keep going," Matt begged, trying to buck hip hips again, but you held them down, keeping him from being able to move. You were driving him crazy.

"Mommy, please move your mouth. I'll do anything," he implored, his voice cracking with desperation. You teased him, moving your head up and down but just slightly and at a painfully slow pace. "Faster, mommy," he begged you.

After a few more minutes of his pleading, you finally gave in, sloppily drooling all over his cock while you moved in a steady, calculated rhythm, stimulating every nerve ending on his rod while he inched closer to the finish line. "Feels so good. Gonna make such a mess for you, mommy," Matt desperately whined.

The words leaving his mouth suddenly had you aware of how empty you were feeling between your legs.

You moved back up his length with your mouth, but this time, when you reached the tip, you slipped it out of your mouth and smirked up at Matt. "Please. No. Why'd you stop?" He wondered, sounding distressed by the way his pleasure came to an end suddenly before he was done.

You stood up. "Be a good boy and wait," you responded lustfully, dropping your panties and pulling off your top. Matt fell silent as he admired your body, his eyes following every curve.

The shape of your body drew in his stare to your most intimate parts, the way your thighs came together in a v shape, practically directing his eyes towards your pussy. His eyes wandered up towards your breasts that he'd only ever seen for seconds at a time when you'd changed in front of him.

"Be a good boy and let mommy cum one more time, and then it'll be your turn. Got it?" You asked, slowly stepping towards him again. "Anything you want, mommy," he obediently nodded.

You climbed on top of him, straddling his lap, taking his dick into your grip and guiding it towards your hole. "Oh my god," Matt gutturally moaned with his eyes rolling back as you slowly descended onto him, taking it inch by inch. He couldn't believe you were taking his virginity.

"Don't you dare cum yet," you smirked at him as you lowered all the way down and started bouncing on his cock. He nodded at you with his glazed over eyes and his jaw hanging open as you picked up speed, your tits bouncing in his face while he admired them.

You started rubbing your clit while you rode Matt, and more urgent whimpers poured from both of your lips. "How's it feel, Matty?" You cooed. "Best feeling ever," he moaned, peering into your eyes. "You're so big. You fill me up so good!" You exclaimed as his dick rutted into your g-spot. He swooned at your compliment, placing both his hands on your waist.

You rocked your hips forward, your pussy gliding up and down his length, and you felt your legs behind to shake. You could feel Matt's dick throbbing in your hole as he whimpered for you and looked up at you with his most desperate expression, which sent you past the point of no return.

Your pussy spasmed around his sensitive cock, and he could feel every contraction as you called out his name loudly over and over. You rubbed your clit in tighter, faster circles. He felt your whole body tighten while you shook and loudly squealed as you finished onto him, leaving behind the milky evidence of how much fun you'd had leaking down his shaft.

"Please," he begged, staring down at the mess you made on his cock and knowing he'd done that to you had him right on the edge of his climax. "Please what, baby?" You bit your lip, still riding him. "Please, mommy. Don't stop. Need a warm place to cum inside," he cried out.

"Of course, baby. Of course you can cum inside," you assured him, cradling his head and pushing your breasts into his face. Your rose-scented bodywash filled his senses. He peered up at you with his pretty blue eyes that were filled with lust and desire. His eyebrows were furrowed together in an expression of sheer pleasure.

Goosebumps arose all over his flesh as an orgasmic rush coursed through his body. He whimpered fervently against your chest, his cock twitching and draining inside of you. You loved watching him come undone underneath you. You continued to bounce up and down on his dick until he started hissing through his teeth about how sensitive it was.

You brought your movements to a stop, tilted Matt's chin up with your hand, and kissed him while he was still inside of you. He looked up at you wide-eyed and panting. "Wow, I never knew sex could be that intense," he innocently shook his head. "I made you feel good, didn't I?" You asked, nibbling on your lip. "So good," he replied, pushing up his glasses.

"That was so hot. I knew you'd be a whimperer."

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[siddyyyyyyyy]

Friendly Neighbourhood

Jason Todd x Reader

wc: 3.5 K summary: Befriending his neighbour gets out of hand. warnings: fluff, no y/n used, injuries from Gotham activities a/n: got this idea while doing my groceries. also decided to change up my theme a bit! enjoy! divider: @kodaswrld

You barely manage to lift out the two heavy grocery bags out of the back of your car, setting them down at your feet. With a heavy sigh, you fish out your keys and struggle to pick the bags up again, cursing under your breath.

»Need help with that?« You jump up at the deep voice behind you, looking to your right before you spot a similar man, close to your age.

»Uh...«

Jason can see the way your wheels are turning in your head, trying to figure out who he is while also thinking over his suggestion. Finally, he decides to help you out. »Jason… Todd. I live next door to you, if you noticed.«

He shrugs and fidgets with his hands inside his jacket pockets, already regretting it. But luckily, you simply light up and nod, glancing down at your bags again.

»Oh, right! No, I know, just needed a moment. Also, I‘d greatly appreciate your help.« Finally a normal person. No, finally a person that isn‘t actively trying to make your life worse. Without another word, the taller man picks the bags up and gets going to the front door of the apartment complex. You unlock the door and let him walk in first, taking notice of his broad back, still mesmerised, even when he‘s wearing a dark leather jacket. At the front of your door, you catch your breath after walking up four stories worth of stairs, needing a moment to compose yourself fully. Jason, however, doesn‘t seem to too exhausted and simply waits for you to open the door.

»Should I put them inside or just leave it here?« He feels rather awkward in this situation but refuses to show it or let himself cringe at his words, wanting to come off as friendly and nice.

»You can put it here, it‘s fine. Thanks, again.« Jason smiles lightly in return and steps back to his apartment door the opposite of yours, stepping in after unlocking it.

Inside, you stash away your groceries and take a small break, eventually slapping yourself for being so awkward with him. How did you not recognise him earlier, by your car? He is your neighbour! As a form of an apology, you settle into your kitchen and start making some baked goods, focusing on making the best cookies and bread you can muster.

After some hours, perfecting your cookies with sprinkles, and carefully wrapping the fresh loaf of bread into a pretty paper, his gift is ready. You put the sweet cookies into a tupperware, wrapping a light lace around it with a bow. Finally satisfied, you take your last wits and step out into the hallway, ringing his doorbell. To say that you‘re nervous puts it pretty well, your palms sweating lightly as you hold the baked good in yours arms. Jason answers his door, not having expected to see you again so soon again. Immediately, he straightens his posture and clears his throat, hoping he doesn‘t look like a mess right now.

»Hey, I just wanted to drop by some sweets after you helped me earlier… thanks again.«

You smile sweetly at him and hold out the loaf of bread with the box of cookies, overwhelming him. Although he doesn‘t see, surprised or shocked, he feels like his legs might give out under him.

»Oh— thanks. You didn‘t need to do all that, though.«

Jason takes the small box and craddles the lkoaf of bread into his arms, noticing how warm it is. You simply smile back, standing there for a moment longer before you awkardly say goodbye. From that moment on, Jason made sure to see you more often during the week and hopefully help you more with mundane stuff like getting your groceries into your apartment.

◐

In general, you didn‘t see Jason often. There were a few occasions you can remember seeing him, and it was extremly underwhelming. Once, you entered the basement with the on laundry day at the same time as him and he left immediately after you entered. You didn‘t think much of it, glad about the fact that you didn‘t have to worry about someone seeing your underwear. Another time was when you parked your car near the building and saw him getting off his bike before walking into the apartment complex before you. Thinking of it, that was approximately a week ago, if not less. Wait, he rides a bike? Maybe you should definitely try to see him more during the day, maybe he isn‘t that bad of a neighbour.

Even though you normally went into the laundry room in the mornnig to avoid people, you just couldn‘t bring it over yourself to get up a few minutes earlier than normally for that. But considering that it‘s rather late in the night, there‘s probably no one in there. Picking out the dirty clothes that need a wash, you walk downstairs into the shared basement and open the heavy door with your back, since your hands are busy with the heavy basket. Walking in, you didn‘t expect to see the same person you were thinking about earlier in the day. With an awkward smile, you pick a free mashine machine and mind your own business. Jason seems to be almost finished with his laundry, throwing in the last piece urgently. He nodded back at your smile, turning his broad back to you as he messes with the settings of the machine.

In the meantime, you throw in your clothes into the free machine, being composed, although you hope that he doesn‘t notice the light tremors in your hands. Why are you so nervous? It‘s not like you two talked more than three words together. Before you could overthink the situation, he leaves the room with a final glance over his shoulder until the room falls into yet another silence. The sounds of his washine machine going off is the only thing that keeps your mind in this reality. Finishing up your task, you can‘t help but be curious. With careful steps, you peer a little into the machine that washes his clothes, only noticing some flashes of red in between the black clothes. Without trying to be creepy, you casually make your way back into your apartment, forgetting about the previous interaction.

◐

Another week, another grocery haul. Exiting out of your car, you manage to put the two heavy bags onto the concrete before you fish out for your keys. This will probably take two trips, silently wishing that you magically grew a pair of biceps like your friendly neighbour has. Sadly, it doesn‘t happen, even after staring at the two grocery bags. With a final sigh, you pick up one of them and don‘t notice the man beside you until you lift your head up. From the surprise, you jump up and let go of your bag, a small gasp leaving you.

»Oh— so sorry, didn‘t mean it! You need help with that?« The black haired man seems just as surprised as you, seemingly guilty for scaring you.

But once again, your brain needs a second to catch up on the situation. Luckily, you nod and smile, rather amused. Either amused at the scare or his guilty expression.

»I was actually waiting for you to appear, so yes. Thanks.«

With a faint smile, Jason picks both bags into his hands and lets you lead the way to your apartment, as if he didn‘t know better. On the way up, he does his best to cover up the light sweat as he carries those groceries for you.

»Jeez, what do you have in there? A ton of bricks for a house?« He blurts out, his voice lightly out of breath. You can‘t help but chuckle at his comment, although you start to feel bad for him. »Stuff someone needs to survive during a week.«

You shrug in response and unlocks your door, not as exhausted as him. He sets the bags down by the door of your apartment, before he slips back into his own home, giving you a smile and a polite goodbye. After sorting through your ingredients, you can‘t help but think about the interaction for the rest of the day, hoping this will happen more often… without the scare.

Unlike last week, you simply bring him an easy recipe for cookies that he gladly takes and studies for the rest of the evening.

◐

Would it be weird for a neighbour to bring over cookies randomly? It was out of your recipe anyways, so you must like it, right? Judging from the last two times, it should be socially accepted to gift your neighbour something to show gratefulness.

Finally, Jason knocks at your door and tries not to fidget with the plastic bag in his hands, filled with cookies that he couldn‘t finish up. Unfortunately for him, the he made too many sweets, but now he has a good excuse to see you. The door opens after a few moments, revealing you in a fuzzy robe, draping over your body like a comfy blanket. Jason almost chokes on his spit and looks down, feeling like he just disturbed your privacy. You on the other hand, chuckle softly before greeting him.

»Good evening. Sorry about my outfit, got comfy.« You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms, ignoring the embarassment. At the same time, Jason composes himself and holds out the bag of cookies and your tupperware from the earlier cookies.

»It‘s fine, I tried your recipe and made too much. Hope you like them.« You take the gift with a grateful smile and look back up at him. You nod, trying to say something to keep the short interaction going.

»Thanks. So, you also like baking? I was hoping I didn‘t make you confused with it.«

Jason shakes his head with a faint smile, fidgeting with his hands briefly, before stuffing them into his pockets. »No, I like baking. Used to make cupcakes when I was younger, it‘s the time that keeps getting lesser these days.«

You get the struggle of having not enough time for yourself. Now that you think of it, you realise that he probably sacrficised time for these cookies. You smile back at him, keeping the cookies in your hands.

◐

It was like any other night shift for you, returning back inside your apartment complex early in the morning, with an aching body. The keys jingle in your hands as you go up the last few stairs into your story. As another yawn escapes you, you don‘t notice the other person in the hallway at the door opposite of yours.

Jason pauses and glances to his side of the sound of footsteps, staying frozen on his spot for another moment. Finally, your eyes focus on him and you give him a brief nod. He nods back, albeit slightly confused.

»Nightshift?« Judging by your rather formal clothes that remind him of work uniform, that‘s the only conclusion he comes up with. You nod in response, standing by your door. His leather jacket is in his arm, seemingly hiding something underneath it, or maybe your brain just makes things look weird after staying up for so long.

»You too?« Jason nods after a brief pause, glancing back down at his hand with his house key.

»Yeah… gonna rest up now.«

After saying goodbye, you return to your flat and pass out on your bed in a matter of seconds.

Moments like these happened more often where you both came back home at the same time or did your laundry in each other‘s company. Your conversations consisted of some small talk, sharing recipes together, and Jason made sure to bring your groceries up every week. It was fun and refreshing to have a helpful and nice neighbour like that. Especially if he has a few extra muscles that seem totally unecessary on him. Either way, you admire his workout routine, whatever it is, that he does.

Another night shift, another exhausted mind and insane craving for your bed. What you didn‘t expect to see was a vigilante by your door. Well, opposite of your door.

You both pause, a light gasp of shock escaping you as you stand there, frozen. Red Hood doesn‘t move as well, staring back at you silently until he finally clears his throat.

»Uh… do you know where Jason Todd is?«

His voice is rough and more raspy due to the modulator of the helmet, making you tense further. You process his words and shake you head quickly, glancing at Jason‘s door briefly.

»What? I- no, I didn‘t see him lately at all. Don‘t know where he went last month.«

A silence follows in the corridor, hoping that he believes you. Unexpectetly, he nods and makes his way past you, although with some distance.

»Good night, miss.« He mumbles, although the voice changer makes it sounds rather sinister. It seems like he doesn‘t notice, leaving you be and walks down the stairs in a hurry. You release a heavy sigh and watch his back until you hurry inside your apartment and lock your door, just in case.

You manage to fall asleep after pacing in your room, overthinking the situation. Is Jason in danger? Should you check up on him now? Considering that it‘s past four in the morning, that‘s a bad idea. Exhaling, you take a shower and eventually fall asleep afterwards.

You don‘t see Jason the next day in the laundry room, making you even more concerned. Luckily, you catch him next week as you walk out of your place to leave for the store.

»Jason! I need to talk to you for a moment.« You urge him lightly, stepping closer to him in the hallway. He stops and stares down at you, already tense. He doesn‘t know what to expect, ready to pull you inside his apartment and blackmailing you, so you won‘t reveal his identity to someone else… or worse, the media. But to his surprise, you feel concerned and look concerned.

»Listen, I get it if it‘s uncomfortable for you, but are you in danger? Because...« you hesitate, trying not to scare him, »Because I saw Red Hood at your door a week ago and he— he asked for you. Obviously I lied and told him you were gone since last month, but… do you need help?«

He listens to your small rant, seeing the worry on your face as clear as day. After thinking and contemplating in his mind, he pretends to be two people.

»I… you know, no one can know about this, but… he‘s actually a nice guy, just seems intimidating. He checks up on me a few times a year, but trust me, he isn‘t bad.«

He explains calmly, hoping to reassure you. The elder lady that lives above you comes down the stairs, seemingly noisy about the whispering in the stairwell. Jason notices and gently guides you inside, hand on your shoulder. Finally, inside and without any prying eyes, he goes on.

»Did he scare you?« This time, he seems worried as his eyes meet yours again. You shake your head, then nod, wanting to be honest.

»A bit… his voice just scared me.« He nods in understanding and lets go of your shoulder, glancing around his flat briefly.

»Want tea? It‘s the least I can do.«

That‘s how you settle onto his couch and drink tea together, taking your mind off the worrying topic with more mundane things.

◐

After getting to know more about Jason and why he knows Red Hoood, you feel calmer but also slightly more alert. Whenever you walk back home, you make sure to watch the rooftops, wanting to catch a glimpse of Red Hood, in case he patrols or goes to visit Jason again. Sadly, you don‘t see him, and find yourself wishing that he would appear someday again. Preferably at Jason‘s door, so you can escape into your apartment in case of an emergency.

Luckily, you catch him as you come back home after another long nightshift. You narrow your eyes at him, stopping in front of him as you take him in. The red guy seemingly stares back at you, exhaling lightly.

»Not scared this time, miss?« He sees you shake your head before untensing. He hums lightly under his breath, leaning up against the wall by Jason‘s door.

»Nightshift? Jason told me about your hard work.« He tries his best to pretend being another person as he stays casually leaned against the wall, arms crossed. You seemingly perk up shortly as he mentions your neighbour, eventually composing yourself afterwards.

»Did he? Well...you better take good care of him, I need him to carry my groceries.« Little did you know that Jason feels way more confident under his helmet, taking a few steps closer.

»Yeah? Such a big girl and you still need help with such things?«

You watch as he steps closer to you, but you don‘t get easily swoon over with his confident cockiness.

»Well, some girls like getting help with that. You should know that yourself, aren‘t you a vigilante?«

Jason explained the duties of Red Hood to you on the same evening when you had tea together. Now you‘re using his words against him, in a way he didn‘t expect. Red Hood pauses and blinks, coming off as stunned with his blank helmet. Finally, he steps back, raising his hands up in the air.

»Don‘t need to get cheeky there. Just wanted to tease ya.« He tries to save it, but once again, it falls on deaf ears as you walk past him to your door.

»Just do your job.« Is the last thing you say before you walk into your place, leaving him specheless in the hallway. Seems like you actually buy his act of being two seperate people. With a final nod, he enters his own apartment and wonders how long he can keep the act going.

◐

You visit Jason the day after, sitting on his couch as you talk his ears off about anything.

»Yeah— and then he stepped closer and just straight up insulted me. He thinks I‘m weak!« You complain to him as he prepares two cups of tea in his kitchen, smiling to himself as you talk.

»I‘m sure he didn‘t mean it like that.« He shrugs as he carefully walks over and hands you the sweet tea you seem to love.

»Still… he‘s a bit weird.« You mumble against the rim of the mug, making Jason grin more amused to himself. He leans further back against the couch, warming his hands up against his own cup of tea. A comfortable silence stretches between you as you simply sit beside each other, occaisonally sipping on your hot tea.

You sit up straighter, focusing on the flash of bright red underneath a pile of clothes at the armchair. Without trying to assume much, you glance subtly at Jason before you speak up.

»Is that his helmet?« He perks up beside you and looks up to where your eyes are focused on. Instead of immediately agreeing and covering it up, he watches you and stays calm, trying to predict how you‘ll react.

»Huh… yeah.«

You quirk an eyebrow at his response, finally looking back at him beside you. Your eyes narrow and you lean back into the couch, trying to say something to find out more.

»And.. he just left? Without his mask?«

»Mhmm.« Jason hums back in agreement, although he doesn‘t seem too convinced of himself. In reality, he feels extremly bad for lying right into your face the entire time. So, he stopped trying. It feels like you won‘t react too dramatic anyway, he hacked your phone and find out that you didn‘t tell anyone about any of this in the first place. In short, he thinks you are trustworthy, after doing his usual researching. Besides, it‘s hard to get rid of you anyway, considering you live right next door to him.

»Right...« You sigh out, finally putting two and two together, but won‘t voice it yet, being too nervous. Until he finally speaks up, leaning up this time.

»You know, I‘m surprised you believed me for this long.«

The tension finally snapped, making you relax but also grow excited.

»I knew you were the same guy all along! You both speak the same way.« You exclaim with a relieved smile, making him tilt his head in light disagreement.

»If you only saw me talking to muggers...« Jason mutters before he takes a sip of his tea.

It feels refreshing to trust someone with his identity outside of the whole vigilante and work area. Especially with someone so pretty.

←MASTERLIST

[finelinevogue]

hi!! can I get an azriel fic where he and the reader had a fight before a battle or mission and then she is presumed dead so he spends his days spiraling with guilt and he misses her a lot and that stuff. And then when she makes it back he finally confesses his feelings to her and happy ending :) bonus if she's rhys' sister but not necessary. thank u so much and happy new year!!

please come back

thank you so much for your request - i hope this lived up to expectations since i’ve wanted to write a fic like this for ages 💫

word count - 1.6k

“Where is she?”

“Az.. We… We don’t—.”

“I said where is she?” Azriel bellowed, readying Truthteller for anything.

Rhys rubbed a bloody hand over his chin whilst Cassian hung his head low.

Rhys looked at Azriel with those deep violet eyes, conveying a whole conversation to him without having to use any words.

Truthteller dropped to the ground.

Azriel followed.

His knees let out an earth shattering crack as he crumbled onto the floor. His whole body went slack, his entire demeanour changing from how he had been seconds before.

How evil a few seconds could turn life into.

“No.” He whispered to the wind.

“Az…”

“No!” He screamed, spit and blood flying from his lips - blood from the battle which he didn’t feel like they’d won anymore.

Why had any of that been worth it?

Days of war and fighting, and for what?

The peace and safety of the Night Court wad restored once more, but was life worth truly living without his person living beside him? He couldn’t even comprehend the thought of figuring that question out.

He could feel the bond slipping away. That once golden-feel thread, rusting and greying away.

Azriel tried pulling on the bond with all he had, whispering pleads under his breath. “Please, please.” He pulled and pulled, but the void when nothing pulled back was too empty to deal with.

“I’m sorry, brother.” Rhys said, kneeling down in front of Azriel. “I’m sorry.”

“Tell me it isn’t true.” Azriel looked from his blood-caked hands and into his brother’s eyes once more.

Azriel’s own eyes pooled with tears. He didn’t think he had any energy left to think, let alone cry and yet the tears would not stop falling.

His body rocked as his cries took over him.

He felt like the world was ending and he was ending with it.

He pulled that bond again, wishing for anything to give him a sign that you were at least trying to pull back - to give Azriel reason to believe you were still there - but all he felt was nothing.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

The sun was setting when Azriel woke up.

He sat up in your once shared bed, holding himself up by his hands behind him.

He looked from the setting sun to your side of the bed. He’d set up your pillows so it looked like your body was underneath the sheets. They had dents in from where he’d been holding them at night - trying to replicate the feeling of you.

He can’t believe you were gone.

Azriel took one of his hands and placed it over his heart, tugging at that thread - he wasn’t giving it up so easily. He could feel it still there, only it felt distant. Distant didn’t mean forever gone, though.

And so he pulled.

Every morning - or evening - he rose, he pulled.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

“You look…” Cassian started as Azriel entered the kitchen.

Cassian was sat at the table eating some bread and sauce - forever snacking.

“Handsome?” Azriel asked in a teasing voice

“You don’t want me to answer that honestly.” Cassian shook his head, tearing off a bit of bread and throwing it across the table for Azriel to catch.

Azriel caught it with one hand and immediately took a bite from it. It didn’t take an intelligent someone to know that Cassian was just trying to make sure Azriel remembered to eat, seeing as he kept ‘forgetting to’ recently.

Azriel hadn’t attended family dinner in 2 days - the battle having ended 3 days ago.

Cassian was impressed that Azriel was even out of bed - proud, even.

“Answer me this, then.” Azriel counter offered, “If… If you thought there was still a small chance the bond was still alive between you and Nesta, even though she’d… gone, would you pull it? Persue it?”

“Without hesitation.” Cassian nodded.

Azriel nodded in agreement.

“Why—.”

“It’s nothing.” Azriel shook his head, leaving the bread on the table and disappearing from the room once more.

“What a weird guy.” Cassian spoke to no-one as he dipped his bread into a spicy-red sauce.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

You looked peaceful.

Madja had dressed you in lilac robes - traditional to your homeland for your upcoming memorial service.

You were lying to rest in a room away from the main part of the House of Wind. You looked so beautiful. Your Fae skin had not yet withered or cracked.

“Hello, my love.” Azriel said, brushing the tips of his fingers over your cheek.

Azriel had been coming down to speak to you every spare moment he had, not wanting to miss a single second he had to watch over you.

“Are you ready to come back yet?”

He tugged that bond and he tugged it hard.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

It was the third morning.

Azriel was at his desk, writing away as he often did in the mornings. His diary was the one constant - other than you - that he had always known he could turn to each day.

Now with you gone, he–

Mor burst through the door, panting like she’d run up the steps to reach the House of Wind.

Azriel hadn’t noticed he’d dropped his pen and spilt the ink everywhere. Mor had startled him, but his shadows had calmed him.

Mor caught her breath long enough for her to speak two words.

“She’s awake.”

And that’s when he noticed he could feel it; the bond.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

Azriel was running faster than he had ever before.

He sprinted down the halls, apologising when he knocked over a vase but continuing nevertheless.

When he approached the end of the hallway that led to that door, he spotted Rhys speaking to Madja just in front of it.

Azriel slowed down his pace until he was actually apprehensively approaching the door.

He looked at Madja first, needing medical reassurance more than anything. If this was real, how did the Mother pull this off? He would owe his soul for this.

Madja gave Azriel a knowing look that made Azriel want to crumple to the floor and kiss at the feet of the Gods.

Madja, Rhys and Mor stood beside the door as Azriel didn't waste a single moment more waiting behind the doors. He pushed them open widely and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he saw your eyes open.

You smiled at him from across the room and he was done for.

Azriel's shadows went into a frenzy to reach you and you laughed as they hugged and tickled you, moulding around your body in a protective cocoon.

"I came back." You said.

Azriel nodded, not understand how this was even possible. How was this possible? Could Madja even explain this phenomenon?

"You.. You were..."

"I know." You nodded sadly. "I can't imagine how that must have been for you."

"I pulled on the bond every other moment." Azriel walked towards you slowly, careful to tread carefully in case he blurred the dream that he was sure he was dreaming.

"I know." You rested your hand on your chest. "I could feel it."

"You could?"

"I'm certain that you brought me back, Az."

His shadows met back with him but only because he was so close to you now. Close enough to be able to reach out and make sure you were real.

He brought a scarred hand up to your cheek, hesitating in case this was some cruel trick. His hand hovered where he wanted to cup your cheek, like he was internally stuck with choosing what to do next.

"It's okay. I'm here."

You moved for him and pressed your skin into his.

Azriel gasped as he felt how real you were beneath his own body. He quickly brought his other hand to cup your other cheek and greedily bring your lips close to his so he could seal this moment with a kiss.

The kiss poured all of his love for you back into him.

He felt that bond grow tighter in his chest, begging to burst out and fill the room with the endless happy that you brought him.

"You're here." He said between kisses, not letting you go for a moment.

"I am."

Azriel's kisses were hungry and desperate. It was almost like he refused to believe this was real and that he would lose you the moment he stopped. As much as you loved him and his kisses, you did need to breathe and so you reluctantly pulled away.

"No..." Azriel whined, desperate to pull you back.

You cupped his cheeks this time, grounding him to you. "Hey, sweetheart, I am here. I am right here. We have all the time in the world. I'm okay."

"We're okay." And he sealed the fact with another kiss.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

"Az, get off!"

You laughed as you tried to push him off of your side of the bed.

"You're too big." You grunted as you tried to move him off you, but he was too big of a lump of muscle to move. Of course you were only struggling to suffer - you actually quite enjoyed the feeling of him on you. If it comforted him then it comforted you.

"I am, aren't I." He said cheekily, like a teen Illyrian.

"Ugh." You rolled your eyes, but were glad to see he'd gotten his spark back. "I give up."

You stayed laid down, Azriel's body completely wrapped over yours and his legs intertwined with yours. His arms were wrapped so snug around you that you couldn't move even if you did want to. Seemed like he was attached to you from here until forever.

"Good." He said. "Now, let's sleep."

He gave one last tug on the bond before you tried to go to sleep and he was only comfortable enough to go to sleep when he felt you tug back.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Day 2: Woods + Day 23: Witch for @steddie-spooktober

"Did you come to burn the witch?"

Steve just blinked at the weird man. He was probably a bit taller than him, with wild curls of hair and a mischievous smile. "Why should I?" he quipped back. "It's fucking hot, I came to the woods to cool down. The last thing I want is to get even warmer. Fire's warm."

The man just snorted. "Oh, I got a smart one today. Good for me." He hopped down from the tree he was sitting in and landed in front of Steve. "Such a pretty one too. They never send someone pretty to burn me."

"Once again, I'm not here to burn you."

The witch clutched his chest. "Ouch. And here I thought we had a spark."

Steve didn't dignify that with a response.

And the witch didn't let that deter him. "You know, a spark? As in...a spark that would start a fire? With, I don't know, a nice stake in the middle?"

Steve groaned and rubbed his temples. "If I agree to burn you, will you let me sweat in peace? I hear a spring nearby and I really need to cool down before I pass out from the heat."

The man shook his head. "You people. You cut down the trees for your villages and then wonder why you get a sunstroke." He glanced at Steve's red face, his sweaty hair, and for a second longer, his damp shirt. "Well, I'm a mean, evil witch, but I'm not that cruel. The spring's this way, come with me."

It only took a while for Steve to take of his shoes and dip his feet into the nearby spring, groaning in relief. The witch was crouched next to him, studying his face. "So really. How did you get here? I thought I was a cautionary tale for all the good children in the village, so they never let you go this way unless you need something."

Steve muttered something unintelligible.

"Huh? What's that?"

"...got lost."

The witch's face broke out in a wide grin. "Did you now? Such a big boy, not seeing the warning signs on the trees?"

Steve just grunted and leaned down to splash his face with water, then drink some. "I don't know, man. Must have been the heat. I was working in a field and fell asleep. Stupid, I know. When I woke up, I was so dizzy I thought it was a great idea to go to the woods. I could barely remember my name - that's Steve, by the way, if you need it for a hex or something. I was walking around for what seemed like ages. Then you asked me to burn you. And here I am."

"And here you are," repeated the witch. "Well, you obviously don't have any matches on you, so we're cool, I guess. Name's Eddie, although I rarely use it."

"Because you're a big bad witch?" snorted Steve.

Eddie shrugged. "Well, yeah. Because when others talk about me, they don't think I'm a person. I'm a boogeyman to them. Someone who kills their crops, trades remedies for firstborn children for dinner...the usual stuff."

"Do they taste good?"

That gave Eddie a pause. "What does?"

"The firstborn children."

Eddie stared at Steve. Steve stared back. Then they both burst into laughter at the same time. "Suppose I should invite you for dinner so you can answer that?" said Eddie after they had finally quieted down.

Steve smiled at him, and Eddie could swear he winked at him. "Suppose you should."

...

Steve stayed for dinner - no children were served, but lots of vegetables and delicious herbs - and Eddie made sure he was fully okay before letting him go. "Sunstroke's no joke, Steve, no sleeping in the field or I'll curse you! Stop giggling, I'll do it! I'll send my cat to eat your ears or something!"

With Steve's footsteps sounding more and more distant, Eddie's cottage grew quiet again. For the fist time in years, he hated it.

The quiet lasted until the next evening, when there was a knock on his door, and behind it, Steve. He was carrying some grapes and apples, a fresh loaf of bread, and it seemed he'd even combed his hair and wore a clean shirt. 

Eddie just stared at him. "You got lost again?" he asked incredulously. Because no one came back to him. Not unless they needed something.

Steve just shushed him and headed directly to the table, setting the plates as if it had been his home too. "You know what's great about all the warning signs on the trees? They will always lead me back to you."

Eddie's face was starting to hurt from all the smiling. "So you can burn me?" he asked with a snort, well, maybe a tiny sob too.

"Burning you would be a shame," said Steve as he lit a small candle on the table, "since I have much better ideas how to spend our evening."

Eddie popped a grape in his mouth. "Funny," he mumbled around it, "so do I."

[littlelovelunette]

vi and reader are in a relatively new relationship, and vi comes home one day in a bad mood, just generally grumbly, which triggers reader because of their childhood, and reader starts to tiptoe around vi and feels really anxious that vi will get upset with them and blow up, and vi picks up on this, checking if they’re okay when they lock themselves in the bathroom to try to calm down

Walking On Eggshells

Contains trauma, childhood abuse, parental abuse, PTSD, anxiety, mentions of hitting

vi was going through her emo stage after her breakup with caitlyn and pitfighting to get her mind off of things and also because lets be honest, she has anger issues. vi also has been drinking a lot that's how she ended up having very sloppy and messy sex with you, and now you both lived together.

while usually vi returns home happy after winning a pit fight and a little drunk but you don't mind it and you take care of her but today she was completely different.

a few days in the relationship, and this was the first time you were seeing her angry.

"hey baby, welcome back," you smiled at vi who walked in clearly not in a good mood given the way she was slouching and practically fuming

"baby what's wrong?" you asked and gently tried to touch her and although she didn't push you away or snap at you, she did seem moody how she took her jacket off and shoved it in your arms

you hung it on the coat hanger and turned to her, "nothing." she answered after feeling your pressing gaze on her back

"she probably lost a pitfight." you thought to yourself as you watched as go inside the shared bedroom, fists clenched in anger as the veins of her muscles bulged.

vi sighed taking her tanktop off almost ripping it on the way as she headed in the bathroom to take a shower and freshen up. there was silence all around the house.

your hands shook a little as you tried preparing sandwiches for lunch, you didn't know when it would be that vi would snap out of anger and start breaking stuff maybe even hitting you...

that's how it's always been before. whenever your dad would get angry he'd take it out on you same to your mother. it was always you getting hurt because of things other people did to piss your parents off whether it be creditors, annoying relatives, your siblings...

and as if it was just your parents hitting you too, it was your siblings as well. they played a huge part I your building trauma, taking their anger out on you, hitting you. subconsciously your hand ran over your right cheek where you've been slapped far too many times than you can think off.

you bit your lip as you tried to be as quiet as you could throughout the kitchen, flinching when you yourself lifted the pans causing a small sounds as you fried the sausages.

"hey," vi's voice sounded out in the silent kitchen breaking you away from your train of thoughts, "yes?" you looked at her and could see she wasn't necessarily in a good mood but she didn't seem as pissed as before

you could hear the shower turning off in the small apartment, vi's footsteps padding around as she dried her hair and searched for fresh clothes to put on. you let out a shuddering sigh, hands moving around gingerly to cut the crust off the bread.

you sighed softly and walked in the bathroom quietly trying to keep your anxiety down, you sighed and stared at yourself in the mirror. you still has bruises from your last when your parents had hit you. that was making you wonder what if vi added to all those bruises that have marked you and scarred you for rest of your life

you washed your face after a bit, sighing and shaking your head to try to forget the building anxiety in your chest. you headed out of the bathroom and back to the kitchen to make her lunch

you put all the ingredients together, grilling the sandwich silently.

"what's for lunch?" vi moved close putting her hands on your waist as she kissed the side of your neck softly.

"o-oh, i-im just making cheese sandwiches."

"they smell good." vi mumbled in your neck, hands trailing up to squeeze the curve of your waist

you couldn't help wonder how long she would be able to play all nice to you

"baby, you've been tense since i got back is something bothering you?"

"n-no, vi im fine." you tried to insist but your hands were shaky and so were your words

"doll... youre stuttering." vi sighed making you turn her way, "talk to me."

"im just scared you're gonna... hit me." the last words came out as a whisper and silence filled the kitchen for a while and then suddenly vi grabbed you in a tight hug, pressed you firmly against her muscular figure, little drops of water falling off her semi wet hair.

"oh love... i could never hit you of all people." vi said her voice a whisper as she kissed the top for your head, "look at me."

you looked up to see vi's intense blue eyed gaze, "never hitting you okay? i promise."

you couldn't help pulling her in for a second hug making her chuckle but she didn't resist.

[itsnesss]

Hiiiii this is kind of like your last request but can you please write for kimi and reader whos learning italian and is stressed for their exams

Im currently in extension italian and looking to take it for the rest of high school but i missed like 2 weeks of lessons because i was sick and i have an exam in 2 days and im stressed 😭

Could it be kimi helping the reader with their studies (since hes italian obviously!!)

𝐤𝐢𝐦𝐢 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐞 | kimi antonelli × fem!reader

summary | you're stressed about your Italian exam, kimi notices, sits with you, and patiently helps you study

warnings | academic stress, comfort-heavy, fluff (emotional support)

word count | 1.1 k

an | sorry for the delay, I hope your exam went well 🤍

🖇 more ka12 🖇 f1 masterlist

You're sitting at the edge of the bed, legs crossed, laptop open on a verb conjugation page that makes you want to cry. Your notes are scattered all over the floor. The yellow highlighter doesn’t highlight anything anymore; it just trembles between your fingers.

"I can’t do this anymore," you whisper. "Nothing's sticking. I missed two weeks. Everything’s a mess."

Kimi appears at the door. He’s wearing a plain gray T-shirt and holding a glass of water. He watches you silently for a few seconds before stepping into the room.

"Talking to the verbs again?" he asks with a faint smile, setting the glass down on your nightstand.

You don’t answer. You just lower your gaze, biting the inside of your cheek. Your eyes are wet, but you refuse to cry. Not again. Not over this.

Kimi sits beside you without a word. His presence has always been calm, steady. Like a rock in the middle of your storm.

"I’ve got the exam in two days," you say finally, your voice barely a cracked whisper. "It’s not like the basics. They’re asking for structures I don’t even remember learning."

"And what did you do today?" he asks, without a trace of judgment.

"I tried to review il congiuntivo... but I ended up reading the same sentence five times. Then I spent an hour watching dog TikToks."

"Valid strategy," he replies calmly. "But not the most effective."

You let out a weak laugh. He looks at you with that neutral expression that's sometimes hard to read, but you’ve learned to decipher it by now. He’s thinking. Planning something.

"We’re doing this my way," he says, standing up. "Got a clean notebook?"

"Yeah... I think so."

"Grab it. And sit at the table. We’re going to study, but without making it feel like torture."

"And how are you going to pull that off?" you ask, half-laughing.

Kimi shoots you a serious look.

"I’m Italian. Verbs are my daily bread. And I care about you."

Your stomach does a tiny flip. You don’t say anything, but you obey.

You sit at the table while he searches through the chaos of your stuff for your favorite pen. Then, unhurried, he starts to teach you like he’s done it all his life. With patience. With dry humor. With calm.

For the first time in weeks… something starts to make sense.

Kimi flips through your notebook carefully, glancing over your underlined notes, scribbles, and a small message in the corner of a page that says “I want to die lol.” He doesn’t say anything. Just raises an eyebrow, and you hide your face in your hands, mortified.

"I’m not judging," he says at last, nodding. "But we are going to fix this."

He sits across from you, the notebook open between you both. He picks up a black pen and writes in clear, elegant handwriting, almost too neat for someone like him:

Congiuntivo Presente

Che io parli, che tu parli, che lui/lei parli…

"You’ve seen this already, right?"

"Yeah, but I mix it up with the imperfect. I don’t even know when to use what anymore."

Kimi nods slowly. He doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t say “but it’s easy.” He just does what he always does: gets straight to the point.

"Okay. You use the present when you’re talking about something that could still happen. Something you want, doubt, hope for but that’s not real yet."

He looks at you.

"For example: Spero che tu capisca."

"‘I hope you understand.’"

"Exactly. You don’t understand yet," he adds with a wink, "but I have faith."

You laugh without meaning to.

"Now," he goes on, "the congiuntivo imperfetto is trickier, but you use it when all that stuff you hoped for… was in the past. Or didn’t happen."

He writes another example:

Speravo che tu capissi.

(I hoped you understood.)

"See? I don’t have faith anymore. Just sadness."

"Relatable," you say, slumping onto the table.

Kimi taps you on the head with the pen, gently.

"No giving up. Listen, you don’t need to be perfect. You just need to understand the rules well enough to show you know how to play. And you’re smart. What you’re missing is peace of mind."

"And you’re gonna give me that?"

Kimi shrugs.

"I can’t promise miracles. But I’ll stay here until this stops feeling like a nightmare."

He’s quiet for a moment. Then he writes another sentence on the page without looking at you:

Se io potessi, ti porterei via da tutto questo.

You read it softly.

"‘If I could, I would take you away from all this.’ … That’s… congiuntivo, right?"

Kimi nods.

"Yeah. And I mean it."

You smile, this time with less tightness in your chest.

Maybe you’re not ready for the exam. But with him across from you, explaining things calmly, without pressure, without making you feel dumb...

...

It’s been almost forty minutes since you started. Your notes now have a new order, clean, with examples you actually understand, simple explanations in the margins, and even a couple of drawings (one of them is Kimi’s attempt at drawing a pizza to explain definite articles).

When you finish copying a conjugation chart, you drop your pen and lean back in your chair.

"My brain’s going to explode."

"Not yet, please. We still have trapassato prossimo."

"Don’t say those words in front of me."

Kimi chuckles softly and stands up. You follow him with your eyes, a bit confused.

"Where are you going?"

"For chocolate. And coffee."

"Chocolate?"

"Mandatory break. Teacher’s orders."

You don’t protest. You just smile as you watch him disappear down the hall. The air in your chest feels lighter. Your hands don’t shake anymore.

A little while later, he comes back with two steaming mugs and a chocolate bar broken into pieces on a napkin. He hands you a mug and sits beside you this time, closer. The smell calms you more than any breathing exercise could.

"Thank you," you say quietly.

"It’s nothing. I mean, the coffee is terrible. But the chocolate makes up for it."

"Not just for that."

He glances at you sideways. You can tell he’s not big on getting sentimental, but he doesn’t pull away.

"I know it hasn’t been easy," he says at last. "Missing classes, feeling lost, thinking you’re falling behind. I get it. I’ve been there. Not with Italian… but with plenty of things."

You look at him closely. He doesn’t talk much about himself, especially not about hard times. But his words are honest. And that’s enough.

"What you’re doing right now," he adds, "trying, even when you’re tired, anxious… that means more than any grade."

You say nothing. His words settle in your chest, soft and warm.

"You’re a really good teacher," you whisper.

"Yeah, I know."

He makes you laugh again, just as he breaks off another piece of chocolate and hands it to you directly.

"Ready for another round?"

"With chocolate… I think I am."

He raises his mug.

"To conquering the trapassato prossimo."

You clink your mug with his, laughing. And for the first time in days, studying doesn’t feel like punishment it feels like something you can, and will, get through.

[decaying-opossum]

moment’s silence

| cult leader remmick x reader |

| part 1/? | |word count: 3k|

[warnings: 18+. religious themes, obsessive behaviors, cult stuff, remmick stuff, smut, oral sex, reader is referred to with they/them but is written with afab anatomy, i’ve never written smut before and am a loser so i apologize if it’s bad]

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

the locals of coalbranch knew better then to poke around the compound further up the mountain, knew better then to actually help search for any missing visitors, knew better then to acknowledge the screams that’d ring out, knew better then to actually accept any kind of invitation to church or a potluck from any of the congregation that lived up there.

they, however, didn’t know any better. growing up further east, in the foothills instead of full blown mountains. their knowledge of coalbranch being sparse childhood memories of visiting their grandparents, which were now faded boasts of nostalgia, up until a few months ago when their grandpa passed away and their chunk of the inheritance was that old farm that hadn’t been touched in over a decade.

the lawyer was tight-lipped “bit of a fixer-upper” she’d said, gaze flicking to the rearview mirror as they drove up the winding road. she didn’t offer much else, not when they asked about the old congregation or the compound. just chewed her gum a little faster and dropped them off without so much as getting out of the car.

it wasn’t long after they moved in that he showed up.

remmick.

he was just there one evening, right after sunset, leaning against the post of the front gate like he’d been invited, like he belonged there more than they did. eyes sharp and too still, lips curled into something halfway between polite smile and private joke. dressed plain, collar buttoned to the neck, sleeves rolled with casual exactness. dust on his boots. stillness in his stance, like he could wait forever.

“i figured i should welcome you proper,” he said, voice low and warm like summer honey “seeing as we’re neighbors now.”

they should’ve closed the gate.

instead, they nodded. said something dumb, probably. his presence did that, scrambled words, made the air feel thinner. they didn’t notice how he didn’t blink much. didn’t notice the way he kept looking at them like they were already his. didn’t notice the way his breath would hitch up in a smell when they were close enough.

he came by often after that. never asked for anything. just brought things, jars of canned peaches, homemade bread, a crooked little wooden charm he swore was for protection. he’d linger on the porch long past their first attempt at ending the conversation so they could go inside and sleep, talking in riddles, eyes half-lidded like he was dreaming while awake.

they started to get used to seeing him. that was the scariest part. how quickly it all turned normal.

remmick was always just…there. not intrusive. not demanding. just present. a steady rhythm, every other evening or so, a knock on the screen door, a low evenin’ and that familiar tilt of his head, like he already knew what they’d say before they said it. like he was waiting for them to catch up.

he’d lean on the porch railing, compliment the new paint they managed to slap on the barn, talk about the weather, ask little things; Were you sleepin’ alright? That cough clear up? You eatin’ enough?

and somehow, they’d answer him. somehow, they’d start offering coffee, or letting him sit inside when the nights got colder. somehow, they stopped noticing how his eyes lingered.

he never touched them. not at first.

but his voice would drop, quiet as a prayer, when they were close. he’d say things that didn’t sound strange until hours later, when they were alone, lights off, trying to sleep.

“i dreamed about you again last night. You were singin’. You ever sing, darlin’?”

“you’d like the chapel, i think. real warm. real quiet. like bein’ inside a body”

“you got the kind of soul that don’t come around often. the kind that calls people home”

it was easy to brush off. he was just weird, right? just one of those overly polite, southern-mystic types, all charisma and cryptic charm. and it wasn’t like he ever crossed a line.

until they found the charm again.

they’d tossed it. that little carved wooden thing he gave them, left it in a drawer and then, weeks later, it was back on their bedside table. sitting on top of their pillow like a forgotten gift. they didn’t remember putting it there. didn’t remember even seeing it again after that first night.

when they brought it up, he just smiled wider than usual. touched the corner of his mouth with one knuckle.

“it found its way back. that’s how you know it’s workin’”

that night, they dreamed of him. not the polite version. not the porch-sitting, bread-bringing version. no, this one knelt beside their bed, breathing slow and deep, his hands resting gently on their throat and thigh. not squeezing. just there. like a promise.

and his mouth moved like he was praying.

and when they woke up, they were full of shame at the mess they became in their sleep over a man who, from what they understand, was a man of god.

that night they couldn’t bring themself to answer the knock at the door, hiding in their bedroom too ashamed and still feeling the aftermath of that damned dream too much to face the star of it. but he didn’t leave, sitting in his usual rocking chair like he owned the place, like a man coming home after a hard days work.

they didn’t answer the door the next night either. or the next, but the rocking chair stayed occupied.

every evening just after dark, they’d hear it creak, slow and steady. no knock. no footsteps. just presence. just patince. just the sound of wood sighing beneath weight and time and something older than either.

by the fourth night, they peeked through the curtain, jumping back with a curse when he was already looking at them.

he didn’t wave. didn’t smile. just tipped his head, slow and reverent, like he was beholding a miracle.

their stomach dropped like a stone.

the next day, the gate was open when they came back from town. they never left it open. and inside was the scent of something burning faintly sweet. wax. smoke. and something else.

they followed it to the kitchen.

laid out on the table, a little bundle of herbs, tied with black string. a fresh loaf of his bread. and a single page torn from an old hymnal, folded and tucked under a mason jar of creek water that was still cold to the touch.

Written in looping ink on the back:

“You don’t have to be afraid of what already belongs to you.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

the next time they saw him, really saw him, was at the edge of their field, just after dusk. he was backlit by the slightest end of the sun through the pines, haloed, shirt sleeves rolled high, collar open this time. the first time they’d seen his neck bare. a cord hung there, just barely visible. something wooden strung on it, shaped like the charm.

“i’ve been prayin’,” he said softly, almost like he was shy, though he never seemed anything but certain. “prayin’ for clarity. for patience.”

they didn’t know what to say. just stood there, hands in their jacket pockets, heart going sideways. he stepped closer.

“you dream of me again?”

they froze. couldn’t lie. couldn’t speak. he smiled slow, like he already knew.

“i ain’t ashamed to say it, i think i was made for you. all my days before now feel like waitin’. and I’ve been good, haven’t I? gentle?”

his eyes darkened, voice still calm. still low.

“but it’s hard, sugar. it’s hard bein’ near you and not touchin what calls to me like a hymn.”

something inside them twisted. fear. want. shame. awe.

“come to the chapel,” he murmured “don’t even gotta stay long. just a little while, i wanna show you where i keep you. where i built the whole altar.”

they shook their head, breath catching.

“remmick, i ain’t sure how exactly i’m supposed to react to this.”

he jaw tense for a moment before he sighed, grasping their wrists “then lemme in, darlin’, ain’t gotta come with me tonight but i know it’s driving you up the wall too..lemme help, just for a moment..”

they barely remembered letting him in.

one second they were staring at him from the doorway, heart punching the inside of their ribs.

the next, he was inside.

not loud. not sudden. just there. like fog under the door. like prayer in the back of your throat. a warm, slow rot blooming sweet inside the ribcage.

remmick didn’t speak at first.

he just looked at them. that same reverent tilt of the head. that same quiet, boiling hunger simmering behind his dark eyes. something between worship and possession.

“you look like you ain’t been sleeping.” he broke his silence, softly, like concern. like love.

like a knife sliding easy through butter.

they flinched when he reached for them, just to brush their cheekbone with the back of his hand, like he was scared they’d vanish if he touched too hard.

“i see you in my sleep, you know” he whispered “every night. bent over that altar, light on your shoulders like God himself was callin’ you home.”

he stepped closer. no sudden moves. just slow and sure and inevitable.

“and i pray, real gentle, that he lets me have you just a little while longer.”

their mouth was dry. their pulse a frantic little rabbit in their throat. he smelled like cedar smoke and sun-warmed flannel and something too old to name “…darlin’ lemme have you for the night, please, been good and gentle..i promise i’ll keep being good and gentle..just lemme have ya..”

the words were more breath than sound. desperate, not rushed, like he was praying again, and they were the altar. his nose pressed into the crook of their neck, breath hot and shaky. and then the wet heat of his mouth, open and reverent. drool soaking into their nightgown, slick against collarbone.

they should’ve pushed him off. should’ve gagged in disgust. should’ve screamed.

but all they could do was nod.

just once. a small, trembling thing. something ancient inside them rolling over and exposing its belly.

remmick shuddered like he’d felt it, like that nod struck him right down to the root. he let out a sound then, soft and guttural, full of gratitude and hunger. his hands, which had been hanging at his sides in disciplined stillness, finally moved.

one cradled the back of their head like it was breakable. the other curled around their waist, warm and careful but firm, like he thought they might change their mind if he didn’t hold on.

“you’re doin’ so good darlin” he whispered, mouth dragging up along their jaw, voice wet and wrecked. “letting me touch what’s mine. been dreamin’ of this so long it hurts.”

they whimpered, soft, pathetic, because he was saying all the wrong things in all the right ways. because their body was betraying them, leaning in, craving more warmth, more pressure, more him.

remmick didn’t kiss them, not properly. he just held his face there, pressed close, breathing them in like incense.

“you don’t gotta do nothin’, sugar,” he murmured, guiding them back, step by slow step, toward the couch. “just let me… hold what’s holy. that’s all. just let me rest with you. i’ll be so good. so quiet.”

they sat when he nudged them down, dazed. their knees barely worked. he knelt in front of them, eyes wide and glistening like he was already halfway crying.

“i knew you’d feel it,” he said, cupping their calves like a man anchoring himself to the earth “been so patient. So gentle. didn’t even touch myself after those dreams. swore i wouldn’t stain it ‘til you wanted me.”

their breath hitched.

“remmick-”

he surged up, not to kiss them, but to lay his head on their chest. just rested there, mouth parted, hands fisted in the hem of their nightgown.

“you feel that?” he mumbled, voice muffled against their skin. “that’s you makin’ me better. you calm all the hunger in me, darlin’ even when it hurts.”

and it did hurt, they could feel it, the tension in him, the tremble in his arms, the barely contained shaking in his legs. he was trying. not to break them. not yet. he was on his knees at the altar, and they were the god he worshipped.

they didn’t know what to do with their hands. every instinct screamed to push, to pull away, to break the spell, but their fingers curled instead. first into the cushion beneath them, then into his hair.

that broke something open.

he let out a sound so soft and wrecked, it didn’t sound human. a choked whimper, like someone crying into a pillow. his whole body sagged between their knees, and when he spoke again, it was like the words were bleeding out of him.

“you touch me like that, i ain’t gonna last long,” he breathed “ain’t even laid a hand on you proper and i’m already halfway ruined” it was a desperate whine, like the thought of being ruined before he actually got to have them hurt.

“i can’t take you tonight, i’m sorry darlin’, gotta be able to do it right” he mumbled, hands bunching up their nightgown “but imma still make it worth it for you”

they were confused until his hands hooked around their knees, yanking them closer to the edge of the couch as he slipped under the fabric of their nightgown, kissing up their thighs. nails and teeth feeling to sharp but they chalked it up to over sensitivity and anticipation, ignoring the inhuman noises he made while working up and down their legs.

his teeth scraped too close to the soft skin just above their knee, and something inside them jolted like a warning bell. but then his tongue followed, warm and wet, and it was like the warning turned into a hymn. his nails dug in, hard enough to sting, soft enough to feel like worship.

“sweet thing” he murmured, voice almost unrecognizable now, hushed and broken “you don’t even know what you’re lettin’ me taste. what you’re offerin’ up like it ain’t the holiest thing i’ve ever touched.”

the nightgown was bunched at their hips now, the thin cotton hiding nothing. remmick’s breath hitched when he looked, really looked, and his forehead bowed to the inside of their thigh like it was sacred ground.

“one night,” he whispered, almost to himself. “just one night to ruin myself on you, and then i’ll go back to bein’ good. i promise.”

but they both knew he was lying.

he licked a slow line up, and the whole world narrowed to that heat, that pressure, that impossible sound of him sobbing quietly between their thighs.

he licked a long strip up their folds, groaning as he rolled his hips against nothing. their head lolled back against the couch, legs shaking as he buried his face further into them

his mouth moving like he was speaking in tongues, like he was praying into them.

they couldn’t breathe. couldn’t think. every part of them was trembling, half from fear, half from the kind of want that burrowed into bone. he lapped at them with slow, reverent strokes, moaning like each taste was a salvation, a reward, a piece of divinity he’d been denied too long.

and then, his voice again, low and ruined

“you make me believe again, sugar. I forgot what that felt like. forgot what it meant to feel this clean…this full”

his tongue worked deeper, firmer, and they cried out before they could stop themself. He shuddered at the sound, hands clutching tighter at their hips.

“that’s it. that’s it, baby. don’t hold back. let me hear it- don’t you know I live off your sound?”

something in his tone snapped around the edges, less prayer now, more fever. less reverence, more ritual. and still he didn’t stop, didn’t relent, tongue relentless and mouth messy and open and too desperate to care if they shook or wept or whispered please into the stale air of that little farmhouse.

they clutched at his shoulders now, unable to stop themself, nails digging into the hard line of muscle beneath his shirt. he whimpered against them, like that was the holiest thing, like being touched back was what would finally break him, pants being marked with a wet spot that should’ve had him embarrassed and apologizing but all he wanted to do was continue his worship and work on them.

he pulled back, just slightly, just enough to look up- face wet, lips red, eyes glassy and wide with something between rapture and hunger. he dragged his cheek along their inner thigh like a cat marking its territory, nose nuzzling like it belonged there.

his hand slipped under their shirt now, palm flat over their stomach. he wasn’t groping. he was feeling. savoring. worshipping.

“you don’t gotta decide soon, i’ll still be here. just like i am now. on my knees. every night. dreamin’. touchin’. pray’n for the moment i can finally be in you..it’ll be on that altar like you deserve”

they should’ve been afraid. and maybe they were.

but the worst part -the damning part- was that they didn’t want him to stop.

not even when he buried his face again and moaned against them like he was drinking straight from a grail. not even when he said, over and over, “mine mine mine” between each kiss.

not even when the night stretched longer than it should’ve. when the moon didn’t move. when the air got too still.

and outside the window, just past the fields, the chapel lights flickered on.

like they knew.

like they were waiting.

like something inside was preparing the altar.

and remmick didn’t stop until they were limp and gasping, boneless and slack, head fallen back, every last bit of resistance milked out of them with his mouth.

he rested his forehead to their thigh again, breath slowing.

“you rest now,” he said, gently, like a lullaby “be back tomorrow with s’ more of that peach jelly you like so much” he pressed his wet mouth against their thigh for one last kiss.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

tags: @001-side

[melercies]

One Bed Trope [Supports]

Pairing(s): Elliot, Dusekkar, Builderman & Taph

Author's Note: Please let me know if I mischaracterized anyone. I was practically fighting for my life trying to write for these guys. It was fun to write them, but trying to rhyme with Dusekkar made me lose brain cells every second. Survivalists are next. Likes, reposts, and comments are highly appreciated! <3

For some unknown reason, after a brutal round, you find yourself standing in front of your cabin. Gone and demolished for what reason? You don’t know, and frankly, I don’t either, but here we are! Thanks a lot, Spectre. All that was left was the pathetic remains of the foundation, some twisted wood still crackling with dying embers. Just great. You’re utterly exhausted, drained physically and mentally, as you wonder where you’re going to sleep. Out in the cold? Absolutely not, especially not with the repetitive cycle of hell that you have to go through daily. At least at the end of the day, you need to find yourself in comfort. So, with really no other option, you turn and walk yourself over to a fellow neighbor’s cabin. Sure, it was embarrassing, but it’s better than sleeping outside in the cold. 

You couldn’t care less as to who you were knocking, feeling too tired to even think properly. You just needed a place that isn’t destroyed to get some sleep, especially for tomorrow. It takes a moment or two until the door opens, revealing the individual.

Elliot:

You’re barely standing by the time you get to the nearest cabin, the smell of smoke still clung to your clothes, and the ruins of your shelter fresh in your mind. Spectre really did a number this time. You raise your hand and knock, only half expecting whoever was within their cabin to be there.

There’s the sound of muffled clutter before the door swings open.

“Whoa—!” Elliot blurts out. His visor is tilted slightly askew, eyes wide as he takes in your soot-smudged state before his expression softened into that classic worried Elliot look. “Are you okay?! What happened—no, wait, don’t answer that yet—come in, come in.”

You’re too tired to explain much beyond the words: “Spectre. Cabin’s gone. Burned down.”

Elliot ushers you in like a panicked restaurant host. “Okay, yeah. That’s… awful. You should’ve come sooner, I—I can make something warm, I’ve got pizza. Or, uh, water? You’re not hurt, are you?” He’s already moving around the room, grabbing mismatched things, tripping slightly over a pizza box, and muttering, “Smooth, Elliot. Real smooth.”

The moment you step inside, he’s already clearing a spot for you to sit down. “Sorry about the mess! I was reorganizing my stuff—uh, gear. Same thing, sorta.”

His cabin feels…weirdly cozy, even if it’s a little messy. Warm light glows from an old camping lantern, and the entire place smells faintly like garlic bread. Piles of rolled-up maps, energy drinks, empty pizza boxes, and extra red-colored visors clutter the corners. Still, it’s homey. Lived-in. Human, especially in a place like this.

You clock the single bed instantly. Elliot follows your gaze before scratching the back of his neck, trying not to meet your eyes.

“I, uh… I’ve got another blanket? And a couple of pillows. And I can totally take the floor if—”

You cut him off. “No need. We can share.”

That seems to give him a moment to process. “Oh. Okay. Yeah, I mean—I don’t snore or anything. I think. Probably.” 

He approaches the bed as he spends the next few minutes nervously straightening the bed, fluffing the pillow twice before realizing you just want to lie down already. When the lights are finally off, you expect him to roll over and go quiet.

But he doesn’t.

“…Hey,” he whispers after a while. “I know this place sucks. Like, it's basically hell. But you’re not alone, okay? I’ve got you.”

Hearing such words of reassurance and comfort. It’s a practical contradiction in this repeated cycle of survival that’s filled with constant bloodshed, but it’s enough. Everyone needs it as of right now.

A moment of silence passes after his words. Then you hear the unmistakable crinkle of foil nearby.

“…Also. I saved a slice.”

You smile faintly, not even looking, just reaching back until your hand touches warm pizza. And honestly? Maybe this night wasn’t all that bad.

Dusekkar:

The ruins of your cabin smolder in the distance, blackened wood hissing under the slow creep of night. The Spectre’s chaos had left nothing behind. Perfect. Let’s hope the Spectre had a good laugh about it. With exhaustion dragging limbs like weights and frost biting through your clothes, you approach the one cabin with a flickering lantern still glowing in the window. You barely think about whose cabin you’re standing in front of, only that it’s intact and has a door that might lead to warmth.

You knock once. Twice. Then, pause. You’re about to leave, thinking the individual has long gone to slumber or isn’t in the mood to converse with anyone, when it creaks open.

Standing in the doorway is Dusekkar.

His antlers cast jagged shadows behind him, robes rustling. The orange fire inside his dark blue pumpkin head flickers once as the firelight casts strange glyphs across the inside of his pumpkin head, and then he speaks, voice like a lantern’s flame—soft, warm, and ancient:

“A visitor calls on ashen breath,

Cold and burnt from the trial’s death,

Spectre’s rage, your home undone…

Rest you seek, until the next sun?”

Too tired to even make sense of the rhyme, you just nod. “I don't care where I sleep. I just rather…not freeze out here.”

Dusekkar doesn’t move for a second — simply studying you with that eternal, flickering stare. Then he steps aside, gesturing with the tip of his staff. You cross the threshold.

The interior is serene—more of a shrine than a home. Glowing runes shimmer along the walls, and the air carries a subtle scent of smoke and lavender. Deeper inside the cabin, shelves and tables are softly illuminated by flickering blue candles. Nearby, a single bed is tucked carefully beside a stack of scrolls and ancient-looking books that probably seem to have existed long before Telamon.

“There’s only one bed,” you mutter. “Of course there is.”

Dusekkar tilts their head, seemingly hearing what you’ve said. His staff clicks softly against the floor as they move to stir the fire. 

“This realm allows what fate permits. One bed, one soul. The tale now fits.”

He motions you toward it but makes no move to lie down himself. Instead, they settle cross-legged in the corner of the room, staff resting across their lap.

You frown. “Aren’t you going to sleep too?”

“I dream while waking—sleep, I lend. The fire burns for you, my friend.”

He gently taps his staff against the wooden wall — two knocks, pause, then one. A steady rhythm.

“A signal known, a warding spell, To shield your mind where shadows dwell. So sleep, my friend, while fire glows — And when you wake, we’ll strike our foes.”

You don’t understand everything he says. But the warmth from the fire, the eerie calm of the room, and the sense that he truly is watching over you — it’s enough. You feel protected, strangely.

Although there’s also a strange comfort in the way he speaks. 

You lie down, letting the warmth soak into your skin as the fire crackles beside you, eyes growing heavy. Just as sleep begins to take you, you hear his voice again — quieter this time, almost a lullaby:

“The bed is small, but dreams are wide — And in this cabin, you’re safe inside.”

Builderman:

Honestly, you barely remember dragging your feet back toward where your cabin once stood— a hollow, scorched impression in the natural ground now. Smoke clings to the ruins like a bitter memory. There’s nothing left. The Spectre could’ve done it out of their enjoyment or anger. Who knows?

You stand there for a while, just staring at the ash until the cold sets into your bones like ice.

There’s no time to feel sorry for yourself. Tomorrow is just another day, and the next round will come like clockwork. You won’t survive it if you’re not half-frozen and unrested.

You don’t think — you just walk. Not toward anyone in particular. Your mind’s too fogged, your legs too tired.

By the time you approach a door, knocking once, twice, then lean your head against the doorframe, eyes half-closed. You expect silence.

Instead, the door clicks open.

Builderman stands there, gray-skinned and underslept, hoodie slightly ruffled, his Turbo Builders Club hat tilted just a bit from where he’s probably been dragging his hands through his hair in stress. His default expression — somewhere between disappointed and exhausted. Not at you. At the world. This situation. At the weight he’s been carrying for years.

“...Cabin’s gone?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

You nod.

“...You look like hell,” he mutters. “Get in.”

The cabin is exactly what you’d expect — minimalistic, neat, and functional. There are workbenches tucked in the corners, plans scattered across the desk, and blueprints pinned with bent nails to the wall. A half-assembled generator lies in pieces on the floor, half-finished as if he’d given up mid-build. The air smells like solder and printer paper.

And there it is.

In all its glory.

The one bed.

You eye it, then glance back at Builderman. “Don’t suppose you’ve got a backup plan for this, too?”

He exhales through his nose, running a hand through his hair before slumping against the wall. “I’ll take the floor. You’ve done enough rounds. I can’t afford to have you limping tomorrow.”

You scoff. “You think I’m gonna let the founder of Roblox sleep on the floor?”

He frowns. “That title doesn’t mean much anymore. Besides, it’s not like I sleep much.”

But later, when the fire burns low and the weight of the day finally pulls you down, you find Builderman sitting on the edge of the bed, still wearing his hoodie, staring into the firelight with a thousand-yard stare.

You open one eye. “You’re gonna break your back sitting like that.”

He huffs, lips twitching like he might laugh. “I’ve built buildings and worlds from nothing. I’ll survive a night with poor posture.”

Silence before he speaks again.

“Just take the bed. I’ll be up most of the night anyway.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off with a look — the same one he gives Shedletsky when he’s about to do something stupid.

“Don’t argue. I’ve made worse sacrifices.”

So you shut your mouth, brain too exhausted to even think of sentences to say.

The sheets are surprisingly warm. Not soft, exactly, but warm — and that’s enough to suffice. Builderman returns to the desk by the window, scribbling notes, calculations, or even plans by lantern light. You watch him from under the blanket as your eyelids grow heavier.

But eventually, the cold wears him down. With a muttered “Scoot,” he lies beside you, stiff as a board, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling.

You both lie there in silence for a while — until his voice breaks the quiet, barely above a whisper:

“We’ll rebuild it. Your cabin. I’ll help you design it.”

You don’t respond at first — you’re already fading into sleep — but the corner of your mouth tugs up.

“Thanks… Boss.”

He grunts. “Don’t call me that.”

But the blanket shifts slightly more in your direction anyway. Just enough to share.

Taph:

You’re so tired that you barely feel your feet dragging through the grass. The sky is a heavy black curtain above you, and the burnt-out remains of your cabin still glow behind you like the dying embers of a failed promise.

Thanks, Spectre.

You don’t know whose cabin you’re knocking on. You’re too cold, too exhausted, and clearly, too far past the point of caring. You just need four walls and a roof.

The door opens without a word. No quick movement, no startled reaction.

Taph stands there.

His hood cast his face in deep shadow, the yellow runic lines across his robes faintly glowing under the moonlight. His bandit mask concealed any chance of reading his expression. Not that it mattered. He’d never said a word anyway.

Still, the meaning in his stillness was clear: What happened?

You gestured vaguely behind you. “Spectre. No cabin. No roof. Just…fire.”

He tilted his head slightly, then stepped aside. That’s an invitation enough.

Inside, Taph’s cabin smelled of gunpowder and old books. Dim lanterns flickered overhead, illuminating his intricate setup; trap schematics, disassembled mechanisms, spare wires, and trip lines hung with precision across the workbenches. And off to the side, one surprisingly neat bed, tucked into the corner.

Just one.

Your shoulders sag as Taph watches.

“Only one bed,” you mutter aloud. “Of course.”

Taph looks at you briefly. Then he gestures, a two-finger flick toward the bed.

You raise an eyebrow. “Seriously? Are you okay with that?”

He pauses, then nods once. 

“I can sleep on the floor,” you say quietly, a little unsure. 

He slowly shakes his head. 

You sigh, too drained to argue.

The mask reveals nothing, but the gesture itself is calm from Taph. It’s less about ‘you owe me’ and more ‘you’ve been through enough.’ You found yourself smiling a little at the comforting gesture.

You approach and ease down onto the edge of the bed, removing your gear. The bed is simple: wool blanket, faint scent of iron and dust, but undeniably warmer than the outside.

Taph joins you a moment later, setting down a quiet clinking of traps and parts. He lies back against the wall beside you, arms resting on his lower half. Still saying nothing. Just watching the window, the horizon, the stars beyond the fog. His breathing is soft, nearly inaudible.

Even in his presence, there’s something watchful about the air. You’re used to survivors speaking, venting, even shouting during rounds. But Taph is different.

In the quiet, your voice slips out.

“You always wear that hood, even to sleep?”

He doesn’t move.

But eventually… a single nod.

You chuckle faintly. “Figures.”

Stillness.

Then, you feel something — not a hand, not a gesture, but a subtle shift in the mattress. Just enough for your weight to balance more evenly. 

You stare up at the ceiling. The wind howls outside.

“...Do you ever wonder if we’ll make it out of this for good?”

He doesn’t answer with words.

Instead, he reaches out slowly, signing towards you.

“I hope so. Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

You watch his gloved hand linger for a second before resting. No words. Just that.

Hope in a situation like this.

It was enough. For now.

[reallyromealone]

Rome you know I'm gonna need a part 2 to that zoro x reader x sanji right cause I can't let that slide😊

Title: goodbye love

Fandom: one piece

Characters: Zoro, Sanji

Fic type: angst

Pairings: Zoro x sanji

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, angst, aggressive conversation, sad reader

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(name) hummed as he stocked bread in a small bakery, it had been five months since he left and he felt lighter and happier since the breakup. He was far from the island they docked from, getting a job easily at a bakery in a small coastal town.

Occasionally he wondered how his now ex boyfriends were, how they reacted to the letter... Were they sad? Angry? Did they even care? (Name) Didn't know and slowly stopped caring. He was starting fresh, leaving the pirate life to have something more domestic and stable though getting used to land was a bit tough.

"(Name), you work too much, go home early" the elderly bakery owner said softly, her cane tapping against the old wood with each step "are you sure? I don't mind being here" (name) asked her, (bakery owner) chuckled as she led him out "the rush is over, not many people will come today"

"Alright, but just get one of the kids to get me if it gets busy"

"Yes yes, now go!"

(Name) Chuckled as he was kicked out of the store, she was old but strong.

'with this extra time, might as well grab some stuff from the market' he thought as he went back to his place to grab some bags and coin, the walk calm and the gulls squawked as they flew overhead, the town was on the side of a huge hill, winding and full of turns, small but popular. It was perfect.

His apartment was small, he was surprised to have a one bedroom, a fireplace for cooking and even a bit of space for seating. His bed was the most expensive thing he owned, he saw it at the market and immediately got it. It was a futon, comfiest thing he ever slept on and he even got pillows. It was pricy but thankfully he had a fair amount of coin from his previous employment.

He only slept on wood or a hammock.

It was a nice adjustment.

The market was the biggest thing beside the town square, many vendors and travellers in and out selling everything and anything one could need.

(Name) Loved getting fruits from other places, one a trip as a treat for himself, today he got something called an apple, typically he's used to mango and jackfruit on this island so it was a nice change.

(Name) Made a few purchases, important house things and a few little trinkets for himself.

A book from a far away land.

An apple.

Some sewing needles and thread as he wished to learn to sew better.

And finally, a little music box.

It was nothing fancy but the sound it played reminded him of childhood, his mother would hum a tune quite similar to it.

What he didn't expect to see was a familiar boat.

"Shit" (name) immediately rushed home, he wasn't ready to face anything at the moment and definitely not with how he left.

(Name) Was shaking as he got inside, glancing out the window of his apartment to see if they are close to his home, irrational be knew but he had to check. Thankfully the street just had a few passersby and no strawhats. He would have to avoid anywhere that sold alcohol for a while, most restaurants and thankfully he was off for the next few days so he didn't have to go to the bakery. (Name) Looked at his collection of books and the sewing supplies and sighed happily.

Guess he has to stay inside and do the things he enjoy.

What a shame.

(Name) Spent the day doing his hobbies as a tiny radio played music in the corner, thankfully this small town had a radio station so he could enjoy some sound.

Knock knock knock.

(Name) Was engrossed in his quilt as he looked up curiously, setting his project down to go down to answer the door, a staircase down to the front door "hello (name), I thought you would enjoy some bread" his boss said kindly and handed him a basket of breads and a few muffins "ah thanks boss, that's real kind of you" the two made small talk casually, the elderly woman happy he's starting a new project "I have some sewing supplies at my home, I'm to old to use them but you can have them" the woman ushered him to follow and (name) realized he would have to leave his house.

Shit.

Silently begrudgingly he followed her, the woman excited to have someone take the supplies.

Then he smelt it half way to the bakery, cigarettes and fresh made food.

"(Name)?" He didn't turn around as his boss looked back curious, Sanji staring at his ex in awe.

(Name) Looked different.

Glowing, lighter and most of all; happier.

(Name) Turned to see his ex and sighed "hello Sanji" this is why he didn't want to go outside, his ex boyfriend looking hurt at the lack of sweet names for him, stopping closer he saw the uncomfortable expression wash over him "Luffy is gone to go get some food, have you.... (Name)" Zoro halted, staring at (name) like salvation.

(Name) Was startled at how awful the two looked, like they barely slept and sanji looked almost dead inside "can we talk?" His voice gravelly with exhaustion and (name) looked to his boss who smiled "we can talk later, you do what you need to do"

And that's how (name) ended up with the two in his apartment "So what do you guys want" (name) said less of a question and more of a demand, clearly uncomfortable "seems you settled down nice" Zoro commented as he looked at the homey space "I have" (name) stared at them unimpressed "why did you leave?" Sanji finally spoke up and the room grew more tense.

"I couldn't stay any longer, not with you two"

"Why?!" Zoro snapped and (name) had enough "because you two didn't care!" (Name) Fired back angrily "you two acted like I didn't exist! Flirting with women and ignoring me to do anything else! Who in their right mind WOULD WANT THAT! DID YOU EVEN LOVE ME?!"

It was silent as (name) heaved out a dog "I gave you two everything! And I get cheating and neglect!"

The two pirates barely had time to react as (name) lost his shit on them "why didn't you love me?" (Name) Finally asked, shaking and angry "why was it never me? You two showed more love to women and fucking swords than me!"

"I-im sorry..." Sanji whispered and (name) looked him in the eye "then why did you look at Nami in a way that you could never look at me?"

Zoro fidgeted, knowing he was next and in a rare moment... He was nervous.

"And why was I not worth spending time with?" There it was "you come here demanding to speak with me yet the time we dated you couldn't even be bothered to do the most basic of things with me"

"(Name)--"" I think you two should leave" (name) finally said "I have no interest in this conversation anymore... Goodbye "

"(Name) Come on-"" leave now, I'm begging you"

The two sorrowfully walk down the stairs, unable to get a word in as the door slammed behind them.

And at that moment they truly realized.

They lost (name).

[sdmnpact]

hey! are you opened to requests?

if so. can you write something where harry keeps forgetting important events with reader (one of them being their anniversary). after being stood up again, y/n is done and leaves harry. y/n decides to leave the country in which harry has to grovel and find where she is. (harry once said he travelled boarders for a girl). no one is helping him do so because all of their friends like her and think he fucked yo big time.

Travel.

Wroetoshaw x Reader angst

A/n: There are going to be a lot of pov changes and time jumps. Sorry if it gets confusing but I still hope you enjoy!! This one is really long and personally I really like it ♡

~~~

《 Y/n's Pov 》

I sat there alone for the last hour. The patrons came and went while I sat there filling up on the free bread. I could feel the sorry expressions people had towards me. I could tell the wait staff needed to kick me out but they felt just as bad. They would come every now and then to check if I was ready to order.

It was quite evident that I was here to meet someone. Someone who would never arrive. Someone who couldn't even send me a message about what happened. About why they weren't here on all days.

I was just about ready to leave. I was embarrassed to say the least. A sad story about a girl who sat at a restaurant alone for an hour. It's ridiculous. It's not like I didn't try calling, he just wouldn't answer. Maybe something happened to him? Maybe he got busy. Either way, I was done waiting. I felt bad about just leaving like this after I waited for so long without ordering.

I only waited this long because I had hope he would arrive. Hope he would walked through those doors holding a bouquet and a story about why he was so late. It was foolish of me to think this way, after its happened so many times before. I should just be used to it at this point but a part of me is still just a lovesick fool.

>>>

I took an Uber back to our shared flat. Our shared flat. A place that was supposed to be comforting to me, but I did not want to be there. I wanted to go literally anywhere else.

I stood in front of the door, debating if I should go in or not. Maybe I can go to a friend's house? Even sleeping on a park bench would be better. I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to be in the same room as him.

I finally mustered up the courage to open the door. I heard a faint noise coming from inside as I unlocked it and opened it partially.

His shoes sat near the door, letting me know he was home. I walked inside and into the living room, seeing the TV lit up and Harry sat on the couch in his golf clothes.

"Hey baby." His words seemingly emotionless as he continued watching the television, not even turning to look at me. I didn't respond, I just went straight to our room.

I went to the closet and took out a suitcase, placing it open on the bed. I quickly began taking my stuff out of the closet and drawers. Not many things, just anything that I thought was important and a couple changes of clothes.

I heard footsteps and the door open more as I had partially closed it. "What are you doing?" He said with concern in his voice. I turned around to face him, tears that I hadn't realized I've been holding in finally being released upon laying eyes on him. "Baby, what's wrong?" He said coming closer trying to grab my hand. I coldly pulled it away.

"What's wrong? Harry do you know what day it is?" He didn't seem phased and just shook his head. "Wednesday?" He questioned, sounding unsure.

"You bastard." I said turning back around grabbing more things and quickly shoving them into my suitcase finally finishing and closing it.

"Seriously y/n, what's the matter?" He sounded genuinely upset like he was about to cry. "Why are you packing?"

"IT'S OUR ANNIVERSARY!" I finally shouted at him. "It's our anniversary. You know, it's only the day we met and fell in love, or so I thought." I said my voice breaking as I spoke those words.

"No it's not- I thought it was next week?" He said rushing over to the calendar that was sitting on the bedside table. I had clearly noted that it was our anniversary on there, drawing hearts all over that little square yet he didn't notice.

"Oh shit." He muttered under his breath.

"You do this all the time Harry. All the fucking time! You forget everything. How could you forget this! The most important day ever. I forgave you when you forgot my birthday, I forgave you when you forgot to pick me up from the airport, and I forgave you when you had to travel for a sidemen video and I went to my best friend's wedding alone but this! This is a new low, even for you." I finished storming out of the room with my luggage in hand.

"Baby please, I can change." Those meaningless words left his mouth as he rushed behind me grabbing my hand. "You've used that line already. What was even your excuse this time? You said you had a sidemen shoot and I understand that but why are you wearing your golf clothes!?" I said, hot tears streaming down my face as I pulled my hand away again.

"I went golfing with Simon and Josh afterwards." He said quietly. "Just great. I'm done now." I said opening the door and slamming it behind me. I walked down the hallway quickly.

"Y/N! Wait!" He said opening the door coming down after me. The lift opened and I got in quickly, closing the door and hitting the 1st floor button. I saw the tears streaming down his face right before the doors closed. I wiped at my own face, my makeup coming off all over my hands.

I got into the first taxi I saw. I think ill just go to a hotel for the night. I don't want to ask a friend because I don't want to burden them with this. I'll just figure it all out by myself.

>>>

I woke up the next day, my head banging and my face stiff as the tears hardened. I cried myself to sleep last night after checking into a hotel. I couldn't stop myself and just let the tears flow until I eventually fell asleep.

I reached over for my phone. I turned it on revealing the tons of messages and missed calls from Harry and a couple friends. I guess he called everyone he thought I would be with. I had about 59 missed calls and 72 text messages just from Harry. I wish he had put that much effort into our relationship.

I wasn't going to call him back, I was done. I've had enough. I've always been second, it was always the sidemen and his career first. Maybe he didn't have time for a relationship anymore. Those three years were just nothing. All that time we had spent together was for absolutely nothing. It's a good thing I know now.

Last night, as I lay there crying, I thought about what my future was. I thought we would spend the rest of our lives together. That's just how in love I am with him, well was.

Now that doesn't matter. Now I need to focus on myself. I don't want to live here anymore, I need to leave the uk scene. Maybe travel, explore the world. I have some savings that I was saving for our future but I guess this is my future. I've always wanted to see other countries. I've spent my whole life in the uk, I've only traveled twice with Harry to the Maldives and Dubai.

This is the start of my new life.

---

《 Harry's Pov 》

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

How the fuck could I be SO stupid! How could I do this to her.

Harry: Mate, have you heard from Y/n?

I sent that text to about everyone I know. Where the hell is she? I've been up all night worrying about her. No one knows where she's at. Fuck.

Why am I like this? I just lost the greatest thing that ever happened to me.

There was a knock on my door. I ran over to check if it was Y/n. No. It was just Ethan and Josh.

"Hey boys." I said as I opened the door letting them in.

"Jesus, Harry you look horrible." Josh said as they sat on the couch. I walked over to a mirror. My eyes were bloodshot and there were dried tears all over my face.

"Well, I've been worried sick over this. Speaking of, did you hear from her or did your girls?" I said hoping she would have contacted one their girlfriends as she was pretty close with them, especially Freya.

"No, sorry mate." Ethan said as they both shook their heads. I ran my hands through my hair plopping onto the couch.

"Boys how could I have done this? How could this have happened?" I felt the tears beginning to fall again.

"Harry, I don't know if you can fix this, but if you do. You need to be better. You can never let this happen again." Josh said with a serious tone. "I know and if I get her back, I promise I'll treat her like the queen she is."

>>>>>

** three months later **

《 Y/n's Pov》

"Thats amazing! They are really such majestic creatures!" I said smiling at the tour guide. I was in Africa on a safari. The tour guide was talking about the elephants that were grazing nearby. They're so much larger up close. They could step on a human like we step on ants. Nature is just beautiful.

I had created an Instagram account where I post about my travels. I said I would never be a travel influencer but I couldnt help sharing my experiences. They are so eye opening and this massive world we live in is just incredible.

The elephants were the last stop on this safari and now it was time to go back to the hotel.

>

I made it back and plopped onto the bed looking through all my pictures. This is by far my favorite place I've been to. The last three months were insane! I went to France, Mexico and now Africa. I wouldn't trade these experiences for anything in the world. My life was going great.

There was a knock on the door. I didn't order room service or anything so I wonder who it is. I got up and opened the door. My face immediately fell and I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Y/n!?" Harry said, his voice shaking.

"How did you find me!?" I shrieked. I've tried to hide where I was, only sharing with very close friends. The account I made was anonymous so no one should have known it was me.

"It wasn't easy but I finally found your instagram. I knew it was you based on what you told me last year. You said you've always wanted to visit France, Mexico, and Africa. Your account was on your tagged pics and I knew based on the way you wrote that it was you." Damn it. I guess I accidentially tagged my personal instagram handle. I had a long flight that day and I was quite tired.

"Okay well, it was nice seeing you I guess but now you have to leave." I said trying to shut the door.

"Wait-" He said holding the door open. I sighed as I opened the door wider. I placed a hand on my hip waiting for his response.

"Y/n, I've been searching for you for months. I've missed you so much. I would have kept searching for you for the rest of my life if it's what it took to find you." He said. I rolled my eyes but felt my heart flutter. As annoyed as I was with his presence, deep down, I still have feelings for him.

"Can I come in so we can talk?" He said, his eyes pleading. I sighed a bigger sigh but let him in, not saying a word. I sat on the bed grabbing a donkey plushie I had bought in Mexico.

"Cute." He said smiling. "Yeah- so what do you have to say then?" I said wanting him to hurry up.

"Y/n, listen. I'm a stupid jerk who really doesn't deserve a second chance or to even be with a person as amazing as you. But, I can't let you go without a fight. I love you, I have always loved you. You were the missing piece in my life. Before we met, I was nothing. I might as well have not even existed but you came into my life as a light. A light that shined so brightly. All these years we've been together have been the best years of my entire life. I know I haven't been the best partner and I can't change the past but I can change the future. I promise you that I will be different. I will only breathe for you. You will be my entire life. Nothing else will matter. I'll even quit the sidemen if that's what it takes to not lose you. I seriously adore you so much and want to keep you in my life forever. Please, just consider it." He finished, tears streaming down his face.

I felt hot tears streaming down my face as well. I don't know about this. I don't want us to spiral back into this cycle but, I still love him. I don't know if I will ever love someone like I loved him. Can I go back to this life? I like my life now. Being able to go and do whatever I want at a moments notice is so freeing but being with the love of my life is also something I deserve.

"I don't know, I don't know if I can believe that for certain-"

"I know! I know. But please trust me, trust that I can change. If I don't then you can leave and I will never contact you again." His face looked desperate.

My mind doesn't know what I want to do, but my heart wants to say yes. I want him back but I don't know if I can handle heartbreak again.

"Come back tomorrow and I will tell you." I said unable to think about it while I look at him. He nodded, getting up. "I love you." He said as he left the room closing the door behind him.

This is gonna be a rough 24 hours.

>>>

** two weeks ago **

《 Harry's pov 》

"Please just tell me where she is!" I pleaded to just about everyone I knew.

Currently I was at her best friends house asking if she could let me know where Y/n was.

"She doesn't want to see you and I'm not gonna be the one to tell you where she is!" She said shutting the door in my face. My shoulders dropped as I went to the car. I sat in it contemplating what I should do next. Maybe I should just stop and hope she comes back home. Most of her stuff is still at our flat so she has to come back for it. Right?

I pulled out my phone and checked her Instagram. She hasn't posted anything on any of her socials. It's like she vanished into thin air. I looked through her tagged pictures to see if anyone spotted her.

I've had the best time in Mexico!! Stay tuned because I'm on the way to the third country on my most wanted places to visit list!! Africa!! 🤭💚

The pictures and the caption were on her tags as it tagged her on it. This is exactly what I needed. I quickly drove home and packed a backpack of essentials while I booked the first flight I could get to Africa.

---

** Present **

《 Y/n's Pov 》

It was the next day and I have been debating all night on what I should do. I've been going back and forth on my decision because I don't want to make the wrong one.

There was a knock on the door. It was time.

I walked over and opened the door. Harry was standing there holding a bouquet of flowers, my favorite flowers.

"Hey, can I come in?" He asked. I nodded as he handed me the flowers walking in. "These are for you." He smiled widely. I took them, taking a huge whiff. "Thank you."

We sat down on the little loveseat that was in the room. "So, have you made a decision yet? No pressure." He smiled looking at me with the cutest puppy eyes.

"Yes." Seeing him again was the confirmation I needed. "I'll come back- but you seriously have to work on yourself, I don't want to be second anymore. You don't have to quit the sidemen, I would never want that. I just want you to focus on me a bit more. I don't have to be your main priority but I need to be a priority." I smiled. Tears began to well up in my eyes, his as well.

"One hundred percent, my darling. You will be my main priority no matter what. I love you so much and I will do whatever it takes to have you happy and in my arms forever." He said taking a hold of my hand. I put my hand up to his face wiping away the tears. Both of us were crying to eachother but we were finally together again.

"I love you, y/f/n y/l/n."

"And I love you Harry Lewis."

>>>>>

** 1 year later **

《 Y/n's Pov 》

Harry and I were finally happy. After that situation, I came back to the uk with him, well after spending a week in Africa together because I still had a whole list of things I wanted to do.

He supported me through all of it, giving his full attention to me. Even now, I still run my travel account and travel to a new city every other month. Of course Harry joins me and sometimes he misses Sidemen shoots and I've told him he didn't have to but he insists.

He, in fact, did change. He gives me so much attention now, some would say too much. He loves traveling with me and supporting everything I do. I'm so grateful to have him in my life again.

"You ready, babe?" He said grabbing my bag. We were on our way to another city in another country. "Always." I smiled kissing his cheek. He smiled kissing my lips lightly. "I love you so much." He said grabbing my hand and rubbing circles into the back of it.

"And I love you."

[blue-jisungs]

wounds

author's note. let’s gaur another zoro piece ☝️

++ i stated it before, i’ll say it again: i never watched the og opla! i think there was a medic? but yns is a medic here so i just hope like,, it makes sense? also if some characters are ooc, i’m sorry!! i’m still slowly learning about them hehe

summary. zoro realised his feelings for you through unfortunate events, whereas you come to a conclusion that his actions speak louder than words

word count. 3k-ish

warnings. oh boy. violence, swearing, blood, a guy throws a weird comment or two at reader, reader gets called bitch :( , m*n, medical stuff but nothing too crazy since i’m not a professional, daggers (stabbing), yn being kinda an idiot for trusting strangers, brief mention of drugs ++ pls lmk if i missed anything 🙏

zoro stole a glance at you, the soft rocking of the ship causing some bottles with strangely-looking fluids to move around your desk. luffy grinned and patted you on your back, causing a small smile to bloom on your lips.

“so, we’re arriving in a moment. let’s get the meds we need and have some free time! How does that sound?” he asked with enthusiasm.

���and i’ll buy some fresh ingredients. i would lose my mind if i had to work with almost-rotten vegetables for even a day longer…” sanji grunted, causing zoro to roll his eyes “is our medic craving something special?”

“hmm, maybe… what about a sweet pudding? i haven’t eaten one in a while” you hummed. luffy’s eyes shone with excitement. sanji winked, drawing a disgusted face from the green-haired man.

“your wish is my command. and you, mosshead, should respect this lady more. she’s really saving our asses” the blond haired man commented.

the truth was, it was mostly sanji or usopp who you were saving. while zoro made it safe and sound out of his fights, so did luffy and nami. usopp, well, he was more on the clumsy side, while sanji occasionally had some wounds when he accidentally cut or burned himself while cooking. after almost losing zoro, the crew knew that a medic would be a useful addition to the crew… and just one day luffy found you on your island, working as a volunteer in a local health care centre. and persuaded you into joining them. (a certain tall, green-haired man also had an influence on your choice).

“we arrived!” usopp suddenly bursted into the room. you grabbed your bag and looked around the room.

“does anyone want to go with me?” you asked.

“to buy meds and smell herbs? i’d rather take a nap” zoro mumbled and lazily left the room, secretly hoping sanji would turn down your offer too.

“i’ll go with sanji! maybe they’ll have some local food to offer…” luffy hummed. you nodded and then all three of you left going merry.

usopp left later, causing nami and zoro to be the only ones left.

as you strolled around the cozy city, you took in the sight of people and the sound of the rustle. living on a ship can get quite lonely sometimes, so you enjoyed the chaos of the town. even though zoro kept you company most of the time. he’d just… come into your room and watch you brew tea for sanji or study your medical books. you both enjoyed such closeness, even if not a word was said. sure, you had conversations too - and you were surprised to realise how funny zoro is. you couldn’t lie, you were aware that you have a crush on him. zoro though, seemed uninterested. like now, just saying that he’ll pass. his answer made you a little disappointed - besides buying new meds, you were hoping for some time alone with zoro.

“well, he’s the one missing out” you mumbled t6o yourself and shook your head as if to get the swordsman off your mind.

suddenly, you smelled a delicious aroma of fresh bread. walking closer to one of the shops, you realised it’s a bakery. maybe you’ll grab a snack and ask if there’s any herbalists around…? sounds like an idea.

when you disappeared inside the local, someone smiled mischievously and backed away to return to his boss.

“... herbs?” the man repeated, thinking out loud. he didn’t look like a regular bakery employee but you ignored that. he was selling delicious chocolate buns! “down the road. there’s a pharmacy but we do have a local herb seller, he wanders in the woods often. after i’m done with my shift, i can lead you to him”

“oh, that would be great! i’ll go to the pharmacy then and be back!” you hummed, smiling. what a nice guy!

you spent way more time in the pharmacy than you intended to: the lady working there was really lovely and professional, the products she was selling were top quality. you chatted about meds and certain ingredients, shared recipes. and when you mentioned that you use some herbs to make teas, she seemed intrigued so you explained to her the purpose.

in the end, you left with two more bags than you planned to. while returning to the bakery, the sun started to set; sky was painted in deep oranges with purple strokes, announcing the farewell of the bright day.

“sorry i was late…” you started and saw the guy get up immediately. he had a slight frown on his face.

“no worries. let’s go” he mumbled and grabbed your wrist, urging you to leave. you stiffened and your jaw clenched but you followed him, too curious about the herbs to let an alarm ring in your head.

“why does he wander in the woods?” you asked quietly, observing how people closed their stalls and shops in hurry before it gets completely dark.

“dunno. he’s just a weirdo. probably there’s a lot of wild plants there” he huffed. nodding to yourself, you gulped. good thing he’s accompanying you, it wouldn’t be too safe to walk around the woods alone, at night.

after what felt like hours, you realised you left the city far behind. the sky was decorated with blinking stars, open navy sky embracing you.

“i… is it far away?” you mumbled, stopping in your tracks. he turned around, the darkness surrounding you didn’t allow to read his facial expression.

“five more minutes, i promise” he said… his voice more calm now.

“o-okay. i need to go soon, so we better be quick” a quiet murmur left your mouth. you started to regret not urging zoro to go with you.

the man was right; you soon enough found yourself in the middle of woods.

“so… um, where’s the guy?” you asked, looking around. your hands started to hurt from the bags you had to carry. besides, there was a rumbling in your stomach.

“he’ll show up in a second, trust me. so, what did you buy in the pharmacy?” he asked.

luffy entered the ship, humming something underneath his breath, with sanji carrying a bag. usopp looked at them curious.

“so, what didya buy?” he asked, almost jumping out of his seat “what are we having for dinner?”

“something fancy, for sure. i still need to think about it. we’re having a pudding for dessert though because y/n wanted it… speaking of which, is she in her room? i forgot to ask if she wanted a vanilla or a chocolate one”

“what?” zoro asked, stopping in his tracks, swords halting mid-air. the guys looked at each other.

“what ‘what?’? we thought she was back already” luffy blinked slowly and noticed nami approach.

“she didn’t, i thought she joined you” usopp stuttered and shifted his gaze to zoro “didn’t you leave at some point too?”

“yeah, to look around? but there was nothing interesting to do so i came back and took a nap…?” he mumbled.

“you did not just let y/n wander around here” nami said, fear in her voice.

“well, apparently, we did” luffy gasped “why?”

“this city is like, known for being totally not-women safe. especially after dark! that’s why i didn’t want to go there, luffy” she hissed “and why i didn’t leave the ship! god! y/n can’t even f–”

“she’ll be okay, she can fight–” usopp started.

“fight” nami finished.

“y/n can’t fight…?” zoro’s heart skipped a beat.

“there’s no time to explain. we should go look for her, idiots!” nami grunted. zoro, full of regret and worry, followed her. he wasn’t sure why he got so scared why nami said that but all he knew for now is that he had to find you.

you didn’t even realise when that happened. a group of muscular and tattooed men appeared from nowhere, not looking like herb enthusiasts at all.

“so this is the pretty lady, huh?” one of them stepped out. he was bald and definitely scary-looking “you have something we want… but before i take it, tell me. is this your first time here?”

you nodded weakly when he approached you.

“and it will be her last!” one of them snickered, drawing laughs from the rest.

“aren’t you a cute little thing, trusting strangers in a city you’ve never been to… ah” he laughed and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes “why did you buy poppy seeds?”

“t-to make medicine…” you stuttered. you noticed the one from bakery standing behind the bald one’s back.

“medicine! ha! you’re pretty funny! you know what we make here out of poppy seeds?” he hummed, leaning in way too close to your liking. you could smell his nasty breath, your hands going limp. you dropped the bags, its content spilling around your legs “drugs”

you gulped and tried to move back but he yanked you by your wrist. this action caused you to bump into his chest.

“so, we’ll take them. and the other goodies you bought, too. and then… we’ll take you!” he laughed.

shaking your head, you pushed him away and tried to run away.

you failed, a sharp yank of your shirt causing you to trip and fall on the ground.

“by take i mean two things” the bald man chuckled and kneeled down, looking for the poppy seeds amongst the scattered products.

you tried to crawl away when he did so, heart thumping against your ribcage. if only you could fight… you wouldn’t be so scared and-

“where do you think are you going?” he growled and pulled you back by your leg. your head hit the ground, a unpleasant tinnitus-alike sound overtaking your ears.

“leave me alone!” you yelled out. the man must have said or do something that caused two other guys to grab your hands and tie them.

“only after i’m done with you!” he grunted and suddenly you felt his weight over you, caging you between the ground. starting to squirm around and kick, you were yelling your throat out; tears starting to spill from your eyes. “shut up, bitch!”

then you felt it. a sudden, stinging pain spreading in the left side of your face.

he just hit you.

the impact was so strong that you immediately felt the blood trickle from your nose.

“i’d hate to kill you because after we’re done, we’d sell you… but if you keep squirming…” he grunted and leaned in. he put a hand on your hair and stroked it gently. he leaned to your ear and licked your earlobe before adding: “then i’ll have to slit your throat”

you hoped that the scream you just left out was hearable from afar.

“get off her right now or its your throat that’s going to be slit first”

you gasped, trying to look for the source of the voice: zoro. zoro is here. or are you dreaming?

“and who the fuck are you?” the bald man said and laughed, his hand landing on your neck “i’ll do whatever i want”

his fingers tightened the grip on your neck. he was either lucky or skilled enough to know which places to squeeze because you felt your flow of oxygen being cut off.

“says who?” zoro huffed and with one swift move yankled the man by his shirt and got him off you. taking a deep breathe in, your vision went blurry - it was either the tears or the result of sitting up too fast.

“you’re a real piece of shit to attack girls, huh” zoro grunted and after effortlessly defeating another one of the bald man’s minions. the swordsman wanted to destroy the others, let them suffer and die in pain. normally, he’d take his time.

but it was about you. which made it even worse – he wanted to kill them slowly, one by one… demolish to the ground because they hurt you. then again, he wanted to make it quick so he can check if you’re alright as fast as possible.

and just when only the boss was left, he heard your scream. one that was full of pure pain.

turning his head back, but not losing focus from the guy, he saw one of them stand above you. he must have slipped away when he was busy with the bald guy but…

then he saw it, shining in the moonlight.

the dagger’s blade shun with silver tints, stuck in your ribcage.

zoro didn’t hold back. it took one swift move to throw one of his swords right between the attacker’s eyes and one precise move to synchronise both of his hands, cutting the bald’s man body in half.

then he ran up to you, grabbing you in his arms gently. your face looked pale, whether it was the moonlight or just the color draining off your face.

“don’t take this out” you grunted, moving your hand to his arm “and… take the meds…”

“fuck the meds, you’re bleeding” for the first time in ages zoro felt helpless. and disappointment in himself. you tried to scoff, the action bringing more pain to your body than you predicted

“don’t… the meds are just as important” your voice went quieter and quieter; zoro noticed that you struggled to keep your eyes open. which was, he assumed, a bad sign.

“don’t pass out on me, okay? keep it together, doctor” the green haired man breathed out and in one swift move he carried you in a bridal style. someone from the crew was supposed to arrive here too, if he passes them by he’ll just say that they need to take the meds.

zoro felt your body going limp in his arms, his heart dropping. running for his (and your) life, careful enough not to hurt you, he felt the strange heavy sensation in his chest.

for the next two days, a sinking feeling of guilt in zoro’s stomach wouldn’t go away. you were unconscious, the atmosphere on the going merry was tense.

“we didn’t know she can’t fight. if we did, we’d obviously accompany her” sanji grunted, hands never stoping mixing whatever he was mixing.

“why y/n never told us?” luffy sighed, voice small. as a captain, he felt disappointed he wasn’t able to protect you. on the other hand, he was glad you’re here now. nami bit her lip and looked at zoro.

“she didn’t want to seem weak” the orange-haired girl explained “i promised her i’ll teach her some basic moves but… we never…”

usopp entered the room, he was just talking to your unconscious state. well, more like to himself but–

“the doctor said she’ll be okay, right?” he asked, sitting next to zoro.

they figured that if you got medication somehow, there must be someone who knows at least has basic medical knowledge. in no time usopp came back with a pharmacist that talked to you – the lady was really saddened by your wounds too.

she scolded them for letting you go on your own (as if zoro haven’t already made a mental promise to himself to never do that again) and then proceeded to take care of you, telling them to change the bandages and apply some meds.

zoro left the dining space and slowly padded to the captain’s room. they figured that i’d only be safer if you stayed in a more stable position (rather than a hammock) for the time being.

entering the room, he stopped in his tracks upon seeing you… sitting at the edge of the mattress, changing your own bandage. sweat was dripping down your forehead, face pale.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked calmly, stepping closer to you. your eyes widened, meeting his.

“hi” you breathed out, shaky fingers halting.

“hi” zoro replied softly and then suddenly placed his hands on your arms, gently pushing you to sit against the wall.

then he grabbed the old bandage and threw it away. he desinfected his hands with a special liquid and grabbed new bandage.

“how long have you been up?” he asked, looking at the wound. it still needed some healing but it wasn’t open and bleeding anymore.

“dunno, moments from usopp’s leave. how… how long i’ve been asleep though?” you asked wearily and pointed at a cream on the nightstand “apply this first, then the bandage”

“two days” zoro replied, grabbing the container with a herbal smell. he was trying to find a good way to word out his worries, but (as usual) they came out harsher than he intended “why didn’t you tell us you can’t fight?”

a heavy sigh left your mouth, which caused a glimpse of pain run through your face.

“i just didn’t want to be a burden” you mumbled. the man noted the slight difference of what you said and what nami said your reasoning was.

zoro’s calloused yet tender fingers applied the cooling substance on your wound. you hissed due to the sting, your hand flying to grab his free one.

“you’re not weak nor a burden” he said, letting you squeeze his hand; he didn’t mind and found it quite… warming “i will teach you”

you smiled. he didn’t offer, he didn’t insist. he stated that.

“thank you. and i’m sorry for scaring you all like that” a whisper left your lips, watching as zoro started to put the bandage now. you leaned a bit closer so he could wrap it around your back, causing your breath to hit his neck. zoro tried to stay focused, the sudden realisation of how close you were making him hyper-aware.

“you scared some of us to death” he answered suddenly “next time just… don’t be such an idiot. if it weren’t for me…”

“humble as always” you snickered and watched him finish bandaging you.

“i…” the green-haired man hesitated. for a moment your eyes met and you saw it in the mirror of his ebony irises: i’m sorry. i was worried. so fucking scared and angry, feeling guilty and terrified. he smiled gently “just don’t do this again, m’kay?”

“i’ll try. and… thank you for saving me” you returned his smile.

you stayed like that for a moment, your hand still on his. too afraid to move, to speak out – yet the silence was speaking volumes.

roronoa zoro cared for you.

he just didn’t know how to say it out loud yet.

but just like wounds, he needed some time. and you were - oh so - willing to give him it.

masterlist <3