valeecruz16

[valeecruz16]

"Here," you said handing over the baby. "You left this in my vagina!"

"You begged for it." He casually said, holding the baby.

[valeecruz16]

𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 | Joel Miller x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | You've patched up Joel countless times before, but this is different.

author's note | i'm taking a little break to work through some series and pre-write but i needed to write a little fix it fic for my own well being. ANYWHO, if you're reading this, thank you <3 and thank you to @chaotic-mystery for the beta read, love you bitch

content warning | hurt/comfort, fix-it-fic, jackson!joel, s2ep2 spoilers, established relationship, medic!reader, wound tending, mentions of leg injury and some face injuries, old man joel using a cane, flirting, fluff, kissing, i'm going to go cry again

word count — 3.8k

He’s breathing. Alive.

You’ve patched up Joel countless times - cuts and gashes that were too far out of reach for him to handle on his own, a busted ankle from a construction project gone wrong, the occasional painkiller to help with his aching bones. He was a regular within the clinic, like most of the patrol team. And he was your favorite, which wasn’t a secret.

But, this was different.

Tommy - as hard as he tried, attempted to shelter you with the rest of Jackson’s women and children, but it was useless.

You spent the last hour patching up the towns wounded and helping lay to the rest some of the less fortunate, but brave people who had attempted to defend Jackson from the impending horde.

In the chaos of cleaning up bloodied bandages and used medical supplies, the front door to the clinic sounds, bells ringing out so deafening it makes your heart stop.

And the sound of Tommy’s panicked voice as he called out your name.

When you turn the corner to catch sight of him, it was Tommy and Jesse carrying a limp, sleeping Joel on a makeshift gurney and equally injured Ellie holding tight to her ribs as Dina and Maria supported her weight, your eyes widening in shock.

“Fuck—I—what happened?” you ask, immediately sliding the supplies off of the only semi-available operating table you had in the office - it used to be a veterinary clinic, but the town was making do with what they had.

“You save my goddamn brother,” Tommy demanded, his tone riddled with an emotional pain you couldn’t fathom, taking the order in stride as you nodded and put your own curiosity aside, slowly accessing the weight of the situation and surmising that this had been an ambush, more or less, “alright?”

You access his knee, jeans matted with blood around his festering wound, his leg tourniqueted by a belt that Tommy explains wasn’t there doing, rather the attackers. His pulse is steady as your fingers over his femoral artery once you’ve cut his jeans open further with the scissors.

“El—Ellie,” your voice shakes slightly, looking over your shoulder to catch her grimace as she hunched over further in pain, “she needs—”

“I’ve got her,” Maria assures you and Tommy, who was understandably only focused on Joel.

You don’t waste another second, working around Tommy on instinct while Jesse followed the girls to the back room, a gentle but reassuring hand on your shoulder as he passes by.

Your hands move gently over his wound, mind racing through every step of triage and trauma care as if your nerves hadn’t already been shot an hour ago. You didn’t know how many wounds you’ve treated today, but Joel’s was the worst—and unspeakably, the most important.

The wound is bad. Deep.

Frayed flesh around the spread of the bullet, a shotgun you can assume, already turning an angry red. The steps were simple, fortunately. You’ll have to clean it out, maybe even dig if the bullet fragments were lodged in deep. 

His face is a mosaic of bruises and dried blood, and he hasn’t stirred once.

That—more than the sight of the injury itself—makes something in your chest clench.

Tommy’s gripping the table tight, white knuckling as his jaw clenched in worry.

“Do I want to know?” you ask softly.

Tommy shakes his head slightly, “Ellie ain’t said much—jus’ know whatever the problem was, it isn’t one anymore.”

“He’s gonna need blood,” you explain to him as you work quietly but carefully on the wound, grateful that most of the issue was at the surface and that with enough time to heal and consistent check-ins, Joel would recover.

Undoubtedly with a limp, but you knew Joel—he’d manage.

The quiet is unsettling, though.

He should be fighting this. Groaning. Cursing. Something.

But he’s still.

Too still.

Tommy stays rooted in place like he’s afraid Joel will vanish if he lets go.

Part of you carries that fear, too.

With the attack on Jackson, everything seemed up in the air.

“I need you to keep your hand here,” you say firmly, guiding his hand to the artery in his leg, feeling the steady pulse underneath your fingertips. “Count the beats, focus. If it slows, weakens—don’t wait, tell me.”

Tommy nods, jaw still clenched tight.

He’s got blood dripping from a cut in his brow, covered in dirt and grime, streaks on his face from the tears he was shedding quietly, it was your only attempt to busy his mind.

You work diligently, more focused than you had been all evening.

Forceps clink against the metal tray as you dig out fragments, your breath hitching every time Joel twitches—barely, like his body’s fighting beneath layers of pain and unconsciousness.

You glance toward the IV stand that was taped to hell, barely holding on.

Just like everything else in Jackson at the moment – like Joel.

“I’m gonna flush the wound,” you murmur more to yourself than Tommy, gripping the saline syringe with steady hands. “Then I’ll stitch it. Antibiotics to be safe. He’ll need pain meds and I need to work on the cuts to his face, but I want his body to rest. We have morphine stored away, but I know Joel will probably refuse…”

Tommy doesn’t respond. Just keeps his hand pressed where you told him, eyes locked on Joel’s face like he’s willing him to wake.

“He still needs blood, Tommy,” you remind him, “but I don’t know his blood type.”

“I’m O-negative,” Tommy interjects.

“That works,” you assure him, nodding for him to sit as you grab the supplies to draw Tommy’s blood, unflinching as the needle slips into his vein.

It’s all rather quick, kneeling to hold the bag as it fills while Tommy stares at his brother, looking briefly over your shoulder to catch his breathing, a slow rise and fall.

“He’s gonna be alright,” you assure Tommy, “the worst outcome here is him complaining about having to use a cane, if it comes to that.

Quietly, you tend to the small head wound that Tommy has and he doesn’t even attempt to argue, eyes flickering to your briefly at the gesture, tilting his head up for better access.

You move efficiently, like muscle memory as you tape up his wound before transferring the blood and prepping the line for Joel. 

The line finds Joel’s vein without much resistance, and you secure it with shaking fingers, your breath held as the dark crimson slowly, mercifully begins to flow into his body.

“C’mon, Joel,” you whisper under your breath. “Not you.”

“He was in and out on the way here,” Tommy comments, holding the cotton ball to use the wound as he stands and you quickly return to him to bandage up and pressure the wound, “but now he’s just…still. That ain’t good,”

“It’s the body responding to the pain,” you remind him, “he’s clearly lost a lot of blood, his face is bruised—the important thing is he’s breathing and his pulse is good. Just…let me work on him. Go check on Ellie.”

Tommy hesitates, glancing back at Joel like his feet were already rooted permanently to the floor. Then his eyes shift to yours—tired, firm, unwavering—and he nods, finally stepping away. 

Just far enough to check on Ellie. 

Just long enough to breathe.

The second he’s gone, it’s just you and Joel.

–

The room feels colder without the presence of Tommy’s worry. 

You stitch slowly, methodically, carefully maneuvering around the skin until you are satisfied, constantly eyeing Joel to gauge a reaction, noticing some of his color had returned, hair damp with melted snow.

If he was awake he’d be grumbling and complaining and part of you hates how much you wanted to hear it as you bandage up his knee, assuring that bleeding was under control before you removed the belt on his upper thigh and grabbing a spare blanket to drape over his body as you move down to tend to his face, riddled with cuts and bruises.

You press a hand against his and pull it to his chest, resting gently against the fabric of his shirt. 

His palm is rough, calloused, and warm—thank god, still warm.

You clean the last of the blood from his face, wiping gently along the arc of his brow, around the corner of his eye that was slightly swollen. A bruise is blooming dark down the line of his jaw, but under it—his face is still familiar.

Still him.

After a stretch of time that feels like eternity, Maria and Tommy return to the front room of the clinic, looking fearful as their eyes land on Joel.

“He’s alright,” you assure them both, “he probably needed the rest, too.”

Tommy chuckles weakly at that, “I—we’re…we’re gonna go pick up Benji, but we’ll be back, alright?”

You nod in response, “I’m not leaving until he wakes up Tommy, I promised.”

“I know, kiddo,” Tommy says endearingly, approaching you with arms open slightly, enveloping you into a short hug that were few and far between, “Ellie’s asleep, too. Dina and Jesse are sticking around until she settles.”

The front door clicks shut behind Tommy and Maria, the heavy silence seeping back in soon after.

You don’t move far, bringing a stool to sit beside Joel.

The clinic is dim now, the lights softened by fucky wiring as the evening crept in.

You can hear Jesse’s and Dina’s muffled voice in the back—low and quiet—and the distant creak of the cot Ellie’s curled into. But here, in this room, it’s just you. 

And Joel, and the quiet hum of his breathing.

You reach up to brush a stray bit of hair from his temple, your hand pausing just above his skin.

“You scared the hell out of me,” you whisper. “If you were awake, I’d be screaming at you,”

And you know he’d only smile.

Joel doesn’t respond, but his breathing shifts. 

Not much—just enough to prove he’s still there, riding the edge of sleep and pain.

“You enjoy it, though. You always laugh, I know it’s pointless and that you’re just stubborn as all hell and I’m willing to put up with it,” you push the few strands of hair away from his face and sigh, “guess there’s a reason why you always ask for me.”

A few hours pass, the night creeping in slowly amongst the storm that roared outside.

You glance at his hand after a thorough check-up and redressing his wound for good measure, still resting palm-up where you’d placed it. Hesitant, your fingers slip into his, lacing slowly. 

You wait. No squeeze. 

But, the warmth is enough.

Then, a shift.

A low grunt, almost imperceptible.

Your breath catches. You look up sharply, eyes scanning his face. One eye twitches. His brow furrows just slightly.

“Joel?”

He doesn’t open his eyes, but his mouth moves.

“Ellie?” he asks weakly, squeezing your hand back.

Tears burn your eyes before you can stop them, relief flooding your chest in waves.

You squeeze his hand back again. Tight. “She’s okay—she’s good,” you whisper quickly, wiping your cheek with your sleeve, not that it helps.

Joel breathes out, like the tension’s finally releasing from somewhere deep inside his chest. 

You watch the slow rise and fall of him for a moment, just taking it in. Life.

Then his eyes crack open, albeit one is swollen, but hazy and bloodshot and focused on you.

His brows twitch as he looks at you.

“You cryin’?” he rasps, voice rough but teasing.

Even now, he teases you.

“You worried the hell out of me,” you tell him.

“Did I?” Joel asks genuinely, “M’sorry, darlin’.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

Joel grimaces and makes a soft noise, “S’all touch and go, right now. I’m really tired, that normal?”

“I gave you some painkillers,” you explain, “probably why.”

Joel looks around gingerly, noting the mess with an amused expression.

“Cleaned up real nice for me, didn’t you?”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you mutter dryly, shifting to adjust the blanket over him. “Next time, I’ll set up some mood lighting and put some music on for you.”

Joel groans low in his throat, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

“Nah. You singin’ for me would be good enough.”

You snort softly, “I don’t sing.”

“Shame,” he murmurs, barely audible, his eyes slipping closed again. “Bet it’d be real pretty, you got a pretty voice, know you’d sing pretty too.”

Your chest squeezes, caught somewhere between a laugh and a breath you can’t quite take.

“You’re losing it, old man.”

Joel smiles weakly.

“Maybe.”

A long pause and he speaks even soften.

“Still think you got a nice voice, though.”

–

You stay beside him. Even after he dozes back off, you don’t move—not far. Never quite letting go of his hand either. Just shift the stool closer and brace your elbow on the edge of the bed, chin tucked in your other hand. 

The storm outside has softened, now more wind than snow, rattling the windows with every gust.

You don’t realize you’ve nodded off until something shifts. A sound—low, grumbly.

“…you snore a little,” Joel rasps.

You straighten quickly and shake your head, blinking through a sleep haze as you answer him defiantly, “I do not, Miller.”

“Oh—you do, sweetheart,” Joel challenges, a subtle smirk playing at his face, staring at you through his swollen eye.

“Good to know you never stop being insufferable,” you tease him.

“Just like seein’ you laugh,” Joel admits before a silence grows, a look of subtle concern crossing his face, “How bad was it? The horde?”

“We’ve dealt with stuff like that before, maybe not at that level but it isn’t something we’re not prepared for. A couple didn’t make it, got bitten defending the watchtower—Jackson can always rebuild, we mourn, move on, you know? With you, s’different,”

Joel, for once, doesn’t know how to respond.

You see it then—that quiet, careful look he sometimes gives you when he thinks you're not watching. Like he’s cataloguing you. Not in some grand, poetic way. More like he’s memorizing how you look when you're safe. When he needs the reminder of it.

You’re too tired to do anything but meet it.

“I ain't goin' anywhere,” he says finally, voice rough but firm, “You can stop lookin�� at me like I’m about to flatline.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Joel smirks faintly. “You’ve been holdin’ my hand for a while,”

“Oh,” it started to feel like an extension of you, his touch, but you slowly attempted to retract.

“Don’t,” Joel tells you, gripping your hand tighter, shifting his head against the makeshift pillow underneath his head that you had made out of his jacket halfway through the night.

“Thanks for not givin’ up on me,” Joel says gently,

You glance over, unsure how to respond at first.

“You really think I would?”

“Dunno,” he says, voice low, “don’t really think I deserve the effort anymore from anyone…”

He trails off, but it hangs between you anyway. 

The way he says it—soft, raw—like the words snuck out before he could stop it.

You lean in slightly, brushing your thumb just once over the back of his hand.

“I’m not anyone, Joel.”

Joel looks at you again, his expression shifting.

His fingers curl around yours again. Warmer this time. Intentional.

“Five years I’ve known you—I’ve patched your ass up more times than I can count. I’ve had dinners with you, beers with you and your brother. This isn’t my attempt at gaining some good karma. I care about you just as much as the rest of this town.”

“You’re too good to me,” Joel says quietly.

–

Jackson rebuilds, but it takes time.

Eventually, you find out that the assailants were after Joel—but Jesse and Ellie had shown up at a crucial point in the ambush that saved Joel and Dina’s life, despite his extensive injuries.

And Joel, stubborn as he was, began to heal.

The first few weeks are slow, mostly bed-ridden - or office-ridden, leg propped up at his desk as he and Tommy planned out the rebuild process and you rounded your daily office visit to him for assurance that he was taking the antibiotics you had given him and checking on his wound.

It takes a few months, but he does get on his feet again.

He’s resilient, you’ll give him that. An injury that would take no less than six to eight months before the healing was done and Joel was already moving, though with some noticeable pain.

You spot him halfway down the main road on the first name where Jackson was finally starting to feel normal again, walking out of the Tipsy Bison with a pronounced limp.

You sigh to yourself, shifting the object under your arm and start down the road.

“Joel Miller.”

He doesn’t stop walking, but he flinches a little. 

He’s been avoiding you for a couple weeks now, knowing how insistent you had been about him using something to support his leg, just to give it a break once in a while.

“I will chase you down.”

He stops.

You close the distance, holding up the object in your hand.

“If you don’t use this, I’m following you everywhere, barring you from walking, and pushing you around in a wheelchair.”

He eyes the cane. Then your face. Then the cane again.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“It’s exactly what you think it is.”

He scowls. “I’m not usin’ a damn cane.”

“You’re still healing,” you tell him, “and if you care about my worries—you’ll use it.”

“That’s low,” Joel counters,

You had spent a week sanding down the cane to a smooth texture, rounding out the handle to something comfortable to grip, even polished it up. It was extravagant or crazy, but it was clearly made with love.

“Did you make it?” Joel asks curiously.

“Doesn’t matter,” You shrug.

Joel smirks at that. 

You had. He knows it.

He takes it wordlessly, wrapping his fingers around the handle and planting it into the ground.

He tests it out wordlessly, leaning his weight into it and only slightly annoyed at how it eases the weight on his injured leg, looking up at you sheepishly.

“So….should I say it now or?”

“Zip it,” Joel retorts with a faint playfulness, “it…helps, s’real nice of you, you know?”

You raise your brow. “You sayin’ I was right? Knowing you needed it?”

“Don’t push it.” Joel warns

“Say it.” you tease with a flirtatious smile that doesn’t go amiss.

Joel sighs, scratching at his jaw. “You were… not completely wrong.”

You beam, and he rolls his eyes, though the edge of his mouth quirks up.

After a beat, he taps the cane gently against the side of your boot.

“Walk with me?” he asks.

He didn’t even need to ask.

–

There wasn’t any indication of where you were walking to, but naturally you drift to your shared street, homes sitting on opposite sides of the street, but near enough that you were only a short walk away.

The cane clicks softly against the dirt road like a steady metronome to the quiet shuffle of your boots. His limp is pronounced, but less severe than it was a few weeks ago.

The streets are quieter these days. Jackson feels like it's exhaling after holding in a long overdue breath.

Joel walks with his shoulder close to yours. Not touching, but close enough that it would only take a shift. He’s never been one for words, not when the moment matters most—but his silence is full of meaning.

Or, maybe he is just savoring the peace.

“You really made this?” he asks again after a few paces, like he needs to be sure.

You nod shyly, hands shoving into your coat pockets.

He’s quiet for a while, but then, “It’s real thoughtful of you.”

“I was gonna carve your name into it, actually,” you joke, nudging him gently with your elbow, “but Tommy said that was a bad idea.”

Joel chuckles low under his breath. “He’d be right.”

Through your sudden shared laughter, your knuckles brush.

It’s nothing, but it feels like so much.

As you approach your houses, Joel turns to you.

“Do you need anything?” you ask him gently. “I can stop by later if you need some pain meds or anything? Or yell at you for not resting up at home like you should.”

Joel huffs, shaking his head. “Always lookin’ for a reason to yell at me, huh?”

“Only ‘cause you keep givin’ me so many,” you tease.

He looks at you for a long moment, eyes scanning your face in the too quiet dark.

“You stayed the whole night,” he says finally, like he’s been holding it in for a while.

“I told Tommy I wouldn’t leave until you woke up.”

Joel nods once. He shifts his weight on the cane, hesitating just slightly, before adding, “I heard you—talkin’ to me.”

“You did?” you ask, your voice quiet. “Well, that’s…embarrassing.”

Joel’s gaze drops to your hand lingering close to his—he hadn’t even realized he’d reached out until it was too late, his hand dwarfing your own in a gentle hold of your fingertips. 

It’s a small touch, but it grounds him.

You flinch slightly at the touch, feeling the heaviness of the moment

“You can let go,” he says, looking back up at you.

You smile faintly. “I don’t want to.”

Joel hums thoughtfully. “Seems I don’t want to either,”

And in that soft hum between houses, under the stars beginning to peek through the roaming clouds overhead, Joel leans in, his cane shifting a few inches behind you as he leans his weight into it to reach you, his lips pressing against yours in a quiet, tender moment of vulnerability under the dim street lights.

“Never got to thank you properly,” Joel admits.

“Is that your way of saying thank you?” you ask curiously.

“Can be,” Joel responds mischievously, a smirk tugging at his lips as you pull back to look at him.

“I think you can do better,” you challenge him, nose brushing against his own.

“You’re damn right,” he agrees, using his free hand to curve around the back of your neck as he pulls you in, stealing your breath away with the second press of his lips.

When he parts, you can’t help but giggle against him, an indescribable feeling tightening your chest.

“Yeah…that’s—” You breath stutters as you nod, “that’ll do.”

Joel chuckles softly, his thumb grazing your cheek.

“Good, ‘cause I got a lot of thankin’ to make up for.”

[valeecruz16]

If this is in your dashboard you are going to be kissed like that in 2025.

[valeecruz16]

Secret Notes and Misunderstandings - Sugawara Kōshi x Reader

Pairing: Sugawara Kōshi x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: fluff Word Count: 3 420 Warnings: Use of y/n, Tanaka and Noya Summary: You receive secret notes from someone. If only they were from your crush Suga A/N: I’m not really happy with the style of this one…

Masterlist

It had to be every schoolgirl’s dream, receiving cute notes written by a secret admirer, pushed into her locker every morning. And the notes were cute, they really were. Never creepy or offensive, just sweet.

It had started almost a month ago. One morning you had opened your locker, only to find a small note fluttering out. Not recognizing it, you had unfolded the paper that seemed to have been ripped from a Kanji exercise book. In an unfamiliar handwriting, using what seemed like a fine 0.3mm black ink pen, a few words had been scribbled down, making a smile pull at your lips.

“I’m too shy to tell you this in person, but your presentation on the United Nations yesterday was crazy good.”

You had folded the note back together, and placed it in your pencil case, where it made you smile every time you glanced at it.

“You’re in a good mood today,” Sugawara, your classmate, had grinned when he had passed you during lunch break on this way to the sink.

You had shrugged, your heart beating faster when you had realized that Suga had addressed you. The feeling that ran through your body at every interaction with him was so different from the feelings the note had sparked, so much better.

The notes had started that day, and there had not been one day of school since then, that there hadn’t been one shoved into your locker in the morning. Over time they had gotten more personal, leaving less and less doubt about the author’s attraction to you. He (and you knew it was a guy by the words he used), was never offensive or creepy, just plainly sweet, complimenting the hair clip you had worn the other day, or sometimes even admitting how he wished he would be brave enough to talk to you normally, without these notes.

And the more he revealed his own thoughts, his own insecurities and wishes, the more he revealed of his heart, the worse you felt. The notes were cute, sweet, and normally you would have been dying to know who went through all the effort just for your sake. Maybe you would have been trying to find out who it was and asked them out, just because you felt like after all the effort he had made, he deserved you take a risk too.

But no matter how much you wanted to feel excited and honoured by these notes, there was still Suga. Suga who was in the same class as you and your mysterious admirer, Suga who was working hard in every subject, who helped the other students when they struggled, who laughed loud and unashamedly in the breaks, who’s smile was warm like summer sun beams, even when it was only late February. So really it was Sugawara’s fault, you thought to yourself, that you couldn’t reciprocate the feelings these notes conveyed. If it weren’t for your stupid, stupid, unrequited crush on him, you’d have tried to get into contact with the author of these notes weeks ago. But your heart was hopelessly hung up on someone else, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself to let these feelings go.

So, when you stared down on what had to be the boldest note yet, you felt a little sick.

"I've been trying to work up the courage to ask you to sit with me for lunch for weeks now, but every time I think about getting up and asking you, I get so nervous that I can't even think properly anymore. Maybe I’ll ask you tomorrow. I want to make salmon onigiri, I know you like those. What do you think?"

The nervousness of the author as he had written these words and then pushed the note into your locker was basically seeping out of the paper into your hands, pleading you to be as nervous about him as he was about you. But instead, you knew he was just setting himself up for heartbreak. This had to stop. Now. You had allowed this boy to bring up his hopes for far too long now. You had to end this. Even if it would hurt him. Even when you would feel awful for breaking his heart.  But it was better to end this now than to have him work up the courage to face you and then tell it into his face.

Although he did deserve a gentle let down, he didn’t deserve to torture himself before it. So, after your last class, you ripped out a page of your notebook and grabbed one of your pens. During class, between paying attention to the teachers’ words and the way Suga was bouncing his leg under the table on the other side of the classroom, you had mentally prepared what you wanted to write.

“Dear friend, thank you very much for all the notes over the past weeks. I have enjoyed reading them, but I’m sorry to tell you that I can’t reciprocate your feelings. I already have someone I like, and it wouldn’t be fair to let you keep hoping I will return your feelings. In fact, I should have told you this a lot sooner, and I’m sorry for the pain I’m causing you now. Let this be the last exchange.”

You had been tempted to add words of reassurance or comfort, but you were worried they might make him hope against hope that you would eventually return his feelings. When the last class was over, you used a thin strip of washi-tape and stuck the note to your locker so it was blocking the little gap in the door. This way the note couldn’t possibly go unnoticed by whoever had sent you the others.

The next morning rolled around, and you were almost nervous, when you took off your shoes and placed them in the rack, going to your locker to grab your books for the day. The note you had stuck to its door the day prior was gone, and you already feared someone else might have removed it, but when you opened the locker, no new note came sailing out. You were almost a little disappointed. But you had asked him to stop writing, so you had gotte what you wanted. This was for the best. Let him be disappointed or maybe even a little heartbroken, and by next week he would have moved on.

When you entered the classroom, you found, much to your surprise, that yesterday’s note hadn’t been the last. Instead, someone had placed two wrapped onigiri on your table, and a note underneath. Up until now, the paper had always been torn neatly out of notebooks, the signs evenly paced and written with precision. This time, even though it was the by now familiar handwriting, the page seemed to have been ripped out in haste, the words smeared over the paper, smudging the ink.

“I already made these, and I thought you should have them. If you don’t want them, leave them on the desk during lunch break and I’ll take them back. This is my last note. Thanks for your honesty.”

You bit your lip, staring down at the paper. You could tell his hand had shaken when he had written this note. While nervousness had seeped out of the other notes, this one seemed to ooze pain. He’ll get over it, you thought to yourself, over me.

Quickly you crumbled the note in your hand, pushing the onigiris to the edge of the table, not intending to eat them. With a few steps you made your way to the paper basked, discarding the final note of your secret admirer. On your way back to your desk, your eyes skipped over to where Suga was sitting, as always when you got the chance.

He sat backsided on a chair, arms crossed over the backrest, chin propped on his lower arm. He had taken off his jacket, leaving him in the short sleeved, white button-up of the uniform. Warm spring sunlight flitted in through the window, catching in his silver hair and making it gleam like star light. He looked angelic, you thought to yourself. Even though Daichi was telling him something, and laughing at his side, Suga barely seemed to listen, his gaze absentmindedly directed into the distance. He looked pale, you realized, pale and tired. Hopefully he wouldn’t get sick in the last weeks of the school year.

Suddenly his gaze drew away from wherever he had stared of to, and directed itself to you instead. You felt like your heart almost stopped at the way his coffee brown eyes bore into you, and feeling your cheeks heat up, you lifted your hand to wave at him with a smile. Instead of returning the gesture, he only seemed to tense, before tearing his eyes away from you and sitting up, saying something to Daichi instead.

Confused at his unusual reaction, you walked back to your seat, sitting down. The onigiri in front of you seemed to mock you, and far more frequent than usually your gaze flickered over to Suga during the day. His mood didn’t seem to better though, and in fact it grew only grimmer when he caught you staring at him once.

You were not the only one who seemed to pick up on his unusual behaviour, because as the bell rang for lunch break, you overheard Daichi ask him if everything was okay. Suga only answered he was fine, even though he sounded upset and annoyed, but the rest of the conversation got drowned out by the voices of other students.

Like every day, you left the classroom at the beginning of lunchbreak to refill your bottle at the water fountain in the hallway. Today you made sure to take an extra few minutes; hopefully giving the author of the notes you had received enough time to retrieve the onigiri from your desk. And sure enough, by the time you returned to the classroom, they were gone.

The rest of the day went by without any other incidents, unless one counted Suga’s terrible mood. Even across the classroom it seemed to rub off on you. Originally you had wanted to pay closer attention to the other boys, trying to see if anyone’s behaviour differed from usually which might give them away as the author of the messages, but instead your focus was entirely on Suga and what you could do to cheer him up.

When the last class ended, and you still hadn’t thought of anything useful to say to Suga, you just opted for a wave and a smile, as you usually did, bidding him goodbye before heading off to your club. But unlike all the other days, he ignored you completely, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and your heart heavy.

It was already growing dark outside when you hasted through the corridors of the school again. Your club had finished only a few minutes ago, when you had remembered there was a book you needed for homework, so you were on your way back to the lockers. You had almost reached them, when suddenly the voices of two students made you stop.

“He explicitly said not to get involved,” the one nagged.

“But have you seen him? Can you really just stand by and watch him suffer like that,” the other voice replied.

Carefully you snuck around the last corner, finding two boys standing in front of your locker. Even in the dim light you could make out the one’s buzzcut and the other’s unruly hair. They were both in the year below you, you realized, and members of the volleyball team, teammates of Suga’s. The one with the unruly hair was trying to push a piece of paper through the gap below the door into your locker.

You were about to ask them what they were up to. After all, neither of them couldn’t have been the one writing the notes you had received; that person was in your class. You knew that from the references to your classwork he had been making.

“You know, he’s gonna hate you when he finds out you got involved.”

“So what, let him hate me! As long as he gets his girl! (Y/n) just has to give him a second chance!”

“Who am I supposed to give a second chance,” you asked out loud, stepping out from behind the corner.

The two boys jumped in surprise as your presence, the one with the unruly hair, quickly hiding a piece of paper behind his back.

“Well, you see, the thing is our set-,” he started, immediately receiving a harsh nudge from his friend.

“And what were you trying to push into my locker,” you added. Usually you were not very intimidating, but being a year older than them had its perks: they had to respect you. Demanding, you held out your hand.

The boy with the blond streak in this dishevelled hair shot his friend a side glance before stepping forward and dropping the paper into your outstretched hand.

“Have you been the ones putting notes into my locker,” you asked.

“Yes, well, no. Maybe. Sometimes,” the boy with the buzzcut answered. Tanaka, you remembered.

“What is it now. Have you or have you not?”

“Sometimes,” the other one – Nuka? Nayo? Noya? Oh yes, Noya was his name – answered. “Sometimes we delivered them for our friend, when you had club late and there was the chance of you running into Su-“

He got interrupted by another shove between his ribs. He coughed.

Biting your lip, you twirled the paper between your fingers. You could find out who had sent you all these notes, you realized. You just had to ask now. Tanaka would probably be quiet, but Noya seemed eager to make you like whoever had sent them to deliver them. But did you want to know? Did you really want to go to class tomorrow, look at the person who had written these notes and pretend you didn’t know?

“Please,” Tanaka interrupted your thoughts. “Can’t you give our friend a chance? We know you like someone else, but you’ll forget about that guy in no time, I promise! Our friend is like- he’s the best guy there is really. He’s smart, and patient, and funny-”

“Charming, good-looking, athletic,” Noya continued. “A little chaotic sometimes maybe, but he has like the biggest heart-”

You shook your head. “Listen guys, Tanaka-kun, Noya-kun. I appreciate your effort and I know you just want to see your friend happy, but as I already wrote him: there is someone else I like, and it wouldn’t be right to let your friend hope that my feelings will change eventually. That’s just not fair.”

“But you should’ve seen him today during practice,” Noya continued. “He was not himself! He was devastated! And Suga’s ready to let you walk away because he respects you, but I- we think-”

“Wait, wait,” you lifted your hands in the air, signalling him to stop talking. Your heart was racing. “Say that again.”

“He respects you and-”

“No, you said his name,” you disagreed.

The boys exchanged glances.

“He’ll kill you,” Tanaka mumbled to Noya.

“Did you say Suga,” you asked.

Their silence was answer enough.

All this time you had wanted Suga to notice you and all this time it had been him who had sent you these notes? And then you had rejected him? Was that why he had been so pale today, why he hadn’t smiled at you today? Because you had rejected him, not even knowing who you had rejected? Your heart dropped and the floor felt like it was giving way beneath your feet. You had to fix that. Somehow you had to fix this stupid, stupid situation.

“Do you have a pen?”

Tanaka rummaged around in his pocket, before handing you a blunt pencil. You took it anyway. Unfolding the paper you had taken from Noya, you placed it against the closest locker, flipping it to its empty side.

“What’s Suga’s favourite onigiri filling,” you asked, glancing at Tanaka and Noya from over your shoulder.

“Salmon,” they answered at the same time without hesitation.

You furrowed your brows. “Are you sure?”

“We talked about it just the other day,” Tanaka assured you.

“He said, he likes them because you like them,” Noya added. You exhaled slowly, trying not to laugh. This sounded so much like something Suga would say.

Putting the pen down, you began writing.

“Noya and Tanaka ranted you out. Don’t be mad at them, I made them tell me. Let’s eat lunch together. I’ll make salmon onigiri, I know you like those. We can eat outside under the plum tree. The blossoms are your favourite, aren’t they?”

Quickly, before you could change your mind, you folded the paper, and pushed it into Suga’s locker, making the two boys exchange wide eyed glances.

“What did you write,” they asked excitedly as you returned to your locker to retrieve the book you had come here for.

“Are you giving him a second chance?”

“You’ll see,” you answered with a smile.

The next morning, Suga was already sitting in the classroom when you entered, like he did every morning. When he saw you sitting down behind your own desk, he quickly exchanged a few words with Daichi, before walking over.

Pink was dusting his cheeks, the colour almost matching that of the plum blossoms outside. He was nervous, you could tell, fiddling around with a piece of paper between his fingers. Watching him walk over, your own pulse spiked. Yesterday you had been filled with confidence when you had written the note, but today it all seemed unreal. That was until he dropped the small piece of paper on the desk in front of you, leaning against the table.

For a moment you looked up at him, his chocolate brown eyes nervous but also filled with warmth as he glanced down to you, then you reached for the paper. He had rolled it into a tight scroll, probably an act of nervosity while he had waited for you. For the first time the note didn’t contain any words, only a doodled Smilie. The smile on your face was instantaneous, and quickly you looked back up to Suga, who was full on blushing now.

“I know, I said I’d stop it with the notes, but…” he shrugged bashfully, making you laugh quietly.

“No, that’s okay,” you let him know.

“I do gotta ask though- not that I’m complaining, just curious – what changed your mind?”

He’s still smiling, but you could hear the insecurity in his voice as well.

Inhaling deeply, you settled for the truth. “Turned out the guy I rejected was actually the guy I was rejecting him for.”

Suga just furrowed his brows in confusion.

“What I mean is,” you shuffled in your seat a little, wondering if the words would come any easier if you sat differently or if Suga weren’t nailing you to the chair with the intensity with which he was considering you now. “You’re the guy I was talking about in that note, the person I like. I didn’t know you were also the person sending me these notes.”

Finally, the last bit of hesitation seemed to melt away from Suga. “Lucky then, that I like you, too,” he teased, making your heart stutter and his cheeks tint an even deeper pink. “Sooo, are we eating lunch together?"

You nodded. “I made onigiri, like promised. Is salmon really your favourite filling?”

Suga laughed. “Yeah, it is. Always has been, since I was little.”

He was about to say something else, but was interrupted by the teacher, calling the beginning of the class.

Quickly he pushed away from your desk, winking at you mischievously. This Suga was so very different from the disappointed, heartbroken Suga from yesterday. You knew exactly which one you preferred. He turned around and hurried back to his desk, but not before dropping another note to your table, this one folded several times.

As the teacher began the class, you quickly unfolded the paper under your desk, reading the few words Suga had written down. This time they were a lot neater than the note he had left with the rejected onigiri the day prior.

“I mean it. I really like you too.”

And underneath he had drawn a tiny, almost hesitant doodle of a heart.

[valeecruz16]

I don't know if this counts as a prompt but how about the "Only One Bed" trope with Hinata~?

nonnie this is perfect!! thank you sooooo much for the idea heehee i hope this turned out okay!

brazil!hinata, fluff, friends to lovers

-

hinata's bubbling with excitement all day long. through his morning shower, while he took out the garbage, during the practice games this afternoon, and the entirety of the evening, he's been giddy. riding the transit to the airport and dealing with the tense flow of travelers didn't phase him one bit.

now he stands in the airport holding a ridiculously large and vibrant sign with your name in massive letters, right above his head.

the two of you had planned this trip a little over three months ago. hinata had almost reached his two-year mark in brazil, and was getting ready to move home. he asked you to be his travel buddy, even offering to pay for your travel if you would be so kind to accompany him. you couldn't say no, of course, and made plans to fly to see your best friend.

you and hinata met when you were first years, both in the same elective classes. you've been inseparable ever since. you watched every game that you could, despite your own busy schedule. even while he's been gone, weekly facetimes and daily chats have kept you closer than ever.

you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous, though.

over the past two years, you've watched hinata grow from a bouncy, excited teenager into a confident and strong man. he's honed his skills to perfection and it shows. you've seen the streams. you thought he was incredible in high school, but he's got to be the best volleyball player you've ever seen. it's amazing, and you're so proud.

but this confidence has affected more than just his performance.

hinata carries himself in a way that exudes confidence and pride. he's tan, dusted with freckles, and toned muscles that prove the hours of volleyball he's endured. he smiles often, a bright and toothy grin whenever he speaks. hinata is sure of himself. he knows who he is, speaking with a clear voice and tone.

which is much more attractive than you had thought.

you've found yourself thinking about him more, lingering thoughts of his happy grin that follow you throughout the day. you think about his pretty hair and how it shines in the sun during your morning commute. you think about his cheery voice and the nicknames he calls you on your lunch break.

and as you step off of the plane, those thoughts come to a screeching halt.

once off the terminal and into the building, you're hit with the heat of brazil. that combined with the disorientation of it all, you are a little overwhelmed. until a near fluorescent pink sign held up by tan, strong arms and an orange mop of hair catch your eye.

"sho!"

you run, carry on dragging behind you until you meet your best friend. hinata picks you up, squeezing you as tight as he can before setting you down.

"god, i'm so glad to see you. was the flight okay? did i get you good seats? were you able to sleep?"

hinata tucks the sign under his arm, picks your bag up for you, and leads you to the exit. you follow behind him with a laugh.

"yes, yes, and a little bit," you answer while the two of you wait in the shade of the large sign, being put to good use in the evening sun. "did you wait long?"

he shakes his head. "less than twenty minutes. but you know that i would've stayed all day for you."

as the bus pulls and the two of you find a seat, hinata can't sit still. he's been feeling the same way that you have, but he's been able to distract himself until now. the way you say his name feels special, something that he looks forward to on every call. he counts down the hours until your weekly facetimes, heart pounding in anticipation everytime the call rings through.

"so, what's on the agenda shoyo?"

thankfully, that snaps him out of his thoughts and back to you as you rest your hand on his knee to get him from bouncing it.

"sorry," he stills. "well, i figured we could grab something to eat at my place. i don't have any practice until tomorrow, so we can relax tonight and head to the beach tomorrow. i figured you would want to rest after flying all day."

you can't help but smile. years of beach photos and now it's finally your turn to run into those waves he gushes about every day.

"sounds perfect to me. after the house tour i'll change and we can relax."

hinata snorts. "can't wait to show you everything, it will take a whole two minutes!"

you push into his side with your shoulder, rolling your eyes. the bus slows to a stop and hinata stands up, nodding his head towards a set of apartment buildings.

"this is our stop," he sighs, grabbing your hand to lead you off of the bus and across the street. as soon as you are en route for the building, he lets go of your hand. a small wave of tension washes over the two of you, but you're quick to move on. the excitement of seeing your best friend after two years outweighs the newfound feelings.

"okay, first part of the tour," hinata mumbles as his fingers fuss with the lock on his door. he cheers to himself as he finally gets it open, and runs into the middle of the room.

"ta-da!" he puts his arms out and waves his hands. "here's...everything!"

it is quite small, but it's just what he needed. a small kitchen with a couple of bar stools, a large window with an AC unit, and a few photos taped to the fridge. a couple volleyballs sit in what must be the living room, along with his goggles and extra water bottles. he walks to a door adjacent to the front door and laughs.

"so that's my kitchen, obviously. and then this was my living room, but i already sold my couch and chairs,"

you stop walking and give him a confused stare.

"wait, you got rid of your couch? what am i going to-"

"here's my room. that's the bathroom," he points towards another door which is next to a large map of japan taped to the wall. the other walls are decorated as well, with photos of friends and family and other photos he enjoyed. some scenery from home, photos he snapped at the beach, and some volleyball posters as well. hinata scratches his head. "i know it's pretty small, but i didn't need much. but, if you need towels they're in here, and-"

"shoyo."

"the AC unit is perfect, too. if you need it turned up just let me know-"

"shoyo."

he stops finally, hand reached towards his small closet door when he turns to you.

"what's up?"

"you got rid of your couch?"

he laughs, flopping onto his bed. "yeah! two days ago. it was a pain in the ass to get down the stairs," he shakes his head, remembering how ridiculous the whole thing was.

"why did you do that?"

now he returns your confused look. tilting his head to the side, he looks at you. your arms are folded across your chest, your boarding passes still in your hand from earlier. a habit you clearly haven't let go of.

"what do you mean? i'm moving home next week, and i can't take it with me."

"shoyo, i was going to sleep on the couch."

hinata's smile falters slightly as the realization sets in. you're right, he was going to sell it the day before the two of you left. the busyness of the past few days caused that to slip his mind, selling it to his downstairs neighbor.

he swallows. normally, this wouldn't be a huge deal. the two of you have had tons of sleepovers before. but something is different now. something that he doesn't want to ruin.

"you can take my bed. i can just sleep on the floor, i don't mind at all!"

you shake your head, shuffling to join him on the bed. "it's your bed, sho. i'm not going to do that to you!"

"you're my guest, what sort of host would i be to make you sleep on the floor? c'mon, it's my fault i sold the couch to begin with. you can take the bed, i promise."

you play with your fingers for a moment, deciding what you're going to say for a bit.

"we could share," you suggest, voice quiet. when you look up at him, hinata's cheeks are dusted pink. he clears his throat.

"i-if you're okay with it, of course."

you nod. "i don't mind. it would keep us both comfortable."

hinata nods, hoping you don't hear the pounding of his heart in his chest. honestly, he would like nothing more than to keep you close. many nights, especially over the last few months, he's awake with thoughts of holding you, keeping you tight to him as you count the stars.

"well, i'll start dinner. feel free to shower, change, whatever you want."

"is that your way of telling me that i stink?"

hinata laughs out loud, throwing his extra pillow toward you before heading to the kitchen. god, he missed you. he missed your wit, your laugh, and the way your nose scrunches when he tells a bad joke. he missed everything about you, but he can't find the words to tell you.

the two of you spend the night playing cards on his living room floor, sharing stories of silly things that occurred over the last few weeks. hinata showed you a few photos he took a couple days ago, and laughed as he retold the stories behind them. before you knew it, it was almost 2:30 am, which meant it was time to go to bed.

the two of you had been putting it off as long as possible. but, with the way you rest your head in your hands between games, hinata knows it's time.

"i have extra blankets in the closet if you need them," he points from the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from his lips. you nod, moving your things out of your suitcase to keep busy. you're hoping to distract yourself as much as you can. "i'm going to shower really quick, but make yourself comfortable. i'll keep quiet," he closes the door all but a crack, the warm light escaping onto the bed like a spotlight.

you do as he says, getting comfortable underneath the blankets as far to the side as possible. as soon as your head hits the pillow, you begin to fall under. hinata's warm scent envelopes you and you feel safe, the hours of travel finally catching up to you as you shut your eyes.

you're not sure how long it's been before hinata joins you, sliding into bed as carefully as he can. he lies on his back for a while, trying to decide if he should hold you or keep his distance. the smell of his body wash causes you to stir a little, and without thinking hinata pulls your back to his chest.

you hum, very groggily as you feel the warmth of his bare skin on you. after a moment your eyes snap open as you realize the situation.

"i didn't mean to wake you, i'm sorry," he whispers, voice close to your ear in the position the two of you are in.

"it's okay," you breathe, scared if you move that he will push away.

a few minutes pass, the two of you unmoving and listening to the sounds of your rapid heartbeats, slowly beginning to beat as one.

"i'm sorry about the couch," hinata whispers once more, voice raspy with sleep. "but i like having you close."

your lips part slightly at the confession. your mind is swimming, shocked at the fact that he feels the same. you start to speak, but nothing comes out. instead, you reach for his hand with yours, softly pulling it wraps around you in wordless accord. hinata pulls you closer, a silent reassurance that he feels the same.

"goodnight, shoyo," you sigh, leaning back into his chest. shakily, he leans forward to place a kiss on the back of your head.

"goodnight," he says into the night. the two of you drift off to sleep, feelings pushed aside for the time being. for now, hinata finally holds you close, and falls asleep with a smile.

[valeecruz16]

Y/N: I think I’m in love with Bucky.

Steve: Oh, okay?

Y/N: Well, give me some thoughts—

Sam: And prayers. You’re gonna need them.

[valeecruz16]

Hey can I request a angst scenario of zoro and reader in wano arc where they are crewmates and in a relationship but since a long time they have been only fighting with each other and reader goes wid luffy to get sanji and when she comes back she finds about zoro and hyori. They argue abt it and zoro doesn't think he did anything wrong by letting hyori continue her flirting n when asked how he feels abt hyori. He doesn't say that he is not attracted to her pr something like dat. You can finish ot however u want. Just make it angst worthy if possible

Hi pretty! First of all, this took forever so my sincerest apologies. I wrote this three full times until I was satisfied, so I really really hope you enjoy it ♡ thanks you sm for your request ♡

Fear

Roronoa Zoro x fem!reader

Your relationship has been staggering, everything gets worse when you go for Sanji. The reunion in Wano is not what you expect.

Note: established relationship. angst. SPOILER Wano arc. Zoro emotionally constipated. sfw.

wc: 4,7k

The land of Wano is an interesting territory. The few days you have been here you have seen everything from abundance to misery. Your feeling of justice and freedom motivates you in your captain Luffy's mission: to kick Kaido's ass, and liberate Wano.

After the great odyssey of bringing Sanji back with you, the Straw Hats are all on the same earth after a long time. Ever since you parted ways with your captain, Luffy, and Trafalgar Law's new plan, you've been feeling a little incomplete and empty. Since you joined Luffy and the others you have developed a very strong bond with everyone, considering them as your family, making them a very special place in your heart. In the two years apart, the only thing that kept you strong and motivated to be a better warrior, stronger, more agile and intelligent was the idea of meeting your friends again. Your family. However, your mission on Yonkou Big Mom's land felt much harder than those two years. The difference was the strained relationship between you and your closest crew mate.

Roronoa Zoro, the swordsman of the future Pirate King, is much more than just a friend for you. It was during the battle against Gekko Moria and the shadow of the mystical swordsman that the two of you finally stopped being two emotionally constipated idiots and confessed your feelings. You remember running up to Zoro when you saw him fall to the ground, breathing heavily, stopped only by Franky's large hand. The zombie Samurai dropped his katana and fell into your friend's hands. Zoro had won. He obtained a new katana and regained Brook's shadow. Only then had you run up to him, falling next to him.

"Are you okay?" you had asked him, taking his face in your hands, checking for serious injuries.

“I'm fine, woman,” answer, moving your hands away from his face with a gentle movement. Your eyes followed his to the sword in his lap. She was beautiful and dangerous, just how you saw Zoro.

“You are getting closer to being the Greatest Swordsman in the World” you smiled slightly as you saw his eyes shine with pride. He slowly raised his gaze and fixed it on your face, silently admiring every detail.

"You're beautiful” he had blurted out of nowhere, like a sigh. His left hand cupping your face and tenderly caressing your side. Your breathing hitched by the intensity of his gaze and the warmth of his touch.

His name had escaped your lips like an overflowing confession. Words were not necessary, both could read each other's feelings with just a look. Silently your lips met halfway in a slow, tender kiss. A kiss that contrasted with the gloom and destructiveness that surrounded, but that reflected all those repressed emotions. Attempts to deny or hope you would disappear were useless, love overwhelmed you two.

Zoro found in you a great friend, a confidant, a fighting partner, appreciating how you didn't need help to kick ass, but you were still grateful every time he helped you. You're reliable. And, in his eyes, the most beautiful person in the world. Except for gauging his opponent's strength, he had neverworried about anyone's physical appearance, but found himself looking for you more than once a day and admiring you from afar for long minutes. You're a distraction when he wanted to exercise, but at the same time your motivation to improve.

You found a life partner in Zoro. You were never completely alone in the world, but you never felt as good with anyone as you did with Zoro. With him you could be your maximum splendor, without fear of being judged. And every time he asked you about your story, about your interests, or when he asked again what you said when you spoke and no one listened, you felt happy to be his friend. You felt in peace next to him. The feeling only grew as you two began to spend more and more time together. It was a matter of time before your heart pounded every time he approached you, but peace filled you when he gave you that vague but sincere smile.

The kiss was only broken by Brook's annoying laughter and Franky's crying. Since then you two were in a relationship. Many don't understand the nature of your relationship, Zoro's cold attitude contrasts with your much warmer one, but the two of you fit together perfectly. Zoro is a man of action more than words, and you have always been very good at reading his actions and putting the unsaid into words. You complement each other. Even separated for two years without having any contact with each other, both blindly trusted each other and your feelings. And when you were reunited with all your friends, there was no need to talk or ask about the status of your relationship. Zoro took you in his arms the moment you met and did not hesitate to kiss you hard, showing how much he had missed you. Holding hands, you had joined the rest of the crew.

Your trust and loyalty towards each other was tested more than once, like the times multiple idiots tried to take you for a ride every time the crew stopped at a new island, or the multiple times women threw themselves on each other's shoulders. from Zoro. You were both a little possessive, but jealousy was nothing compared to trust. Jealousy was never a big deal. The true test of loyalty was proven on the battlefield, when both respected each other's struggles. Being a couple didn't make you a one person. You both have individual dreams and ambitions. And he respect you for it.

However, all that failed during the mission in Dressrosa. You still don't fully understand it, but since then something between the two of you has changed. You have turned the matter over since then, without finding a just reason for the change. In Dressrosa you had fought alongside Robin and Usopp, splitting up when Dofflamingo imprisoned the island to help the fighters and villagers. On your way you had crossed paths with Dofflamingo, who did not hesitate to attack and although your skills are more than enough, you needed help from Luffy to deal with him. After the victory, you spent a lot of time with Rebecca and Robin, helping the town recover. None of that had to do with your relationship with Zoro.

Little by little his attitude began to be increasingly distant and cold towards you. You two were never big fans of public physical displays, but soon after fled the country, they simply stopped. You searched for his touch several times, but his responses were almost icy. The kisses were what followed, the only time he kised you was before going to sleep. Slowly, you stopped too, too embarrassed, feeling like you were begging for crumbs of appreciation. You tried to speak, following Robin's advice, but one way or another Zoro found a way to avoid the topic. It was frustrating, but you still have hope in your relationship. You know Zoro, words were never his strong suit, but you knew that when he felt ready he would talk to you. You didn't expect that moment to come at a time like that.

You didn't hesitate to join Sanji's rescue group. The cook was one of your closest friends within the crew. You didn't care about the danger, you would go look for your friend no matter what. Luffy smiled confidently at you when you offered to accompany them. Your fighting and strategy skills were valuable in the land of sweets. But before you left in the Sunny for Sanji, Zoro pulled you away from everyone, where you had privacy. At that moment you were excited about a big kiss goodbye after so much, along with a request that you take care of yourself. How stupid you were.

"Don't go," Zoro had said then, sounding more like an order, more than a request. His serious frown left you confused.

"I have to go” you answered obviously. “We have to bring Sanji back.”

“They can bring the perverted cook, you don't have to go too.” The seriousness in his voice surprised you. There was something in his eye that you couldn't decipher. “Don't go,” he repeated, squeezing your skilled arm tightly.

“Zoro” you called him, somewhat annoyed by his attitude, but you politely tried to get out of his strong grip. “You know they need me, and I also want to bring Sanji back. He's my friend”

Your words didn't seem to be the right ones, because instead of letting go his grip was even harder and crushing to the point of making you let out a moan. A haze of darkness clouded his vision.

“Do you want to play the hero that much or are you just so desperate to have that pervert behind you?” He blurted out so abruptly and full of resentment that it left you frozen in place.

That was a culminating point. You had never heard him speak like that before, much less towards you. You felt hurt and dirty. Did Zoro think that about you? It wasn't jealousy, it was something else. Sanji is a friend of both , and even if he didn't say it, you know that Zoro wants Sanji back too. It's something more, something that you should have delved into, but at that moment your heart hurt too much and you still had a friend to rescue. Still you tried to clear things up.

“You know it's not like that, Zoro,” you tried to speak, interrupted by how abruptly he let go of your arm, as if your touch burned him. He ran his gaze past you away.

“No, I don't know,” his voice felt like being pierced by thousands of daggers. “You should go, they are waiting for you.”

“Zoro…” you wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came out of your lips.

You shared a tense silence, him staring at the sea behind you and you admiring the man in front of you. Try to think how to fix all that mess. You felt like Zoro didn't trust you. You sighed as you heard Luffy calling you in the distance, ready to leave. You swallowed the mess of words and emotions that threatened to escape your throat and forced yourself to calm down. Zoro was your boyfriend, you trusted each other. You love each other. It was all a simple misunderstanding that would be resolved once you returned. So you smiled at him as best you could before standing on the tiptoes, helping yourself with your hands on his chest until you were at his eye level. His eye finally looked at you, although you couldn't read his expression.

“I'll be back soon” you whispered with the softest smile. You moved a little closer to place a light kiss on the corner of his lips, too insecure to kiss his lips like you really wanted to. "Do not forget I love you."

Zoro didn't respond, but it was okay, you told yourself. With one last smile you ran to the Sunny. Ignoring the dull ache in your chest and the dark thoughts in your mind, you forced yourself to focus on bringing your friend back. That was the last time you saw Zoro. Until now.

It took a long time until you and Zoro found each other in the immense Wano. In your mind you had imagined thousands of scenarios of what your reunion would be like, happy to see your beloved boyfriend again, but a little worried about their last meeting. Almost losing Sanji had led you to think a lot about what would happen if you lost Zoro. You're aware that neither you need him to live, nor does he need you, but both of you chose to live with the other on a deeper level than friendship. You don't need Zoro in your life, but you want him in it. Recent events also made you think about the possibility that, perhaps, he no longer wants you in his life. At least not on a romantic level. Feelings can change, people change, you know. You're afraid that this is the case.

You have never considered yourself weak, you have known how to fight and defend yourself since you were little, you have been a pirate for a long time and you know better than anyone what life at sea is like. You have never let negative thoughts get the better of you, otherwise you wouldn't have come this far. So why were you letting yourself be dominated by them lately? Your mind was a downward spiral, pulling you down, making you believe things you don't want to believe.

Seeing Zoro again was not at all what you expected, because it never occurred to you that it would be minutes before witnessing an execution and that he would appear with a woman as beautiful as that one and a little girl. It wasn't the best time for a reunion, but you had hoped for something more. You wanted to scream his name and run into his arms but you felt stuck to the ground next to Sanji who was complaining how the stupid moss head always managed to be surrounded by beautiful women.

Everything happens suddenly, but very slowly at the same time. The man who you understood was the father of the pink-haired little girl is executed in front of the entire Capital. Before you could really react you're preventing an arrow from piercing the emerald green haired woman's head, while Sanji and Zoro join together to protect the girl from the guards. Because of everything you couldn't even say “hello” to your boyfriend. The man had barely noticed your presence. You felt insignificant, invisible. The man you loved walked away with the green-haired woman without even giving you a glance.

All your fears no longer sounded as absurd as before. Sanji next to you could recognize your change of mood.

“Don't be discouraged,” he told you with a kind smile before scrunching his face in a funny, angry gesture. “That marimo doesn't know what he's missing! I'll hit him next time for making feel bad a beautiful lady like you!”

You tried to laugh, but it was difficult with the lump in your throat. You wanted to get angry, break something, or shout an insult. More than angry, you feel insufficient, weak and pathetic. You've never felt so bad before. You don't want to see your reflection, sure you would hate the image you carry. How can one unarmed man do more than an entire army? It's so cruel. It's so cruel to feel this way and have to swallow it all and move on. In war there is no time to regret.

In the Villa the alliance finally meets. Kinnemon, Law and Luffy are there as the leaders. Zoro is there too, attached to the new sword that he carries proudly and with the woman from before. Hiyori, you learn her name, Momo's sister, legitimate princess of Wano. It is she who has given Enma the sword that Zoro trains with in exchange for the sword that he got by defeating Ryuma. You understand the reason for this exchange, but that does not mean that you feel betrayed in some way. That sword was witness to your first kiss, the reason in part why the two of you had confessed your feelings. It was stupid, is a sword and it had no direct relationship with you, but it bothered you so much. Another feeling you had to swallow.

Zoro was too focused on training with his new weapon to greet you, it seemed. You swallowed your pride and were the one who approached him. The princess is sitting under a nearby tree, admiring Zoro's movements with heart eyes. You're not blind, much less stupid, you have noticed how the young woman does not stop flirting and expressing her admiration for Zoro. You've also noticed how he's never asked her to stop, much less warned that he has a girlfriend. Today you were swallowing a lot of uncomfortable feelings.

“Hi” you let out when he lowers the sword and you can get closer. His haki isn't enough to control the new sword, you realize. Your voice seems to suddenly surprise him, you see how a chill runs down his spine. You want to get closer, but you're not sure that's right.

“Hi” he repeats slowly, you can see how he is measuring you with his eyes. It shouldn't hurt like it does.

"I…” you force yourself to speak, you want to tell him that you're happy to see him, that you missed him so much, you want to hug him, hear your name on his lips, but everything feels wrong. A tired sigh escapes your lips and you're sincere: “I don't know what to say.”

“I'm glad you're still alive,” he responds instead after a tense minute. You can see it, how he is holding back and you envy his discipline, you wish you were as good as him at controlling your emotions.

Her words sound sincere, but there is something bitter in them. You don't want to delve into. You were sincere, you don't know what to say or do. You just want everything to go back to normal. You can only stay there statically with your eyes lost in nothingness. You can't watch it without feeling small. The idea that his feelings for you have changed are becoming more and more a real fear. You're afraid to ask, you're not sure you can listen to him and not break down.

Then Zoro looks at you. He really looks at you after so long. Your body looks stronger and you may notice a new scar on your chin. Carrot told how you fought BigMom's eldest son to protect them. The thought of you kicking ass made him almost smile, it was your expression that stopped him. You looked tired. Zoro remembered your face shining with your smile. He frowned because couldn't remember what it was like to see you smile big and sincere. He didn't like the feeling. It was the same feeling that had haunted him since Dressrosa. Since he witnessed from afar how Dofflamingo held you up with one of his threads wrapped around your neck when you were protecting a family. Luffy had appeared to help you. Since then, Zoro couldn't get close to you. And then you ran as far away from him as you could, desperately going to look for that cook. He could not stand it. He couldn't identify what it was, but something pushed him away from you every time he saw you nearby. It feels like being wounded from behind. He can't help it, it hurts and burns, even more so when he sees your eyes fall at his not-so-subtle rejection. He's hurting you, he knows it, but can't do anything else. It's mess shit.

Seeing you now, in front of him, so close and so far, makes him sick. He felt weak. Wanted to vomit. Everything went wrong between the two of you and, at this point, Zoro doesn't know if there is any way back. He was sincere, was happy to see that you were still alive, but it felt wrong to say it. The scar on his chest spikes when sees you blink so slowly, as if you were coming back to reality and looking back at him. You look empty. Is this how you feel? His hand stings as he watches you tuck a stray strand behind your ear, a gesture he used to do for you before. He doesn't remember the last time he caressed your skin.

“Zoro,” your voice had never sounded less than sweet when you called his name in the past, now it felt like a heavy stone on his stomach. "What do you feel for me?"

The question comes from deep within you and falls between the two. It's Zoro's silence that answers you. That's answer enough, however, you've never been very kind to yourself.

“How do you feel about Hiyori?” you ask again, and shouldn't feel that way when you see him flee from your gaze. You should scream, get angry, curse him, beg him for an explanation, cry, something. You don't overflow, you simply evaporate. You nod your head. The good thing about your fear, you think bitterly, is that you have feared so much in your imagination that now reality is not so painful. "Alright."

You turn and go with Usopp and Franky, who are playing with tools. Zoro stands there for a second, unable to move, unable to grasp what just happened. He call you, too quietly to even hear it himself. Was letting you go worse than having you around? The scar, his throat and his eye burned. Enma, as if waiting for the right moment to attack, attacked his new master again. As he struggled to control the sword, struggled to remember your smile. Zoro would cut the whole damn world to see you smile one last time.

You both do not speak again, avoiding being away from each other as much as can. If anyone else notices, they don't say anything. Luffy once asked why they didn't take more naps together, Zoro stepped forward and dodged the question how he dodges an attack. Nobody talked about it again. It's better that way. You don't think you have the strength to face it.

You lived the time until the great battle in a state of numbness. Nami and Usopp spent a lot of time with you trained hard, but also enjoyed spending time with Otama, the little girl with purple hair. It's fun to be together, playing and joking. Your cheeks hurt so much when Nami and Otama's prank works against Usopp. It's been a long time since you've laughed so much. It was refreshing before the big battle. And even though your heart continues to falter every time you see Zoro nearby and your eyes can't help but follow him, you think you're okay. But you miss him, you miss him so much.

But you're not the only one who seems to be having a difficult time. No matter the hours of hard training or the amount of alcohol in his system, Zoro simply can't stop thinking about your face, day and night. Seeing you laugh at Franky's dance, nights ago, reminded him how beautiful you're smiling. As your smile always brightened his days, calmed his storms and gave him peace in difficult times. But those smiles were not like the ones you used to give him, that magical glow was missing. His chest hurt. Seeing you from afar, without being able to get closer hurt, but especially seeing how your smile fell every time he was close to you. He was the reason of your sadness and pain. It felt like a betrayal of everything he was. He, who valued trust and loyalty so much, failed you. He couldn't be loyal to you, he didn't trust you. He can't put you at the top of his list, he can't give you what you deserve. He can't love you like you deserve to be loved. So Zoro does what he thinks is best for both of you: walk away.

The big day arrived. A few steps from the entrance to the Yonkou Kaido castle, disguised as his subjects, the big moment arrived. And Zoro broke down. He would like to say that it is your sexy outfit that makes him bend, and not the realization of the fear. Seeing you so willing, like him, to give everything of yourself, including your life, to see your Captain succeed. It hit him hard and straight in the face. It wasn't weakness he felt around you, was fear. An atrocious fear of losing you. To see you fall on the battlefield and not be able to do anything. The other time was Luffy who saved you, Zoro had not stopped blaming himself for it. Zoro had thought that you were going to die at that moment, in the hands of that feathered monster and not being able to do anything. It was stupid, he knows the dangers of the pirate life and that you're more than enough to fight and win, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't rejection, was fear. He had never felt so scared before. Roronoa Zoro is so afraid because he loves you so much.

While everyone jokes about the Kid Pirates, Zoro makes a decision. He's a man of action, you've told him before, so he will be one. Silently takes your wrist, avoiding how he miss your touch, and drags you away from everything. His bug hands take your shoulders and for a long minute can only see one another intensely. You can read the regret and pain in his gray irises. He can read the doubt and pain in your eyes. In both looks, you two can read the love.

Zoro opens his mouth to speak, but the words don't come out. You're same, speechless before the tide of feelings that invade you. Having it so close and so far at the same time is agony. Your heart beats excitedly, as if it knew something that you didn't. His sigh hits your face, a mix of mint and sake.

“Sorry” he apologizes and there is nothing but sincerity. And since he can't find any more words, he takes action.

His large, rough hands move from your shoulders to holding your face, carefully caressing every inch of your skin. It's a slow dance. Takes his time admiring you, in his desire to see your face light up again. A selfish desire to be the reason for your happiness. There's hesitation in his movements, uncharacteristic of Zoro, and you can feel his hands trembling. Insecure, almost fearful, but brave, he approaches until he bumps his nose into yours. The closeness takes your breath away and your body and heart crave his touch. As if reading your mind, close his eye before pressing his lips against yours. It's nothing more than that, a strong pressure, but you both understand everything that has not been said. As before, words are not necessary. The taste of yours mouths mixed with your salty tears. Zoro takes a step back, wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

“You're beautiful,” he says and you feel the shaking in his voice. “And I'm an idiot for hurting you so much, I- I... I was scared.”

"Fear?" You ask genuinely, you don't think Zoro felt afraid before.

“Of losing you” he confesses, joining your foreheads, holding you close, wanting to feel every part of you. “You're so stupid to die.”

“I won't Zoro,” you mutter, raising your head to get a better look at him. Your hand cups his blind side. “We won’t.”

“I promise you something,” his voice sounds much more confident and determined. From his side, still hugging you, pulls out Enma and rise above your heads. “We'll be victorious and Luffy is going to kick that old drunk's ass. Then I will return to you and make you my wife, in every sense” he promises with his eye fixed on you. “I will tell you how much I love you and how much you encourage me to be a better man, a better friend, a better person, a better adversary to our enemies. And I will protect you even from myself, and you will never feel sad again. And I want you to be sure that I am your man until the day hell claims my soul. You will never doubt again that I love you.”

Your heart beats as hard as you feel his against you. You want to hit him for making you so unhappy by being such an emotionally constipated idiot. But you love him too much. You close your eyes tightly, feeling the tears of happiness run down your face. You don't hesitate to grab him by the horns of his costume and pull him towards you. You kiss him with all the fervor of your love.

“I don't want a promise,” you tell him. "I want us to go kick all that ass, you come back to me and show that it's not just words."

Zoro can only kiss you fiercely, a kiss in which promises to fulfill his words with actions. He will come back and never let you go again.

[valeecruz16]

Read To Me While I Eat You Out (law)

Summary: You pissed off Law and now he makes you read a book...

Reader: AFAB Genre: Smut Disclaimer: Dom!Law, cunnilingus, mentions of jealousy, fingering, slight degradation, mention of choking, edge play, squirting, badly written ending, mention of Kid (yes, its a warning).

crossposted on ao3

You were nothing but a tease to Law. He didn’t—or so he says—appreciate how you’ve been teasing him the entire day. For you to waltz around and cause chaos within his inner thoughts, you were truly a risk-taker. It was the touching, the eye contact, your body language—which spoke louder than anything you’ve ever uttered—even down to your tone of voice, you were driving that man insane.

And there you were, as he walked into your shared room, he saw you lying on your stomach, chin on your clasped hands, almost as if you were waiting for him in your shared bed. You looked up to him, your fake innocence contrasted with the menacing smile you plastered into your face.  

“Oh, hey, Law,” you spoke, enthusiastically. He simply stood there with his arms crossed as you adjusted your position while he leaned against the wall.

“You’re a bold one, you know that?”

You just widened your eyes, shock plastered on your face—this is exactly what you wanted to hear from him. “What?! What the hell did I do?” You sat up as you feigned your confusion as Law began walking up to you and the scowl on his face was still drawn onto him the entire time, from the moment he walked into the room. God, did he look so hot when pissed off, no other thing could compare to the view you’re having.

“Quit pretendin’ being innocent, (y/n)-ya… you know what you did…”

His tone was hushed but it was still firm and intimidating. Even though that was your goal, you couldn’t help but feel small and slightly being preyed upon. You can’t back down just yet though, you have a mission you need to fulfill; you need to see what he can do to you after all this, after teasing him and edging his needs. “I have no idea what you were talking about,” You say as you backed yourself back into the headboard of the bed as Law got closer to the foot of the bed.

“You have no idea…” He scoffed with a snicker as he rolled his eyes at you, “What was that stunt you did earlier that you did in front of Kid, huh?”

He was talking about how you bent down to “grab the pen” that you “dropped” that just so happened to occur in front of him and Kid, an ally of his. Kid grabbed an eyeful at the sight of your ass in the tight pants you were wearing, even commenting about how lucky Law is and questioning how he can handle all of that, which made Law glare at him with scorn drawn on his face. Kid may have just laughed, but Law was not having it, as that was not the only thing you did to him, as you did continue to compliment him, touch him, or even question his strength and ask him if he could carry you while at it. You truly knew how to set him off.

“Oh, please I was not doing anything…” You tried to speak in a clueless tone, but you almost dropped the act as Law began crawling over to you, his eyes boring at you. You almost gulped at the sight of him getting closer but you still maintained your innocent façade that was about is break sometime soon. Law once again snickered as he knew he knew you too well, you knew you were trying to piss him off, but he was not about to give you your satisfaction.

Before staring into your smirking face, his eyes roaming from your sultry eyes to your half-quirked-up lips and down to your neck, he got up from his place, now making you genuinely confused. You knitted your brow as you looked at him approaching his shelf, “What are you doing?” You questioned, but you got no answer from your intimidating boyfriend, just humming to himself as he was rummaging through his shelf, almost as if he was looking for a specific book. His humming stopped as he let out an ‘aha!’ and got a small yet slightly thick book, and then walked back to you, back to his crawled-up position before sitting in front of you. Your eyes went from bewilderment to realization, as you felt like you knew what was coming, and you weren’t sure if you were ecstatic or nervous.

“Since you’re so smart at teasing me,” Law brings out the book and opens a chapter. After he hands you the book, you look at the page he opened, it was filled with text that was filled with medical texts that are heavy with information. Before you could say anything and without warning, he strips off your shorts and panties, making you gasp at the shocking action as you feel the cool breeze coursing in your sex. he then spreads your legs as he gets in between with his knees on the ground while your legs were dangling off his shoulders.

“Law, wh—"

“Read me the whole chapter. Pause or mess up and you can forget about coming. If you get any close before finishing a chapter, I’ll also stop. Finish the whole chapter and you can feel as good as you want… Think you can handle it?” Although the last statement was a question, Law said it in a ‘matter of fact’ manner, almost like there is no room for you to say no because he knew you’d agree, but he wants to hear it from you regardless.

You gulped as you looked up at him, suddenly those teasing eyes switched to obedience, as you simply nodded at him, and he shook his head, “No, speak up, loud and clear.”

“Y-yes, Law…”

———————

“Law! I c-can’—AH!” 

You screamed as you arched your back and you felt yourself getting closer with Law’s dangerous tongue circling your clit while his tattooed fingers would insert themselves into your sopping hole. When you first started reading, you felt yourself getting heated as Law began with a teasing tiny lick around your labia. You would moan now and then but you were merely doing fine, or so you thought.

When you murmured at the words as you started getting close and closed the book, Law immediately pulled himself off, which made you exasperated by his lips not being around your bundle of nerve and him opening the page from the beginning.

“W-why did you—” Your words were cut short as Law held your face, squishing it and making your eyes wide, “You thought I was fucking around? What did I tell you, huh?” His words were venomous, and you were whimpering at him, silently telling him that he couldn’t be serious, only for him to slightly shake your head before placing his hand under your jaw for you to speak.

“Answer me…”

“If I stopped reading then I’ll not get to come.”

Law smirked menacingly at you as you lost at your own game, or maybe won depending on what context you were trying to get, he patted your cheek as he handed you back the book, and went back to his position, before gruffly telling you,

“Keep reading…”

And he just had to pick the longest chapter of a boring medical book, and he would look up at you while his tongue would abuse your clit while you “read” out his book. You tried, and Law could see that, but he truly gets off to you suffering in this way; being broken all thanks to him, whether it’d be his tongue, fingers, cock, or all. He would even shake his head in fake curiosity just to tease you, even letting out an “aha?…” while his tongue was going in and out of your dripping hole.

He would teasingly let go of his tongue while thrusting his middle and ring finger in and out, letting out a teasing coo, “oh, yeah? Tell me more, baby…” through your fucked out reading.

You were a mess all thanks to his edging, when you stumble on your words, he would tell you to repeat. If you pause, he will first start slapping your thigh and/or your clit to get you to keep going but if you paused for too long, then you’ll have to repeat. you were truly losing yourself, and you were loving it, and Law could sense that with the way you kept messing up.

And here you are now, twenty or more—you and Law have lost track of time— minutes later, down to the last page, and conveniently, you were getting close. As you begged out, Law could see you were having enough, and you did mess up by saying something that was not in the book, but instead of telling you to repeat, he decided to hand you mercy but not too much.

“C’mon, baby, you’re on your last page, you’re almost there,” He said encouragingly, meanwhile you shook your head telling him no while panting. He slowed down again, making you whine, “C’mon, finish up that last page, and you’ll get to come… unless you want me to tell you to rep—”

“Common diseases are known to be complex…”

Law smirked and chuckled as you began to frantically read the last few paragraphs while he proceeded to eat you out like it was his last meal. Once you finish the chapter, you throw away that book, and your hand card itself onto Law’s raven locks almost like its muscle memory while he essentially makes out with your clit while your hole is being penetrated by his skilled fingers.

“Oh, fuck, Law, I’m so close” You panted out your words as Law just hummed and continued his tongue and finger work. Your breathing began to be frantic as you screwed your eyes as shut as you felt like lava explosion out of a volcano. Your essence began to squirt out of your hole and covered Law’s lower half of his face. He removed his fingers as he began slurping onto the remaining juices you’d let out while you looked down astonished before throwing your head back to the mattress behind you.

Your eyes were closed until you felt a weight between you, your eyes slowly opened, blurry before your vision readjusted as you saw your smiling boyfriend looking down at you,

“You good?”

You just smiled back as you nodded, “Never been better…”

“Good… I hope I didn’t break you too much.”

You just chuckled and you shook your head, “No, you didn’t.” You responded, before getting up to crawl over to the other side of the bed, which made Law’s smile drop as he saw what you were getting. It was the same book you read to him through this.

His action mirrored how you acted when he handed you the book, but this time you pushed him onto the bed and you gave him the book of the same chapter. Now you straddled his hips as you began playing with the belt that wrapped around his pants and began unbuckling.

“Since you’re the medic here, I want you to read what I read and perhaps explain what it means…” You say with a smirk as Law’s eyes begin to bulge while the lower half of his face is covered in the book, you lean forward to whisper, “If you mess up, you can forget about coming. If you finish up, I’ll let you come in me without a drip out of me… sounds good?”

I guess you never lost your game after all.

characters are owned by oda. i will not tolerate nor accept translation, reposts on other websites, or plagiarism. divider made by mmadeinheavenn.

[valeecruz16]

Mr. Gaiman, is there any advice you would give to a fellow human being? (asking for a friend)

Be kind.

[valeecruz16]

HELP

Hello, ma friends.

I need your help, please!!

There’s a contest in which the comment with more likes would win a Sangoro Funko.

Please, help me with a like in my comment. It’d mean the world to me.

The first pic is the page and the second it’s my comment. -Val

[valeecruz16]

Hello sir.

Does it get better?

Yes. Sometimes it gets worse again too. But yes, it gets better.

[valeecruz16]

doing important research on this fine sunday morning

[valeecruz16]

Pretty Girl - Portgas D. Ace

I read this lovely little snippet by @mrsoharaa and felt the need to know what would happen next. Written with permission!

Check out my MasterList for more of my writing!

To be fair, Marco actually wasn’t teasing him this time. He’d been nose deep in a book and was just as deep in his thoughts when he’d made the request.

“Hey Ace, can you go and call” the first division commander squinted at the book, trying to recall the words but was clearly too distracted to, “can you call-we-what was-just call your pretty girl for me yoi?”

He wasn’t teasing him this time. 

Ace had just simply had enough.

//—----------

It had started in the morning? maybe afternoon? who knows what time it was…after some good old fashion pirate revelry until who knows what hour of the evening.

He’d woken up in some weird kinda angle on some random corner of the ship, with a bit of a headache. So like any other day, he made his way over to the kitchen to get some food to fix his problem. After all, if his head hurt, he probably just needed some food, right?

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the slick Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates,” the Division Commander in question blinked at his Fourth Division counterpart, his lips pulling up at the strange greeting.

What’d he mean by slick though? Just thinking about it made his head squeeze, so he decided to push it off until he had some food in his system.

“Thatch, I’m hungry,” he declared as he slumped himself on the kitchen counter, throwing his bottom half on a stool there, “gimme somethin’ to eat.”

“Comin’ right up,” the cook shot him an amused grin as he went about grabbing his disgruntled younger brother-in-arms some food.

“Hungover?” The question came from Ace’s side, where the head doctor sat, sipping on a cup of…well it wasn’t alcohol.

“Huh?” The younger man just blinked, trying to get the fog out of his brain. “Nah.” He rolled onto his side to better face his older brother. “Just got a headache.”

“Sounds like a hangover to me yoi,” the doc grinned over the rim of his mug.

Ace didn’t pay him much mind though, waiting for his food to arrive.

Though his silence seemed to encourage his companion, “especially with how much you drank last night.”

“Wasn’t that much,” he ruffled his hair in hopes to alleviate some of the pounding in his head.

“It was enough that you called a certain someone ‘pretty girl.’”

A moment of silence passed as Ace continued to aggressively knead at his scalp. His mind very sluggishly processing Marco’s words…he was just about to fall asleep again with how much his he-

HE DID WHAT?!

That blew all the fog and grog out of Ace’s brain and body, as he all but sprung to his feet in shock. The medic in front of him offered him little more than his usual lazy, lopsided grin.

The vertigo hit him right as the adrenaline wore off, and he was clutching to the counter to save himself from smacking into the ground. His grip only tightened as he heard footsteps from the other side of the counter rejoin them.

“Yo Ace, I fixed you a plate for your pretty girl too,” he chirped sliding over two plates, “if you wanted to go and deliver it to her.”

It had been a while since Pops had clobbered him, but the memory of his audacious, disastrous, flirty remark hit him much like one of Pops’ fists did. Of all things, he only came up with pretty girl? 

He-just-urgh-just-just where was his hat when he needed it? He resorted to using his hands to hide his face from the other two commanders. He didn’t need to see them to know they were grinning - they were just oozing with entertainment.

“Ah don’t worry slick,” he could hear Thatch’s voice getting closer, “I’d say she took it well enough.”

The way the cook only barely got his sentence out before he and Marco broke out into snickers said otherwise. Ace grabbed his plate of food and moved to find a different corner of the massive galleon to eat in.

For the next few days, the different commanders would wink, snicker, smirk, borderline leer at him whenever you were in his general vicinity. They weren’t subtle about it, given pirates were generally as subtle as a sea king on land. They didn’t have to say it out loud for him to hear it though: 

“Pretty girl.” 

The behavior spread to the rest of the crew like wildfire. He’d have compared the spread to some nasty disease, but those usually knocked people out. Unfortunately this one seemed to rile them up, everyone seemed overly eager to be able to poke at him for his drunken declaration. By the end of the week, even the swabbies were in on it. They weren’t as bad as the commanders, but…ugh. Just…anyhow you’d think that, after a week, it would become old news, but no. 

Nope. 

Not this news. 

Seems everyone on this damn ship was a gossip. Grown ass grizzled pirates, reduced to giggling gossiping gaggles of gremlins. The Second Division Commander couldn’t go for more than a few hours without hearing some kinda comment, or getting some kinda look. 

Even pops was in on it now! 

He’d found out when the old man had grinned at him, what was worse was that it was a good-natured grin. He wasn’t teasing him…but what he said to him, as a kind of encouragement, had left this poor son of Whitebeard feeling more flustered than ever.

Unfortunately all his attempts at getting the crew to cut it out were falling on deaf ears. His fellow commanders in particular had no problem ignoring his requests and continuing to tease him, which of course emboldened the rest of the crew. 

Of course the worst part had to be…well, there was no way you didn’t know about what was happening. After all, you always put on an unbothered face, but he knew it had to be making you uncomfortable. After all it wasn’t like he’d ever followed up on that pretty girl comment while sober. Though he wouldn’t deny the little amused simpers that you’d put on whenever your fellow crew mates would leer at him had his heart doing little flips.

Anyway…

Things had finally died down a bit, with Ace getting some peace of mind. People had finally gotten bored. Meaning he could probably try…y’know…approaching you while sober…

Well they’d mostly died down…

//—--

“SHE IS PRETTY ALRIGHT?!” Yeah he’d had enough. “Do none of y'all have eyes?!” He raged on, over a week’s worth of agitation erupting from him violently. 

“So what if I called her pretty girl?” There was a kind of catharsis in seeing the First Division Commander staring at him bug-eyed. “It wasn't a lie!” He threw his hands up in agitation. “That's for sure.”

“Uh A-”

“Like you all don't state the obvious sometimes!” He pointed an accusatory finger at everyone who was in the infirmary…which wasn’t much, but Thatch hadn’t left yet and he was one of the guys that teased him the most!

“A-”

“And!” He was burning up the whole place and there was no stopping him. “I never said she was my pretty girl! I just said she was a pretty girl!” Little flickers of fire left his shoulders. “And she definitely is pretty!” He flexed his fingers. “Gorgeous, beautiful, pretty, all the words that mean that!”

The Second Division Commander’s chest and shoulders heaved from the way he was panting after his rant. Man it felt good to get it off his chest.

He shook his head, getting the remaining frustration out before rolling his shoulders out. He felt a whole lot better. He stretched his neck, before turning to look at his stunned fellow commanders.

“Hey Thatch, I’m hungry,” he grinned, “can you make me something to eat? Or should I just go raid the fridge?”

That seemed to snap the cook out of it, “keep yourself out of my fridge and out of my kitchen hotshot!”

“Uh…Ace,” the fiery man turned to look at the medic that had sparked this outburst.

“Oh Marco, what did you need again?” He’d asked him to do something before mentioning you.

“It’s no problem yoi,” strange, the doctor seemed to be looking behind him.

Was there someone behind him? The young commander turned around - 

Shoot.

He hadn’t said anything negative! But dang what he said sure as hell was damning. He must sound like a total creep. Just going on and on about how pretty he thinks you are. Could someone just launch him into the sea?

It didn’t help that the most unrelenting of the division commanders were here to see this horrifying display. They weren’t ever going to let him live this dow-

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, hope pulling your lips up tentatively. “Even while sober?”

Ace managed to nod at that.

Gosh he felt stupid. This wasn’t how he wanted to do it. Why was he so trash at trying to compliment you?

“Well I think you’re pretty too,” you gave him a good-natured smile, “so there, we’re even.”

“Really?” Gah! Why was that the first thing out of his mouth?

Oh gosh it was so cute the way you fiddled with your fingers. You only ever did that when you were nervous-you only ever did that when you were nervous.

“I mean,” you grinned, “haven’t you ever looked in a mirror Ace?”

Ace was sure he’d turned his face to fire at that point. He was here fumbling over his feet like a baby dear, and you were so smooth, you might as well be polishing the deck with wax.

“Um, in case that wasn’t clear,” you continued, “yes, really Ace, you’re pretty.”

Thatch let out a low whistle then, “well would you look at that,” he grinned, “a pretty boy for a pretty girl.”

“Stop teasing him Thatch,” you sighed, shooting the cook a look, “you’ve all teased him more than enough already.”

“Yo,” the longtime resident of the infirmary called out to you, “I was actually going to send Ace to find you yoi.”

“Oh did you need something Marco?” You walked further into the room, passing by the stunned pretty boy.

“Were you busy today yoi?”

“Not really, why? Did you need help?”

You thought he was pretty too? 

Would you consider, maybe, going out on a date? He couldn’t help but stare at you as you continued to talk with his First Division Counterpart. He wasn’t about to ask you here, in front of these jerks, but maybe later…

Maybe later…

When you were sitting on the bow looking up at the stars that dotted the night sky. He’d ask you. 

And you’d say yes.

[valeecruz16]

happy valentines ♡

roronoa zoro x fem!reader / established relationship / fluff

“for you.”

zoro thrusts the small bunch of picked flowers rather unceremoniously towards you. from the way his jaw is clenched and how his fist is almost sapping the life out of the little arrangement of flowers, you can tell the swordsman isn’t accustomed to offering a heartfelt gift. but even though his approach isn’t exactly romantic, the meaning is there all the same.

“did you pick those?” you ask softly, placing a gentle hand over his bruising fist to ease the tension in his hand, allowing you to retrieve the flowers from his grasp, “they’re beautiful, ‘ro. thank you.”

“yeah, well,” he scratches the back of his neck, a rare nervous disposition about the large man before you, “the cook said somethin’ bout valentines, so…”

“sanji wouldn’t miss valentines for the world, sappy devil,” you giggle, smelling the freshness of the flowers zoro had clearly spent time collecting for you, “they smell delightful. such pretty colours, too.”

“sorry it’s not… from a store or somethin’,” he said, leaning against the ship’s railing, eyes fixed to the ground and hands in his pockets, “i, uh, don’t have loads of berries, so i just…”

you watch as he tries to explain why he hasn’t just placed a diamond encrusted necklace into your hands. as if the gift he had gone out to personally pick for you wasn’t enough. zoro was aware that sanji had gifted each of the girls a small heart shaped chocolate cake he’d baked first thing that morning, leaving them outside of your rooms with a scented card that read: “mon ami, happy valentines.”

zoro can’t bake. or cook. or craft like usopp can. he’s just a swordsman, he doesn’t have any delicate skills like that. but he remembered, a while back whilst exploring an island the sunny had docked at, you were entranced by the different types of flowers you’d never seen before; smelling each of them and then asking him to in turn. it wasn’t something zoro would normally do, but he smelt them anyway because it pleased you, and spread a sweet smile across your face.

all he ever wanted to do was make you do that. smile.

he feels your warm palm against his face, and looks up to meet your soft, welcoming eyes. you’ve always looked at him like that - like you accept him. there’s no one around, the sun setting in the distance and a gentle, calm lap of the ocean at the base of the sunny. zoro made sure to catch you alone, as to not entice the others to ruin the moment.

with a swipe of your thumb across his cheek bone, you reach up and plant a kiss to his cheek. his eyes close with content, soaking up the feeling of your tenderness. a tenderness he never knew he needed.

“zoro,” you say his name with a soft voice, and all at once the worries burdening his shoulders are lifted, and his body, his mind, feel at ease, “i don’t need you to buy me anything. i would take flowers you’ve picked yourself over anything berries can buy,” his hands leave his pockets and you feel them take your waist, squeezing lightly, “besides, i have everything i already need, right here.”

your run your hand down his bare chest, the shirt sitting on his back getting caught in the warm wind that sweeps across the deck. his eyes never leave you, watching every move you make as your lips press against his collarbone, causing a shiver to run down his spine. “i love you.” you mutter against his olive skin, and the grip on your waist tightens.

his large hand snakes around the back of your neck, gathering your attention, and he leans down to capture your lips in a deep kiss. zoro kisses with such passion, such meaning. he’s not great with words, everyone knows that, and expressing his feelings for you has always been a challenge. so, he does what he knows best; kisses you like he’s never going to get the chance to again.

“i love you,” he mumbles into the kiss, words you don’t get to hear very often, but are a pleasure when you do. it’s not that he doesn’t want to say it - he just finds it hard sometimes. but you know that. you know him, and his actions have always spoken in tenfolds. when he pulls away, he lingers close, so you take the opportunity to press one more quick peck to his mouth. it’s not very often you’re alone, after all.

“c’mon,” you say quietly, taking his hand in yours and lacing your fingers together, “let’s find a nice place to keep them, yeah?”

i do not own one piece or any characters associated with it

[valeecruz16]

Imagine calling Law ‘Captain-kun’ by accident while helping Bepo with his costume...

“Y/n, I need you to help Shachi with the- are you listening to me?”

You were scrambling around the room gathering varying styles of fabric and materials in light and dark shades. You had noticed the captain of the Polar Tang walk in but you were far too occupied.

“Sorry, I’m in a bit of a rush to work on something for Bepo.” You passed him on the way to the door, absentmindedly pressing a feathered kiss to his cheek. “I’ll help Shachi later, Captain-kun.”

Dashing out as quick as possible, your eyes drew down to the items in your arms, mind wandering to the bear in dire need of your creative assistance.

Scissors, glue, red fabric, kiss…

You nearly bumped into Penguin and a few other crew members in the rush, throwing out your mental list. Rounding the corner, you entered the room where Bepo was waiting. His paws rubbing together nervously as he looked at the various costume items that he had gathered on the floor.

“I’m back. Don’t worry. We’ll patch something great for you to wear at the show.” You assured and added the items in your hand to the small pile. “There’s different kinds of fabric and a leather belt that Shachi wasn’t using.”

“Did the captain see you?” Bepo asked and you knew how he had been denied to attend at first by the stoic leader.

“He was there and saying something about-”

Captain-kun…

You gasped and dropped a roll of ribbon you had been holding, fingers flying to your lips. Heartbeat drumming against your chest, your whole body suddenly felt uncomfortably warm.

How had you been so distracted? He was your temporary Captain and you treated him like a lover who had done this dance many times.

“I called him… I can’t believe I said it out loud.” You buried your face in your hands. How did you let this happen? You were due back to the Thousand Sunny in a few days. You shouldn’t have let these feelings grow.

Bepo’s eyes widened when he pieced it together - you were in love with Trafalgar Law.

“Captain!” He squealed and sped out of the room quicker than your mind could register.

Shit.

Collecting yourself, you rushed out and chased after the damn bear. If he spoke to Law, it would make things so much worse.

Zipping through the corridors, you ran back to the spare room barging through the doors and starling a few other crew members. They looked at you with puzzled expressions before returning to their business. Scanning the area, you saw no trace of fluffy ears or a spotted hat and your stomach dropped.

Where were they? Retracing your steps to outside the door, you turned to the left and stared at an empty corridor.

The library. Law’s usual haunt.

You took off in that direction desperately hoping that you weren’t too late. It was another series of twists and turns aboard the ship and you’d be sure to mention it to the Heart Pirate Captain on your way out.

When you made the last turn, it was a beeline to the library and as you neared, there was a black, white and orange object drawing close.

Bepo. He seemed frightened and was… running away?

Whatever he was up to didn’t matter. As you started to get a clearer sight, you stretched your arms forward with every intention to latch on to the furball when - very suddenly - you were enveloped in a blue light.

~ More imagines here ~

A/n: To be continued? I've actually yet to get to Law in the anime but I've seen so many clips, I just couldn't resist! x

Happy Valentine's Day!

[valeecruz16]

note: this has some angst and maybe slightly suggestive comment towards the end but, i’ve accidentally fallen down the Luffy brainrot because… he’s so me so enjoy some fluff !! requests are still open btw!!

Good Enough

Luffy x GN!Reader (Words: 731)

You had wandered the whole ship trying to find Luffy with no luck, you looked all the way up and his normal places but he was no where to be seen. You were worried, not only because he was your captain but because he was your partner. He never avoided you, he was always around you any moment of the day that he could be and here he was missing from the spot that held you.

You finally decided to go below deck, down to the bottom where most of the treasures were hidden. You scanned the area and when you thought you saw nothing you turned leave before you hear a sniffle, you turned back around and scanned the area one more time before you heard the sniffle again. You found which direction it was coming from and followed the sound, almost as if you were using echolocation. After a few checks behind some chests you finally found the source of the crying.

It was Luffy, he was crying?

Luffy was usually the happy type and never did he cry when normally on the ship unless something terrible happened. Yet here he was crying as if something horrible had happened, “Luffy?” You called out to him and watched as his head snapped to look at you then immediately be covers himself with his hands. “Luffy…” You said in a more worried and soft tone, moving around the chest he was hidden behind and knelt down in front of him. You stared at him for a moment before you reached up to his hands, grabbing them in yours and lowering them.

“Why are you crying?” You asked and watched as his eyes watered more, “Nothin..” He responded attempting to pull his hands back up to cover his face but you pushed back and Luffy knew to never fight against your touch. “Luffy, be honest with my honey.” You tell him and move closer to sit next to him, He stares at you as his brows dipped down in a saddened expression and his eyes scanned your face. “I… I heard Sanji and Nami talking about you.. then me… and how you seemed upset because I didn’t love you intimately enough..” The words spilled out of his mouth without a second of hesitation and your heart dropped.

Your head began to shake as an immediate response, “Oh Luffy…” You cooed bringing your hand up to cup his cheek to which he responded by leaning against your hand. “I’m not upset over that, if anything I’m worried about you.” You tell him and his eyes lock with yours finally after avoiding contact for so long. “I’m worried for your safety but that’s something that I’ll always worry about, even if I know you aren’t in any danger. Which I doubt will ever happen but… I don’t care if you are intimate with me or not. I love you for you.” You comforted him with your words and you could tell by the way his body relaxed more into your touch and the way the water in his eyes slowly dried up.

“I love how optimistic you are.” You tell him, you remove your other hand from his to cup his other cheek. “I love you.” You whispered, only for him to hear so he knew you meant it just for him and for no one else. “I love you more.” He responded in the same whispered tone but with a excitement present. You smiled as you watched your captain become himself again, not only that but Luffy was becoming Luffy again. You stared at him and admired the scar that decorated his upper cheek, the way his eyelashes looked on his eyes, and how his eyes looked at you with so many words that he never knew how to say. He stared back, admiring your features, eyes, eyebrows, nose, cheeks and finally your lips.

He wasted no time, pressing his lips excitedly against yours as he still held the smile on his face. You didn’t fight it, you happily kissed him back.

You loved Luffy for who he was not because he showered you in treasures or treated you in bed, but because he was there to be the light in the darkness and to hold you when it was cold. He was perfect.

[valeecruz16]

compilation of the one piece royal au designs i came up with