#A Clear Sky: Galaxy

[autumna-potentia]

“Where’d I put that thing?” Blake thought as they figuratively danced around the house to gather the tools needed for the making of this gift for Hax.  

They had transformed their chicken into a small workstation, tools laid out over an older tower that they didn’t use anymore. 

“It’s so cheesy” Galaxy teased as she watched Blake slowly shape the spoon. “Maybe we can call them lemon muffin as an endearment.” 

This went back and forth as the metal was cut, bent and carved slowly but surely into the shape of a cartoonish muffin. They hoped Hax would like it. 

[anitharajastro]

The Danish Telescope 😍

At ESO's La Silla Observatory, Chile 🔥

[galeriette]

Supermoon 08/12/2022

[benetnvsch]

I made my bed at like 10 pm in an attempt to try and go to sleep at a reasonable time tonight but somehow it’s now 2 am and I’m out lying on my trampoline looking up at the stars while listening to my favorite album instead- life do be like that sometimes huh

[andypantsx3]

𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 : 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: 1.7k of unedited alien prince shouto thoughts based on this post from the other day! sfw, gender neutral reader. several elements of this universe were borrowed from my fave sci-fi novel; see end notes for deets!

he's beautiful—the todoroki prince. tall and strong in his high-collared uniform, strapped with lean muscle and handsomely humanoid. he's the first thing that snares your gaze as your party is guided into the hall of the sun—the reception dome that overlooks the rise of the star yuuei in the morning sky, used by the ruling family to receive visiting dignitaries.

it is morning, in endeavorian planetary time, and the sun has begun to rise. its light is weaker than you remember from back home—almost watery, pooling like quicksilver in the panes of the dome's ceiling.

up at the front of the hall, it catches in the strands of the white half of the prince's hair. from what izuku has told you, it's the half that indicates he's part of the himura bloodline. the himura dynasty has ruled the yuuei system from its capital planet of endeavor iv for tens of thousands of earth-years. it's the second longest line of unbroken rulers in mapped galactic history, an impressive feat.

the other half of the prince's hair is a fiery red, like that of the man who stands next to him—todoroki enji, the general of intergalactic renown, who donated half of prince shouto's genome as well as his clan name. each time a himuran royal from the main line marries, izuku had explained, talking at lightspeed in the podship, they take a branch name, typically sourced from the primary gene-donator. it helps keep inheritance lines clear.

prince shouto looks like he's inherited empress rei and todoroki enji's genes in exactly half—his coloring split down the middle, though his features are perfectly, almost hauntingly symmetrical. he wears a pin of flint at his collar that symbolizes his gender—one of yuuei's thirteen official designations. from what you understand from izuku, it most closely aligns with earth designation "man".

it's embarrassing how much you notice about the prince as you file into the hall, stationing yourself right at the gap between izuku and tenya's shoulders, so you can still see todoroki shouto.

"you don't think they'll reject the treaty and kill us all, do you?" denki mumurs nervously as he presses in behind you.

"no, i don't think so," izuku's gentle voice drifts back to you. he's a three-star ethnologist, studying for a command ethnology post. subsequently he's the most informed of any of the cadets that have been sent along with the treatise party. you and denki are just mechanics, sent along in case anything goes wrong.

"the alliance would be too much trouble for the yuuei," izuku explains. "they have good relations with the surrounding galaxies and tight control over a lot of resources. but the alliance is really large now, compared to the last time they approached the yuuei. they'll likely want to accept at least a loose federation with the allies."

up on the platform at the front of the hall, prince shouto blinks long and slow, like an earth cat. you realize with a start it's the first time you've seen him blink at all, and the subtle reminder that he is not just an extraordinarily handsome human man but the prince of an alien species makes your skin prickle.

"don't you think it's weird they are all this pretty?" denki asks. "it's weird, right?"

"definitely weird," you laugh, your eyes trailing over prince shouto's blade-straight nose, his pert, perfect mouth. "possibly illegal under intergalatic law."

prince shouto stills all of a sudden, and there is the tiniest tilt of his head. two heterochromatic eyes flick over your way, and you are completely embarrassed by the way your stomach swoops in response. you just manage not to grab onto tenya's uniform to steady yourself.

one of the prince's eyebrow arches almost imperceptibly, and you wonder if he's heard you from this distance—but no, that would be insane.

denki picks up his commentary, emboldened by your playing along. you think the prince's eyes linger just a little too long on the gap between izuku and tenya's shoulders, but then you're distracted by the reception beginning.

the alliance treaty officer strides forward, flanked by a few of the other officials your crew had ferried here. she performs an elaborate bow, as do the other officials. from izuku's muttering you gather it's some sort of ritualistic greeting, and empress rei at least looks pleased with it, waving a gentle hand to gesture the party forward.

there is some shuffling as various aides set up a table and a series of holo-tablets, along with various inks, a leathery roll of endeavorian traditional parchment, and—

"is that a knife?" you ask, peering at the long obsidian blade placed on the table in front of the officials.

izuku's fluffy head of green curls inclines. "treaties are sealed twice. once in the alliance fashion and then again in the local custom, to make it binding per both systems. blood pacts have been used in yuuei for millennia."

the brush of something over your face has your gaze turning back to the prince—to find him staring straight at you, those unblinking eyes boring into you.

"izuku, weird question. can the yuuei hear across rooms?" you ask, suddenly self-conscious.

a green eye peers back at you. "only in the event of their pair bonds—the yuuei are documented hearing their matepair across approximately ten earth-kilometers. i think we're safe over here though. why?"

matepair. the world settles strangely under your skin, as the prince's eyes brush across it.

"uh, matepair?" you echo.

tenya gives both you and izuku a quelling look, but it's not enough to deter izuku from ducking down to explain in slightly quieter tones. "the yuuei look human but they pair differently. they form a parapsychic bond with only a single partner, which they maintain and uphold for life. it's not just cultural—it's like a physical compulsion. they cannot take another pair, and they cannot be separated for long periods or they grow sick."

prince shouto is still staring straight at you, and it's not quite comforting enough to know that he cannot possibly hear you.

it's only his role in the ceremony that seems to eventually break the prince's weird focus in your direction. he steps forward to perform his duty as empress rei's chosen heir. you almost flinch as the knife draws across the pale skin of his palm, and he adds several drips of silvery blood to the parchment, symbolizing yuuei's intent to uphold the treaty across future monarchs.

the flesh of his palm knits itself back together in seconds, and another little shiver goes up your spine. those mismatched eyes flash back your way as he steps back, and the various aides and officials once again converge on the documents.

there is a brief flurry of activity, various bows and oaths, some stilted endeavorian verse. the chief treaty officer looks relieved when it's all over, and the royal family steps down from the dais to greet the rest of the visiting party, as is the customary honor granted to allies to the yuuei. tenya ushers you into the queue near the back with denki, a symbol of your lower status as mechanics.

you don't mind, as the thought of reaching prince shouto has your stomach doing what feel like backflips in your gut. the longer the delay the better.

izuku had walked everyone through the appropriate greetings on the podship, a few murmured words and a hand touch at chest-level—extremely hard to mess up, even for you. but nevertheless your pulse kicks up the closer you draw to the royal family.

there's a long line of them you greet first. offshoot branch members, then general todoroki enji, whose enormous palm burns hot against yours and who looks he'd rather take your party's hands off than touch them. then rei's unchosen heirs—the princess fuyumi, prince natsuo—and a gap where prince touya would have stood, were he not offworld.

and then you're standing in front of prince shouto, your pulse pounding in your ears. he's extremely tall up close, clearing six feet easily, broad across the shoulders and handsome in a way that almost makes your teeth ache. the yuuei look deceptively human, but this near you can see the tiny details that separate them from you—the slight double-point to their ears, the silvery undertone to their skin, the prolonged space between their breaths and their blinks.

and of course their inhuman beauty. they don't quite look like regular people, and it sparks a tiny note of wariness in the primeval part of your human hindbrain.

prince shouto's mismatched eyes pin you, silver and blue, as a sudden, silvery flush creeps across his face. you hold your hand out in greeting, trying not to wonder if you've somehow managed to offend him already—but instead of pressing his palm against yours, his long fingers suddenly grasp yours, clasping tightly.

beyond him, empress rei freezes too. all at once you can feel every single himuran noble turn to look at you, hundreds of eyes pinning on you.

reflexively, words tumble out of you. "shit did i—what did i do? were you supposed to get a different hand thingy?"

you can hear the treaty officer's horrified inhale at the terms shit and hand thingy, deployed in crass galactic standard in front of a literal prince. you immediately wish you could take them back, but from the look on the prince's face, he's already heard them.

something at the corner of his mouth twitches, like he's trying not to smile.

"y/n," he says, in a deep tone. it's crisply accented and just as beautiful as the rest of him.

it takes you a second to realize prince shouto has used your name, which he could not possibly know considering the uniform you'd been issued for the yuuei visit has no unique identifiers on it. you glance down at yourself, then back up at him, befuddled.

"how did you—? where did you—?" you garble out. "did denki put you up to this? how do you know me?"

prince shouto's fingers smooth over yours, delightfully warm, calloused and sure. "i would know you in any universe," he says, voice soft. behind you, you hear princess fuyumi make a tiny sound of delight.

you blink. "universe? what—uh, what universe? how would you—?"

but shouto leans in, tugging you closer with those deceptively strong fingers. he's so very warm up close, and so beautiful it makes your brain short circuit, especially as he lowers his face to yours. a shiver rolls down your spine as his other hand takes you gently by the chin.

and then he murmurs a single word before pressing his mouth to yours—

"matepair."

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: credits where they are due!! the idea of a space general dna donator, an overarching space alliance pursuing a treaty, & the flint pin denoting gender were taken from my fave sci-fi novel winter's orbit by everina maxwell! (if you love heartfelt gay love stories in space i am actually begging you to read it).

[mishacollins]

Time.

I’m at home alone with COVID, which is giving me time to naval-gaze and empty my inbox. In that inbox, I discovered that my friend Alex Gorosh (director of my series RoadFood) sent me this little documentary short on the topic of time.

For some reason, the unfathomable magnitude of space and time has always been a great source of comfort to me. I remember feeling miserable as a teenager and looking up at the stars of the night sky and taking great comfort in the fact that I was just a speck on this tiny blue planet in an ever-expanding universe of quintillions of planets. Looking up at the night sky on a clear night in New England as a kid I could see faint glow of the milky way—hundreds of billions of stars so distant they ceased to be points of light, but together they added up to a dusty smudge of luminosity across the sky—and all of the stars the Milky Way are in our own galaxy! And there are hundreds of billions of stars in hundreds of billions of other galaxies in this universe. To my high school mind all of this comforted me, because how could my little problems ever feel big when held up to the enormity of everything.

I always remember being soothed by the vastness of the universe, but when I was 40, I read “Annals of the Former World,” a tome on geology by John McPhee. The book beautifully illustrated the great expanse of geologic time, which so often exceeds the limits of our comprehension with this simple quote, “Consider the Earth’s history as the old measure of the English yard, the distance from the king’s nose to the tip of his outstretched hand. One stroke of a nail file on his middle finger erases human history.”

When I remember to remember, this too comforts me. The infinitesimally-small-smallness of my troubles helps them fade into nothing. Watching these few minutes on Youtube this morning, it was comforting to see that I am not alone in this perspective on our blink of time in this world. 

https://youtu.be/nOVvEbH2GC0

[ladykailitha]

The Fallen

I blame @vecnuthy for this entirely. Seeing all their Sleep Token posts has completely intersected with Steddie and you get this.

***

Modern AU: Corroded Coffin makes it big. Like Metallica levels huge. Like every up and coming metal band is clamoring to open for them levels of fame. When this metal band, The Fallen comes on the scene and are dismissed as glam rock wannabes.

They are very theatrical. They are dressed in long coats with hoods and face masks. The guitarist, bassist, and drummer all have full Venetian masks of different colors. The bassist has one that looks like a starry night (but not Starry Night if you know what I mean). The Guitarist has a red devil’s mask, horns and all. The drummer is in a black death mask. The eyes of the mask are closed and it looks eerie as fuck. The most dramatic of the masks belong to the lead singer. He wears an opaque white lace mask with the mouth and chin cut out so he can sing.

Their outfits match their masks.

The lead singer, Abbadon, the fallen angel is in all in white with a splash of color on the lining of his coat. Sometimes it’s pink or baby blue, sometimes it one of the colors of bandmates, black or red or starry midnight blue. He wears high heeled boats and not always of the combat variety. Once he wore stilettos with a baby blue stripe up the side. It’s the outfit that gets made into dolls and merch the most. Most of the time he’s shirtless, but has been known to switch it up with lace or sheer tops.

The guitarist plays up the devil persona to a tee and calls himself Asmodeus, the demon of lust. Red leather and fetish gear. Thick red combat boots. His guitar is even blood red.

The bassist is called Astraeus, the titan of the night. While in certain light his clothes look black, but they are in fact a dark blue with bright stars, swirling galaxies, and glowing nebulae. His bass is of the night sky as well.

And finally the drummer, Azrael. Angel of death. Always in black. His drum kit is black with black metal fittings. Even his drumsticks are black.

Like I said, at first dismissed as wannabes but they are killing it. It’s clear that not only are they talented, their flare for the dramatic adds to their mystique. Soon they are the new rising stars of metal.

Dustin is their biggest fan. He loves them. Eddie is offended at the highest level. How dare this little butthead like The Fallen. Dustin rolls his eyes.

“Dude, Corroded Coffin is still number one in my book,” he tells Eddie. “But you can’t deny that Abbadon is a beast on vocals.”

Eddie is forced to concede the point. Abbadon knows how to really get the through to the emotion of a song.

So when Dustin gets front row tickets to The Fallen’s concert in Indy, Eddie reluctantly joins the little twerp.

And the concert starts. First the drummer gets lowered into his seat on giant raven wings.

“Azrael!” the announcer calls out.

And the crowd goes wild.

The man slips out of the harness and wings ascend. Eddie cocks his head, yeah all right that’s kinda cool.

Azrael hits his drums and the bassist gets lowered on to the stage. All shimmering blues and purples, like actual stars, lands deftly on the stage and Azrael hits the high hat.

“Astraeus!”

The crowd is frantic now. Screaming and jumping up and down.

As soon as the wings are unstrapped and lifted away Astraeus riffs on his bass and the crowd eats it up.

Eddie likes this one. It’s unique.

Then Azrael starts up again as another man is lowered and it takes everything in Eddie’s power not to roll his eyes at this one. Red leather gear, horned mask, and fucking bat wings.

He stomps on the stage and really wails on his guitar. Eddie looks over to see that Dustin is absolutely eating it with the rest of them so he wisely keeps his mouth shut.

“Asmodeus!”

Dustin is vibrating so hard that Eddie’s fears he might literally crawl out of his skin with excitement.

And then the entire stadium goes silent. Like stock still. Eddie is looking around him confused.

He looks back at the stage and there descends the absolute most devastatingly handsome man Eddie has ever seen and he hasn’t seen his face.

His arms are out stretched and his head is bowed. Once he lands air cannons shoot out white feathers out at the crowd and the wings ascend without this man.

“Abbadon!” the announcer screams for the final time.

“Indy!” he shouts into his mouthpiece.

And the crowd screams could deafen the most resilient of metal goer.

Abbadon starts singing and the crowd is losing their god damn minds. And yeah, yeah. Eddie is one of them.

They’ve got a stage presence that can’t be manufactured.

And then about half way through the concert he sees it. Abbadon turns his head just right and holy fuck, Eddie is losing his mind for a different reason. He manages to take a picture with his phone before Abbadon turns.

After the concert Eddie grills Dustin about the band all the way home. But the only thing the kid knows is how awesome the band is.

He gets to the hotel and starts watching every interview with The Fallen ever. And he pulls up one from about a year or so back where Abbadon is talking about the masks.

Abbadon pulls out a black mask and holds it up to the light. “See? You can tell that the eyes have mesh covering over them. They work the way two way mirrors do. Azrael can see out of them just fine, but you can’t see in.”

There are a lot of impressed nods, Eddie is definitely one of them. That’s certainly a neat trick.

“So what’s the reason for the masks at all?” the interviewer asks.

Abbadon looks at the members of his band and they all nod. He licks his lips.

“Because if we had been ourselves when we started on the scene,” he said, “we would have be called posers and we wouldn’t have even gotten this far.”

Eddie paused the video and took a deep breath.

Fuck.

Just then Jeff wanders into the hotel room and looks at the TV.

“Is that The Fallen?”

Eddie hums. “Yup.”

Jeff grabs a drink from the mini-fridge and makes his way over. “Oh hey is that poser interview?”

Eddie hums again.

“He can’t really be serious about that,” Jeff says with a huff. “No one in the metal scene would call anyone posers, not if they truly loved the music.”

“We would have,” Eddie says with a finality that brings Jeff up short.

“The fuck we would have, man,” Jeff snaps. “There’s no way.”

“We would have it was Steve Harrington’s band.”

Jeff’s eyes go wide. “There is no way that’s Steve Harrington.”

Eddie pulls out his phone and zooms in on Abbadon’s neck. He hands his phone to Jeff.

“Okay so the dude has moles on his neck,” he says handing the phone back, “lots of people have them.”

Eddie goes through his phone and pulls up a picture of Steve. He’s not in the exact same pose but it’s close enough. He hands the phone to Jeff again.

Jeff squints and then zooms in.

“Holy fucking shit!”

Eddie drapes his hand over his mouth and purses his lips.

“Steve Harrington in a metal band,” Jeff says in awe. “All be damned.”

“When The Fallen came on the scene,” Eddie says dropping his hand so his talk, “we were outselling Metallica in records and ticket sales. If the rest of the band are preps like Steve we would have mocked them relentlessly.”

Jeff sits down hard on the sofa next to Eddie. “Shit.”

Eddie buries his head in his hands.

“We got to tell someone, man,” Jeff says. “This is huge!”

Eddie in his haste to look at Jeff accidentally hits the remote.

“Do you think you’ll ever do a reveal?” the interviewer asks.

Asmodeus leans over to speak in the microphone. “Ask us again in ten years if we’re still selling out crowds.”

Eddie fumbles it again, but manages to turn off the TV.

Jeff and he looks at each other.

“We can’t say shit, man,” Eddie hisses. “It would be like outing someone as gay or trans before they want to.”

Jeff slumps in his seat. “Fuck. Yeah. You’re right. Shit.”

They’re silent for a moment.

Eddie cocks his head to the side. “What I don’t get is how the kids don’t know.”

Jeff opens his mouth and then closes it. He shakes his head slowly. “Sorry but if I was Steve I wouldn’t tell them shit either.”

Eddie frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Look,” Jeff says turning to face him, “they’re great kids. Brilliant D&D players, nerds, geeks, and dorks the lot of them. But I would not trust them with a secret that big.”

Eddie thought about all the time that they accidentally blurted out something that didn’t make sense out of context, but once you knew, holy shit was it a miracle these kids didn’t get into more trouble.

“Yeah okay.”

After a moment of silence Eddie looks over and frowns at Jeff. “What are you doing my hotel room anyway?”

Jeff holds up his beer. “Your beer was cold, I forgot to put mine in the fridge when we got in.”

“Asshole,” Eddie grouses, bumping Jeff’s shoulder.

Jeff kisses his cheek. “You love me though.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

*

Steve is in his dressing room after their last concert of the tour for their second album scrubbing the hell out of his face because that mask is prone to giving him the worst breakouts, when he notices the blue roses.

He gets a lot of flowers but never blue roses. He rinses off his face and walks over to the them.

There’s a note and he thinks he recognizes the handwriting. It’s short and sweet and absolutely terrifying.

“I know your secret, sweetheart. But don’t worry, I’ll never tell.”

It’s not signed, but the ‘sweetheart’ gives it away.

He messages Robin.

“Get Eddie Munson in here right now!”

She protests that she doesn’t know where he is. But Steve knows he has to still be in the building and sure enough she finds Eddie waiting in the wings, looking smug as hell.

Her eyes go wide and cursing up a storm drags him into the dressing room.

She presses her back to the door.

“Who told?” she squeaks.

Eddie laughs. “No one, I swear.”

“Then how did you know?” Steve asks.

He hands Steve his phone with the picture he took at the concert. Robin wanders over to peak over Steve’s shoulder.

“So it’s a picture of his neck,” she murmurs.

But suddenly Steve gets it. “It’s my moles!”

Eddie nods, pressing his lips together so he doesn’t giggle.

“Shit!” Robin hisses. “Do you think anyone else figured it out?”

“I doubt it,” Eddie says with a shrug. “I’m just obsessive that way.”

“About moles?” Robin says with a frown.

“With Steve.”

Robin blinks. “Right I’m out of here.”

She closes the door behind her and they are left alone.

The night ends with Eddie in Steve’s bed asking him for The Fallen to join Corroded Coffin on their next tour next year and there is no way Steve could say no to that. His bandmates would kill him.

They go on tour and the hardest part is dodging rumors that Eddie is two timing Steve with Abbadon because when The Fallen and Corroded Coffin perform together they make out on stage.

Then for The Fallen’s ten anniversary they do a reveal and Dustin is livid.

Robin and Steve had been telling him for years that they were just low level PAs and not a famous rockstar and his equally mysterious manager.

They’re forgiven when Steve tells him that half the songs on the first album are about him and the rest of the kids.

***

This is just a rough draft. I might expand on it in full later.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child

[undercoverpena]

coming under the christmas tree

frankie morales x f!reader | masterlist

summary: The way he whispers your name should be a sin—it coating the air, making each letter feel important, essential—as your hands find his belt, undoing it, the sound cutting through all else, even burying a whispered expletive that falls from his tongue. “Do you know how hot you look right now, Morales?”

warnings: explicit. 18+. smut. literal porn from me. oral (m recieving), p in v, praise (jo has a thing, run with it), frankie being gorgeous, minor cock worship, christmas themes.

wordcount: 2.8k an: i wrote this little imagine and then the gorgeous, wonderful @wildemaven created this moodboard (which inspired the banner) and then i decided to write more.

Putting up a tree with anyone is a chore, but with him, it’s a blessing.

It isn’t because it’s him, because you’re dating, because he makes you laugh and makes your toes curl at any time of the day. But, rather, because he wants to do it. Because he’s methodical. Always thinking, turning—planning.

Whether it’s routes to get somewhere, timing on when to leave when the two of you have reservations or whether your grand plans for a room rearrangement, Frankie plots it out and makes measurements in his head. He’s always right, not that he ever gloats—just nods as though it’s entirely normal.

It isn’t—it’s fucking hot.

Something you expect, and thankfully do, come face to face with when the branches are all in place on the half-dressed Christmas tree. The clear plastic boxes strewn across the living room, his fingers slowly undoing and unknotting the lights you’d haphazardly thrown in the box last year.

You know the answer, but you ask all the same: “You want me to help with that?”

He doesn’t answer, just gives you a look. A blend of ‘be serious’ and ‘you’re good’ cuts across his features, making his eyes warmer and his smile kinder.

Before he even sets about winding them through the branches, you can tell he’s created a light-path. Already heard him mumbling that they don’t go all the way around, remember earlier. His eyes glancing up at it, making mental notes, calculating a route—brown eyes skating and shifting side to side.

You just remain on the floor, legs crossed—checking over the ornaments for nicks or scratches—admiring. You do it a lot, admire him, take him in—gawk, trace your eyes over him so when you blink you don’t waste a second not seeing him.

“We can always buy another set?” you offer, watching him bend behind the armchair, plugging them in, plunging the room in a soft, white glow.

Grinning, Frankie brushes some loose strands from over his eyes, “No need, baby. I’ve got it.”

He does. You weren’t surprised his devised path makes the base of the tree already look full—no section unlit, each bit of cable hidden from sight, blending perfectly with the tree. You were even sure if you turned it 180, the back currently in the corner would even be lit.

It isn’t that which makes your mouth drool.

It also isn’t the way the twinkle of the lights has hit the brown of his eyes when he lets his gaze fall to you, making it appear like a galaxy has burst in them—a sky full of stars, all staring at you.

No. It’s the way the entirety of him is lit up. Practically glowing. It enhances how stretched out he is, practically in a straight line. His arms above his head, fingers delicately wrapping the lights around the tip of the tree. It shines light over the slither of skin exposed from his shirt rising; it makes it more evident that his tongue is poking out, resting on his bottom lip, eyes trained on the job at hand, his priority, his task.

You flutter around nothing.

Feel your heart stammer in your chest as you devour the sight of him whole.

Placing the ornament in the good-to-hang pile, you don’t even pretend to glance at it. Too busy drinking in the sight of the lines on his arms from flexing—those strong, arms which carried the tree down from the attic. Little beads of sweat had clung to his forehead then, having needed to shift things around, move them—move baby, don’t want you to get hurt.

You were something akin to pain now. Desperate, needy and fucking feral. Your throat all dry while your tongue felt heavy, eyes sliding down his frame, focusing on the hairs on his stomach, all exposed, beckoning to be touched, to have your tongue slide down over it.

You only blink when he clears his throat, looking up, finding his eyes on you—tracing over your face, slightly narrowed, attempting to read you.

Another day, you might shy away from it. Look away first, wait until he calls your name and pleads for you to look at him. Today, you don’t. Slowly rising onto your knees, holding his stare, commanding him to blink as little as possible:

Watch me, Morales. Keep your eyes on me.

Sliding your tongue across your bottom lip, your teeth finding a resting place on it—fingers sliding to his hips, watching his hand release the lights, forehead smoothing, any and all confusing lines fading away.

The way he whispers your name should be a sin—it coating the air, making each letter feel important, essential—as your hands find his belt, undoing it, the sound cutting through all else, even burying a whispered expletive that falls from his tongue.

“Do you know how hot you look right now, Morales?”

Your fingers undo the button, tracing your tongue again over your lip—hungry, practically salivating—as you slide the zip through the teeth. His gaze is still on you, unwavering, a shadow of surprise in the back of his eyes that this is even happening—as though he is still taken back by the fact he deserves this, deserves you.

“You want me to suck your cock, baby?”

His swallow fills the room—loud, vociferous. Your palm brushes over the hardened bulge, tracing the outline over the thin cotton which remained a barrier between his velvet skin and your tongue.

“I really wanna suck your cock,” you add, purring, practically drooling as you notice the wet stain appearing—blooming, stretching out—as one hand falls from the tree, cupping the side of your mouth.

You like him like this, quiet, taken off guard. So often it is him doing it to you, saying all the right things, whispering all the words which make your skin feel like fire.

When you finally let his cock spring free, you waste no time licking a stripe up the side, tongue flat, brushing over veins as your hands tease the fabric down to the tops of his knees, resting on the jeans that remain there, pointless, likely mildly annoying for him. Not that he’ll care in a second. Less so for now when your fingers wrap around him, take his girth in your palm, warmth spreading over your palm as you slowly pump him up and down, collecting your first few hisses, and a little groan.

You marvel at him—at his cock. How thick it is, how long. How you know it feels between your thighs, how it makes your toes curl. Pressing kissing to the leaking tip, wrapping your lips around the head, hand working the length of him as you make your lips slick, coat them in desire, before you take as much of him as you can. Your tongue pressed to the underside, mouth basked in the taste of salt and just him, as your jaw stretched to accommodate him, to willfully take more, and more.

“Don’t know—fuck, baby—what I did to deserve you.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, burning under the praise, under his praise. Your head bobbing, wanting to show gratitude by taking more of him. Cheeks hollowing, his fingers sliding around the back of your head, a comforting hold, a calming one as you relax your throat, wanting to be full of him. Fiercely so.

Tears even prick at your eyes, and your fingers dig into the back of his thighs, lifting off, swirling your tongue around him, running your teeth lightly over him, before swallowing as much of him as you can. Willing for him to smear your throat in him, leave you tasting him with each swallow for the rest of the afternoon.

“Wanna fin—fuck—ish inside you,” he grunts, curls plastered to his forehead, cheeks flushed—neck stained in pink.

You moan in response, closing your lips around him as you’re sure your underwear is clinging to you, drenched in want.

You’re half-tempted to slide your fingers inside the band of your shorts, passed the red lace you chose this morning, not even sure if you’d be unwrapped before or after the erection of the tree. Midway through hadn’t crossed your mind. Had never counted on this, never would have made a bet.

But, then he drags himself out, tip hovering at your lips giving you a look—sharp, uncharacteristic of him. “I want to fuck you, baby. Make you feel good.”

Tongue swirling over, he appears to shudder, eyes fluttering, before he pulls the rest free from your mouth. Spit smearing your lip, snapped in the space between where the two of you had been connected.

“You always make me feel good, Frankie.”

Smirking, his arm flexes briefly as he takes hold of his cock. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

And you don’t miss the reference. Not so drunk on him that you don’t remember your own words from before—but you just nod. A retort growing and dying, as you do.

“Spread your legs and show me.”

And you do. Leaning back, sliding onto your rear, your fingers slide your clothing down your legs, kicking it off past your ankles, passed the fluffy socks you’d stolen from him. Bare from the waist down, just for him—always for him. Letting your arms support you from behind, you tilt your head. In awe of him once again as he wraps his hand around his cock, the size even more impressive when you know how big his hands are—your own nails digging into the rug under your palms and ass.

“C’mon, show me you want me.”

You whimper, spreading your knees, letting them part until they’re hovering just above the floor on either side.

The cool air kissing over you, a gasp desperate to emerge but dies somewhere in your throat—swallowed up by a moan at the way he views you. The way his eyes rake up and down you like this is the first time he’s seen you, and not the billionth.

Like all the things he does, it’s with precision the way he rids himself of being contained by his jeans and underwear. Lowering himself to his knees between yours, you lean forward, lips finding his—messy, needy. Need you, they kiss, fuck me, they plead.

His mouth remains on you, only letting enough words escape to tell you to keep his jumper on when your fingers slide his t-shirt up and over his head. He rewards your obedience by letting his hand fall from himself to you—tracing, languid circles on your swollen clit, until he pushes two fingers in. You shift your hips into him, hearing him moan distantly at the feel of how wet you are, whispered praises given that are too far away as your mind rendered nothing (emptied, lost)—

Because he’s electric, you swear. Not even sure the lights need plugging in, you swear he could touch them and they’d illuminate—at least from the way he sparks enough in you to light the whole house up. Making it run, dart, a heavy current that dashes through your veins.

It’s why you whimper at the loss of him—only stopping yourself from whining when you feel him trace his cock through your folds, teasing, tracing up and down as the head of him nudges your clit, watching you, focused on the way your mouth must be parted and the likely sheen on your face.

And, you’re about to say his name—more in warning, in hunger. His body presses you down flush to the floor, the back of your hips meeting the fluff of the rug, as his mouth slides over your jaw, fingers dancing along your thigh, writing words, with the pads of them—leaving teasing verses against your skin.

“Stop teasing,” you say sharply.

Watching your words have their desired effect—that shy smile that grows into a confident smirk. The one you witness more than anyone else, the one you think of when you’re alone in the bed you share and it’s only his voice you have down the phone when your mind tries to pretend your fingers are his.

It’s slow, gentle, the way he begins to line up, pausing at your entrance—keeping you hanging, delicately placed there, held up by string as his breath paints what he wants to do to you against your neck. But you don’t hear it, can’t untangle the tale, least of all when he begins pressing in, sliding in inch by inch—

He’s big. And it makes you breathe deeply as you stretch around him. It makes you shiver. Makes you moan as he buries himself to the hilt, hips flush with yours.

“So good for me,” he praises before his lips slope over yours.

His hips begin to move, and each drag of his cock in and out makes you moan. The sound of you swallowing him, taking every inch of him he’ll give, is the soundtrack; the backdrop being the halo of lights above the two of you. It lights him, kisses along the varying shades that make up his curls, the browns, the beginning greys.

And you’re soaked, drenched—can feel it around where the two of you are joined, each slow drag in and out making it more apparent as you capture his lips. Breathlessly doing so, looping fingers around his neck, tugging lightly on his hair, curling into him, needing him deeper as your legs wrap around him.

It’s then the tip of him hits that spot, all unhurried. A motion he seeks, centres in on as he thrusts again, abutting it, making your eyes close and your mouth stretch each syllable of his name out in a whine. It makes you forget how to speak, and which language to utter. Barely a word for each finger can even come to mind, it’s mostly just his name. Frankie. Frankie. Please, Frankie as the air crackles around you.

He answers—he always does. His hand slides between your sweaty bodies, and finds the bundle of nerves calling out to him, the place which yearns. Doing so with accuracy, and exactness, as he draws shapes, lines and the fucking alphabet until you’re seeing stars, until it’s so hot you swear the jumper will peel from your skin and your head is nothing but a dizzying mess of him, just him. It makes you frantic to see him, outline his face, all cast in shadows because he’s turned away from the lights which made him look ethereal only moments ago.

His cock throbs inside of you, everything else curling inside your stomach, walls twitching around him as you tighten, vice-like, making him hiss. A sound which makes molten spread through you, more so when his mouth slides to your ear, breath laboured, along your skin, begging for you to come, needing you to, please, baby, please.

“S’close, Frankie.”

“I know—doing so well, so perfect for me.”

The words unlock something as a new pace is set, it more unforgiving, one that’ll likely leave marks on his knees from the friction on the rug, as you writhe and cling, half-moons left on his neck, digging in, marking him in the same way he’ll mark your walls in a moment or two.

Then, it floods over you. Drowns you. Coats you from head to toe as though you’ve been plunged in pleasure, left gasping, breath struggling to be located. Your mouth latched to his, burning your thanks into his mouth, your entire body tingling as he fucks you through it, until he’s thrusting aimlessly, so damn close until your name leaves the back of his throat in a sob, a blend of pleasure and relief strewn across his face as he comes deep inside of you. Hips slowing to a stammer, lowering himself down till he’s flush with you, before they come to a stop.

Then, it’s just his pants that meet your strained breaths, until a little hiss as he pulls himself out of you. Leaving you empty, sore in a way you’re grateful for, as his fingers trace over your chin, along your jaw, words being thought in slow bubbles as he stares at you.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Narrowing your eyes, you slide a hand to his hip, pinching.

“Just love that puttin’ lights up made you wanna suck my cock, is all.”

Smiling, you run your knuckles along his cheek, and brush past the wiry hair that makes up his patchy beard. “Wait till you see me hand the baubles, bet you’ll wanna be on your knees for me.”

“Good,” he replies. “I’m really hoping to taste how good we are together once we’re done.”

an: i freaking loved writing this, oh my.

i don't usually do taglists, but just tagging a few people who seemed interested in the longer version (sorry if this is annoying): @thetriumphantpanda @swiftispunk @5oh5 @morallyinept @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @reddedmiller @yorksgirl @missredherring @tvversionperson @secretelephanttattoo

[mezzy-1]

VALORANT MEETING + DATE HEADCANONS

Hope you enjoy!

SOVA 

He was finishing recon in a snowy forest late at night and was done for the day.  He outstretched his arm and sent out the Owl Drone

So far, you had been hiking for about 8 hours through frigid woods and gotten lost about 2 hours earlier.  You were trying to make camp for the night but failing to start a fire

You caught a glimpse of Sova’s drone and followed it back to the man, who immediately regarded you with some suspicion but could see you were of his dimension 

Deciding to keep an eye on you, he led you back to his campsite and helped you set up your tent next to his

He was kind, and he quietly offered you a seat next to him by the fire.  Both of you sat awkwardly at first, not quite sure how to handle the silence

“Do you do archery out here?  I noticed the bow and wanted to ask…” you trailed off as he looked at you 

He removed the bow and two arrows from his sling.  “Would you like a look at them?”  You moved closer and inspected them.  The technology was intricate but your eyes wandered over to the man sitting close to you

“What brings you out here?”

“I wanted to do the Blue Lakes trail but I got lost a while back.  I was planning on stargazing at the top but…” you gestured to your compass, “I got lost”

“I leave here tomorrow, and I can show you to the trail if you would like.”  Sova offered

You accepted his offer and both of you went to your tents for the night

Humiliatingly, the trail back was marked but Sova didn’t seem to care that you got lost so easily.  The two of you just chatted about the surroundings while traveling onward

At the trailhead, you had to part ways.  But it didn’t have to be the end, and you made a fast decision and asked to see him again

“I’d love to!  What did you have in mind?”

Sova Date

At the trailhead, you finished tying your boots before a familiar voice called out

“Hello y/n!  Should we start walking?”  Sova had dressed in pants and a blue flannel jacket

Both of you continued up to a clearing in the forest, just as the sun was begging to set

You laid out a large blanket from your pack and set it down.  Sova took out a pair of bags and bottles of water

You hadn’t expected him to bring home cooked food, but you weren’t complaining either

Sova and you made yourselves comfortable, and ate while you waited for the evening to turn to night

Conversing with him was always peaceful.  He listened deeply and always responded with optimism or curiosity

The North Star was the first to appear, followed by a few faint constellations

Within an hour, the sky was overrun with stars.  Each point of light layered on another creating a portrait of the galaxy

Sova and you took turns pointing out constellations, each time trying to remember what each star was named 

Both of you relied on the book of astronomy you brought along to figure out what was in the sky

Sova had an understanding of stars to navigate, and would name stars in Russian or translate what he could

Although you and him were occupied with stargazing, you started to succumb to the cold of the night

“Y/N, are you cold?”

“No, it’s nothing you need to-”

Sova took his jacket off and place it on you.  The lining inside was warm from Sova’s body heat

“Are you still cold?  Come here, and stay close to me.”  Sova gestured for you to join his side

For the rest of the night, you and him stayed in almost constant contact until you both decided to head back

You followed behind Sova, his sense of direction and torch lit the way.  Despite being deep in the wilderness, you felt safe in his presence

When you arrived at the trailhead, Sova said his goodbyes.  He made sure you would arrive home safely before leaving.  His jacket was still on you

“Sova, you forgot this.” you held his jacket out to him.  

“Keep it Y/N, I want you to have it for the next outing.  I hope it brings you much warmth and comfort while I am away.”

“Here’s something to remind you of me.” you gave Sova a kiss

He was a blushing mess, and held you close before departing back to the Valorant HQ

While you traveled back to your home, you ran your fingers over the soft material of Sova’s jacket.  It smelled faintly of him

DEADLOCK

You were in LA when the Landfall facility erupted and you were caught in the crossfire of Omega and Alpha variants.  A single Shock Arrow went off course and hit you with enough voltage to knock you out

Once you came to, Deadlock had finished performing CPR on you, including mouth to mouth. 

When you came to, your face was covered in blonde locks of hair, gazing into eyes with intense blue irises, and her body pressed against yours

Iselin was red in the face, and so were you.  Perhaps for the same reason…

Other agents were finishing off the Omega team, Iselin didn’t really have anything else to worry about other than stabilizing you

“Can you tell me your name?” she asked, hoping to establish if you were coherent

You replied perfectly, and set her at ease.  Then you had an idea, and asked for her name

“Deadlo- Iselin, my name is Iselin” she responded

Because you managed to get at least a name, you pressed your luck and asked more about her

“That will have to wait, we’re taking you a hospital to make sure you weren’t injured in any other way”

Sage gave you a check up and confirmed you were fine, then hooked up a heart monitor before leaving to inspect other agents

Iselin walked over to see how you were doing, then sat next to your cot.  It was another chance to get to see her and you tried to converse politely with her

As you chatted she kept looking over your shoulder to something, all while still remaining invested in your conversation

“Do I make you nervous?” She asked softly

“What!  No!  Why would you think that?” you quickly answered back

“It’s just that the monitor says you have an elevated heart rate.”

Looking behind you, the screen did show you that weren’t as relaxed 

“Oh!” you exclaimed, “It’s just that, I find you kind of… attractive”

The machine was beeping rapidly now, but not detracting from the silence that swallowed the moment between you and Iselin.  She spoke first

“Would you like to spend some time together then?”  she was blushing as much as you 

As you walked out of the clinic, you made plans to see her again

Deadlock Date

You and Iselin decided to meet at a Valorant safehouse that Cypher had once used.  He promised he removed all the cameras

She had prepared some ingredients for dinner you could cook together.  Cooking was something she did with her old team

Because you were in LA still, she managed to find fresh salmon at a market and decided to cook it

She gutted it in front of you, and taught you how to debone, clean and prepare the fish.  Her skill with the knife was amazing, if not intimidating

You asked a for some help and she took your hand, showing you the right way to cut

The rest of the preparation was easier, requiring less input.  It was during this that you talked to Iselin 

For her, it was refreshing to find someone who didn’t know about her past, the trauma she’d endured, and could let in gradually

You came to understand that she was ex-military but nothing official.  Her main expertise was in tracking and scouting, which you decided to test

You’d ask about urban legends or survival stories and she’d debunk them or let in on a fact about hunting

The incredulous reactions you had managed to coax a smile out of her

As dinner began, you both started sharing more personal stories and began to get more well-acquainted with the other’s background

Iselin bristled when you asked why she was with Valorant, and she decided to say as much as she could stomach

“I had something happen to me and they were there for me.”  Her eyes darted to her prosthetic arm

There was a moment of silence, tension rose 

“I’m glad they were there for you, if they weren’t I don’t think I would have met you.” 

The words touched Iselin deeply, and she could only utter out a phrase

“Tusen takk.” she smiled up at you 

As you finished your dinner you both had easier conversations about personal tastes.  It was here you found that Iselin enjoyed hiking 

“Would you like to go hiking with me?” you asked tentatively

Iselin’s face lit up and she quickly responded with “Ja takk!”

Sadly she had to leave soon and you both exited the safehouse.  Iselin turned to you as you closed the door 

“Y/N, thank you.  It hasn’t been easy to let people get close but you’ve helped me relax a bit.  I won’t forget you y/n.” 

You got the sense Iselin was signaling something, and you leaned in.  She kissed you and held you close, then cautiously let go

She left you the same way she found you: breathless

ISO 

Your day at work had come to an end, and you stepped off of your bus preparing to walk the rest of the way home

Iso’s had already began, as he was chasing down a member of his past corporation.  He had finished off their friends, now it was time to end them

His target had managed to jump out of the window to avoid capture, but Iso didn’t let up even as their chase took them onto the street

A small commotion occurred as Iso’s prey shoved you to put distance between his assassin 

As they ran past you, one of Iso’s headphones fell out 

Right in front of you as he ran into an alley from your sight

What else were you to do?  Of course you had to return it to him (not because you wanted to get a better look at him)

You began to head towards the alley to see if you could catch Iso in time.  Meanwhile Iso put his abilities into practice

Iso’s target fell right into the Kill Contract, and the assassin stepped into the space disappearing into the Interverse

Of course you didn’t see anything, just a few strange purple particles floating through the air nearby

By the time he stepped out of his Kill Contract he ran right into you and you both fell over

Iso was bewildered and worried a civilian had discovered his secret  

He and you caught a glimpse of each other and stopped struggling

Sheepishly, you handed him back his headphone and he took it back while being careful to hide the pistol he had in his coat

After helping you to your feet, you asked him what he was listening to and his reply of 99 God was a welcome surprise

“Wait, do you like his music too?” you asked

“Of course, I’ve been to some of his shows too.  I have playlists full of him.” 

You just happened to have 2 tickets to a concert of his, and seizing on the opportunity you asked if he would be interested

It was a yes

Iso Date

At the concert, you met Iso at the front before walking in together.  The ticket staff asked if you were a couple while scanning your passes

Iso blushed immediately and you felt your soul vacate your body

“Ye- maybe?”  “Well it wouldn’t be that, b-” “Uh I think so?”

You both hurried in to the concert and got over the shock

“That was kind of awkward right?  Who even asks that kind of question?”  Iso broke the tension

“I don’t understand people sometimes.” you replied

Eventually that faded into background as the music started, it was a something else to focus on

You and Iso joined the crowd in excitement, dancing and singing to the music that leapt from the speakers

The opening set was absolutely worth the ticket cost

“THIS IS AMAZING!” you cried out.  Iso agreed emphatically

Lost in the moment, you watched Iso feeling the rhythm as purple lights from a nearby projector shown on the crowd

You gazed at him in awe as violet lasers ran over both of your faces, he stared back with equal entrancement

Deciding to embrace the moment, you both stole a quick kiss when smoke machines shrouded the crowd and the show ended

On your way out, Iso and you both talked about your favorite songs, the performance, and the special effects

“This was a great night y/n, we should do something like this again.”

Barely holding back your excitement, you kissed him again before heading home

Iso walked back home listening to a track titled “Songs for Y/N”  

Being a hitman was a lonely job, and even since he had joined Valorant he still lacked closeness.  Luckily, he had found you

GEKKO 

Thrash had gotten away from him while he was out running a few errands, and he was worrying at this point

He heard the sound of the creature knocking over cans and moving around the isles.  He dashed over to see her pouncing from a shelf into a cart

Your cart

She didn’t revert to a globule, but instead curled up into the cart along with your groceries.  Gekko was beyond panicked at this point

You cautiously reached down and tapped on the critter, and when it nuzzled your hand you started to pet it

Gekko was astounded by Thrash getting along with someone, and stood there in awe as you picked her up and continued to scratch her belly

You noticed him staring at you with his jaw hanging open

“Uh, is this yours?” you asked while handing Thrash over to him.  She flew into Gekko’s satchel excitedly

“Uh, yeah, thanks for catching her.  I never see her get along with other people so it’s kind of weird to see her like this.  The rest of my crew is a lot more chill.” 

“The rest of your crew?” you asked.  Gekko realized he said too much at that point

“Well I’m not supposed to talk about it but…a no la importa ahorita.”  he summoned Wingman and placed him in your hands

You saw your chance and took it

“I’d love to get to them and you too if you wanted to do something some time.”

Gekko went red, then smiled 

“Meet me tomorrow evening at the Kingdom train depot, past the security fence.”

It was a date, one you were eager for but slightly worried about

Gekko Date

Following Gekko’s instructions was easy enough, getting into the trainyard was easy but the fear of being caught was palpable

It was kind of a rush though, sneaking by all of the cameras and guards.  You knelt down behind some crates and let out a sigh

A finger tapped on your shoulder and you twisted around in fear

“Oye, calma!” Gekko whispered.  “It’s me, you can chill.”  He smiled at you and gestured to a bag you carried

It was filled with spray paints of different colors rattled around inside.  Gekko walked you over to a train car he had already covered in stencils

He grabbed 2 cans gleefully and shook them together.  He tossed the other to you and grinned.  “Lista?  Let’s do this.”

You both got to work, assisted by Wingman to keep watch and hand paint cans.  Deep blues and electric greens covered the car at first, followed by pastel violets.  

Cans of paint traded hands, fingers brushing near but never touching.  Until Gekko looked up at the top stencil and had an idea

He hoisted you up on his shoulders and had you paint it.  Wobbling back and forth, you sprayed the last parts of the design before he cautiously let you down

“Ok, I want you to close your eyes alright?” Gekko pleaded. “Wait up, okay 3. 2. 1”

Your eyes opened and saw the beauty you and him created together

It was a scene of a jungle at night, navy blue foliage covering up most of it while neon green fireflies dotted the mural.  In the middle was a prowling jaguar with a cub between its front legs

“It’s beautiful…” you whispered

“you are too” whispered Gekko.  Wingman abruptly pushed you both together and you met each other’s gaze

Both of you kissed each other quickly before blushing and quickly breaking down into embarrassed apologies

“You, I.  We should, do this more right?”

“Yeah, por supuesto”

Wingman lived up to his name that night

CHAMBER 

You’d met at after a charity dinner hosted by Kingdom, and it was the most boring thing you’d ever attended

It was a show of corporate goodwill but mainly to placate the public.  The only reason you showed up is because the donations went straight to your city

Plus free wine, which you had taken and were drinking on a balcony that gave you some space from everyone else

“Fait froid non?”

You turned to see a tall man dressed in a fine suit and prismatic tie, his hand extended in greeting

“Vincent Fabron, enchante”

He took your hand, refraining from kissing it and instead shooting you a flirtatious grin

He made small talk with you about the event, and brought up that he had been with Kingdom as a guest.  Both of you started talking about each other's lives

Fabron asked if you had a partner

You blushed a bit and replied “no,” to which he responded “Tres bien, then would you be free for dinner sometime this week?”

You were taken aback by how forward he was, but then again he was a gentleman and quite handsome

A digital chime broke the silence and Fabron checked his wristwatch.  An alert was going off, accompanied by some V-shaped sign

“I look forward to meeting you once more,” he gestured to his watch, “but I am afraid I have some responsibilities to tend to.  Au revoir”

He waved at you as he went back inside and disappeared

In your hands was the card, which had the address of a high end restaurant and a time written on it.  The other side was the business card of Vincent ‘Chamber’ Fabron

Chamber Date

Dressed in your finest clothing, you waited outside of the restaurant building but were unsure where Chamber was

You pulled out the card to see if you had made a mistake and noticed a colorful glow coming from it

In a flash of radiant energy you were teleported, right into a private room with Vincent waiting

“Bonne nuit, I hope the teleportation was comfortable.  Let me get your seat.”  

Vincent had finished lighting candles, setting plates, and took your coat before seating you across from him

You sat down to a prepared dinner of salad, coq au vin, and fresh bread

Vincent pressed something on his watch, then teleported a bottle of red wine to his hand and opened it.  He poured your glass and sat down as he poured his own 

He began asking more about your life, interests, and even a few intimate questions

You naturally responded with your own questions, learning about his time at Kingdom and even a little about his time with Valorant

He asked about your life some more, not forgetting any of the details you told him the first time you met

By the time you both had finished the wine, it felt as if you knew the other as lifelong partners.  Vincent was listening to you explain something, but you became nervous

“Am I boring you?  I didn’t mean to-”

“I assure you, nothing you do could ever be boring.  There’s nobody more invested in you than me, Y/N.”

You were taken aback, and felt a spark of something.  On an impulse you leaned in 

Chambers' lips met yours and both of you kissed, he had found a private room so the moment you both shared was only yours to know

When you finished, Vincent sat back confidently with a somewhat knowing, if not smug, look on his face

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that all night” 

FADE 

Istanbul is a lively city, so the few places that offered a bit of peace were an oasis.  One such oasis was a bookstore in Kadikoy

You had paged through books but hadn’t really found anything that piqued your interest yet.  The saturation of supernatural romances and dystopian teen novels wasn’t helping

A woman with dark hair was also reading through another book, but unlike you was invested.  She sat at a table with a glass of warm tea

Her hands obscured the title, but you wanted to know if it was worth reading

Not like you had other reasons

“Uhh hi, what are you reading?”

You came face to face with mismatched eyes and a curious stare

“Dune,” she moved her hand to let you see the cover, “I’ve had it recommended to me by friends.  It’s quite good.”

You instinctively replied, “I know right, especially when Paul-” you cut yourself off before spoiling the book

Fade wasn’t normally in a mood to talk with strangers, but something about you was different to her

Normally she could feel fear emanate from people near her, however she didn’t get any sense you held fear

Of course this intrigued her

“Do you come to this store often?  I come here often but I haven’t seen you here before.”

You told her you were visiting for the first time but often went to another store that closed

“So you read often, what genre is your favorite?” she had set down her book

“I prefer science fiction, but I’ll read anything with good characters.” you replied. “What do you prefer?”

“The same, although I’ll read anything when I have the chance.” she took a sip from her glass

Just as she finished, one of Istanbul’s many cats entered the store.  A calico covered in large orange spots and one giant black spot across its back

It came up to you and began rubbing against your legs.  Then it came over to Fade and did the same

“She seems to like you,” you mentioned before Fade took the calico and fed it something from her bag.  She held it in her lap as it chewed on whatever it was eating

“Come, she is friendly.”  Fade invited you next to her.  Obliging, you sat down and started petting the cat

“What is your name?”

“Hazal”

“And you are?”

“Y/N,” you took your chance, “Would you want to get khave some time and talk a bit more?”

“Evet, that sounds lovely”

Fade Date

The neighborhood of Moda provided the perfect place to reacquaint yourself with Hazal

Naturally as you were on your way over, Hazal found you first.  The woman is a bounty hunter after all

“Merhaba!” Hazal surprised you and led you into a small cafe.  There were only a few other customers, leaving you and her mostly alone

She ordered khave, and you ordered the same.  The Turkish coffee brought to you was the first you ever had

It was like drinking coffee grounds and pure caffeine in a cup.  It was an acquired taste but very easy to acquire

Hazal and you talked about books you had read recently.  You compared some of the adaptations you both saw in theaters, agreeing mostly that the books were better

The conversation moved to life, and you asked about what Hazal did.  She mentioned that she did ‘private investigation’ but now works with a private security organization

It was a secretive topic, but you were fine with her answer.  It was more important to focus on the future

“Y/N, have you ever had your fortune read?” Hazal asked

“Not really, do you know how to tell the future?” you replied, you were curious at this point

Hazal pointed to your empty cup

You passed it over to her and she looked it over.  She searched it over and then set it in the middle of the table

“I see in your future…a deep unrest and sudden death.”  She turned up to you with a dire look in her eyes

“I’m going to die?” you asked.  Hazal’s facade broke and she laughed a bit

“Hayir, relax, it is only a joke.  In fact you’ll like the reading better now.”

You calmed a bit, and laughed a bit at how she managed to mess with you

“It seems like you’re going to go through some change, brought on by things beyond your control.”  she paused to look over the coffee cup, “But something will bring you great solace during this.”

“I wish I knew what that something was.  Do you see anything else about it?” you asked  

“Well I have one theory,” Hazal pointed to herself, “It could be someone, not something.”

You decided to flirt a bit more, “And who could that be?” 

“Someone close, someone mysterious maybe?  They could even be right here.”

“I’d bet they’d even go for a kiss if given the chance,” you caught Hazal leaning in as you said it

You shared a kiss with her, the first of many 

VIPER

She rarely ventured outside of her lab and between running Valorant and missions, she had to keep her time off brief and tended to try keep a low profile

Her time outside of the HQ was generally spent visiting parts of the world and visiting art museums

Viper had a particular love of the arts, and museums were often silent so there was little interference from other people 

Except for you

She was observing Goya’s Black Paintings, specifically Saturn Devouring His Son.  It’s savagery was overwhelming and therefore intrigued her

You sat down on a bench to observe it as well, and maybe the other person in here with you.  The grotesque painting was enthralling, if not disturbing to think about

Then she sat down next to you, and you tried to keep your eyes on the painting.  It was impossible not to dart your eyes over to her

“Why do you keep looking at me?” Viper spoke in a bitter tone

Thinking as fast as you could you explained that you weren’t looking at her per say, rather just the…painting behind her.  You were looking over at Duelo a Garrotazos

She raised an eyebrow and sighed, “That’s an awful lie.”

To prove your innocence you went into detail about what you knew about the painting:  History, interpretation, value, and origin.  

Sabine’s suspicion turned to interest

“You know art quite well, is it a passion of yours or a profession?”

“Just a passion, and I wasn’t trying to stare at you.”

“I’m not as concerned with that anymore, what I am curious about is what brings you here.”

“Just wanted to look at the collection.  By the way, I never got your name.”

“Sabine, and yours is?”

“Y/N”

“Have you ever painted before Y/N?  Or are you mostly a critic?”  Sabine’s intense green eyes studied your reaction

“Only a little bit, but I enjoy it when I have the chance.”

“Would you be interested in joining me at a studio sometime this week?  I rented a space.”

Caught off guard, you quickly asked if she was trying to ask you out.  She was less interrogative now, and being genuine in her offer

“I would love to.” you answered. 

An alert from Sabine’s phone broke the moment.  Her face contorted into exasperation, and she quickly texted something back.

“It appears I have something to attend to Y/N.  We should discuss this later.”

Sabine handed you a page from a pocket book with her number, and after she took one last look at the gallery, left the museum

As she left, you heard her mutter something about her lab and ‘Phoenix,’ whatever that meant

Her leaving was a bit abrupt, but you would be seeing her again and you could hardly wait

Viper Date

Viper didn’t tell anyone about your date except for Brimstone

In her space she had assembled what she could for a still life: a few beakers and a collection of poisonous flowers like Oleandar, Belladonna, and Hemlock

Her arrangement was of flowers sticking out of scientific glasses.  It wasn’t the most ornate but it did offer plenty to paint

Knocking several times, you waited outside for Sabine to let you in.  She greeted you with a softer tone than at the museum

You began assembling your palette with Sabine.  You went for realistic colors, she went for darker variants

Each of you took a couple of brushes, dipped them in a glob of paint, and began your still-lifes

As you painted, you started discussing what each of you did for work, then chatted about art and world events

Both of you blamed Kingdom for much of the world’s current issues, and Sabine shared stories from when she worked for them 

Some of them were definitely a little worrying, considering she had not only slightly poisoned coworkers but avoided being fired in doing so

Her understanding of chemistry was incredible to listen too, she had a clear passion for it

“Why do you like working with poison so much?”

“I’m good at it, there’s not much more to it,” she paused, assessing her answer, 

“But I guess I enjoy what they mean to us.  We fear them because we don’t understand them, but once we do they control life and death.  I like that, the power they give to those willing to take it.”

“So you think of what you do as a way to help people, but using something that people don’t trust.”

“I suppose so.”

“Do you ever feel alone then?”  Sabine paused mid brushstroke, “It must be difficult having interests people are afraid of.”

“It can be Y/N, but I’ve found it isn’t as bad anymore.  Poisons have their place in my life, people are earning theirs.”  She went back to her palette

You added in more pastels to make the flowers stand out against the background

Once you were done, you shared the results with one another.  Yours was more bright, and had heavier detail.  Sabine’s was more abstract, focusing on brush strokes and tone

At the end, you both exchanged the paintings as a parting gift

Sabine cautiously asked if you would like to have dinner some time.  She picked at one of her nails waiting for a response

“Of course!” you replied.  Then leaned in and gave a Sabine a quick peck on the cheek

She could hardly get a word out

You and her left the studio planning on dinner and more art nights in the future.  You had settled on portraits next

Sabine later thought about asking you pose nude for a portrait but dismissed the thought

CYPHER

Normally, you tried to stay away from explosions, gunfire, and energy blasts.  While slipping away you were caught in a leftover trip wire you didn’t see

The wire had tangled your legs, and forced you on the ground 

You were frantically struggling against the wires when you heard footsteps 

“Well, well, it appears a fly has gotten caught in my web.  Let’s see who it is.” a voice coldly whispered 

A man in a white coat and hat stepped from behind the corner with a gun drawn.  His eyes were hidden by a dark mask, mechanical blue eyes took their place.  Unfeeling

At least until he saw you.  Despite the mask you saw the shock take hold immediately

“Oh, apologies,” he reached his hand out and retrieved the wire, “I wasn’t expecting others to get caught”

The initial fear you had turned to confusion

“Who are you?” you asked

“I prefer people I don’t know to call me Cypher.  Allow me to lead you out of here.”

His offer seemed genuine and you didn’t have any other choice but to follow him into a hidden room where he sat you down

“I didn’t mean to catch you, I hope it was not uncomfortable.”  he sounded regretful, and seemed to truly care about you

“Here,” he handed you your phone, “you dropped this while you were struggling.”

As you checked your phone over, you noticed the screen was glitching out.  It was randomly receiving and exporting data

Your savior/captor was entering something into a desktop set up in the room.  He was typing up something while you scrutinized your phone

Cypher turned back to you, and you caught a glance of a computer screen.  It read: SECURED DATA

“So, Y/N.  What brought you out here?  I know you aren’t a threat, but I’m still going to make sure you don’t reveal anything to someone else.”

“How did you know my name?” Cypher pointed at your glitching phone.  “You hacked my phone?”

“No, I bugged it.  Check the back, I planted it there when I handed it to you.  I wanted to make sure you weren’t spying.”

A small silver disc clung to the back of your phone.  You struggled to pull it off, so Cypher offered to help

“You don’t need to worry about me holding onto any of your secrets, I cleared the data once I was done.”

“Do you always hack people's phones when you meet them?”

“Yes.”  Cypher’s answer was completely serious, not a hint of sarcasm

You asked more questions, getting a better idea of who this mysterious man was.  It was difficult to get clear answers

“Y/N, I trade secrets for a living.  Give me something and I’ll give you something.”

You thought intensely, then it hit you

“I’ll tell you anything about me you want, but on one condition.”

Cypher’s interest piqued.  He leaned in to meet your gaze

“If you take me somewhere that means something to you, you can interrogate me as much as you want.”

His mask stretched in brief surprise, then slyly relaxed as he sat back in his seat.  He clasped his hands together

“You surprised me with that Y/N.  It’s hard to surprise me, so I’ll take you up on your little interrogation.”

Cypher Date

Cypher’s coordinates and description were slightly difficult to follow, but regardless you managed to get there on time

You asked for the second floor room in the tea shop, and were led up some stairs into a room with cushions, drawn shades, and hanging lamps

The entire room was bathed in dim colorful light and smelled faintly of mint

Next to the table was Cypher, his mask undone but eyes covered with glasses

“Ah, Y/N!  Have a seat, the tea was just brought up.” he gestured to a silver tea pot

You placed yourself across from him and watched as he poured a cup of tea, taking care to stretch his arm upwards to let the tea cool as it fell

He passed the cup to you and motioned for you to drink.  You took a small sip from the steaming broth

It was the best thing you had ever tasted.  It was sweet like honey but had a distinct taste of mint.  Moroccan tea was your new favorite drink to say the least

Cypher enjoyed it with you

“So, even though I may have researched you for security I sadly didn’t get to know you that well.  Tell me more about you.”

You told him about what you did for work, and the places you had traveled to.  Cypher probably knew about it but was still invested

He had his fair share of stories too.  A life of information brokering and spying left him with some incredible tales

His ability to make you hang on every word was unlike anything you had heard before.  The man was a natural storyteller, and invested you quickly

By the time you and Cypher had finished most of the tea, it was getting late and you were beginning to learn more about Cypher’s personal life

“Can I trust you with something Y/N?” Cypher removed his glasses to look at you clearly.  His eyes were a deep shade of mahogany

“Sure, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.”

“My name, my real name, is Amir.  People who are close to me know it, I believe you should know who I am too.”

“Amir,” you said while getting closer, “that’s a beautiful name.  I’m glad you trust me with it.”  

Amir and you said your goodbyes outside of the tea shop, using his alias of course

“Cypher, before you leave again I wanted to thank you for saving me.”

“It was no-”

You kissed him while you had the chance.  You did want to thank him after all

Amir was more than receptive to it, and you eventually had to break it off.  Glasses hid his eyes, but not his excitement

You had captured him this time

YORU

You heard the sound of something falling over and metallic components spilling everywhere

Readying a baseball bat, you flung the door open and prepared to swing 

Instead of a thief or even an animal, you were face to face with an oni.  Spectral blue energy spilled from the out from the portal it was clawing its way out of

Its bright blue eyes glowed with power, and it stepped through the portal towards you 

In your panic you swung and hit him in the ribs

“KUSO!  THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM!”

On closer inspection, the ‘oni’ from before was a man in a bike jacket and wearing a mask.  It didn’t change the fact he was in your garage

“Who are you and why are you in my garage?”  You readied another swing

“Yoru, and I just teleported here because I was making an escape.  I didn’t think anyone was home.”

After a few seconds, Yoru tried to get back up but stumbled.  A red stain on his shirt gave away why

“Did you get shot?”

“What of it?  You hit me with a bat so I don’t get why you give a shit.”

You realized that not only was Yoru wounded, he was also unarmed too.  He had nothing aside from the mask he wore

“Stay here, I’m gonna get you some bandages and gauze.”

“I don’t need that.  I’ll manage without you, plus I don’t think you know what you’re doing.  No offense but I’m not gonna take help from-”

Yoru winced as you applied rubbing alcohol to the wound.  He inhaled sharply as you cleaned the bullet hole and applied aid

Once you had patched him up, he sat in the garage across from you

“So what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Do you always beat your patients before helping them out?  Or are you that bad at first aid?”

“You wear that mask because you got a messed up face?” you weren’t about to take insults from Yoru after you saved him

He removed the mask, and to your shock he was quite good looking.  He continued to scowl at you between sarcastic comments

He noticed the motorcycle in the garage, and gestured to it

“Oi Y/N.  That yours?”

“Yes, why are you asking?”

“I ride too,” Yoru adjusted his bandage before standing up, “looks like yours has got a bit damage.”

It was true, the motorcycle needed repairs and it was a chore to look up videos and learn to fix it.  It was good to learn, but time consuming

“I could look it over,” Yoru smirked at you, “but I’m not feeling so grateful right now.”

“Then you can come back later as thanks for me patching that hole in your stomach.  Sound good?”

Yoru was surprised at the offer, and despite his outward personality did retain a sense of politeness from his time as a yakuza

“I could come by again.   If I teleport in, you better not lose your mind again and hit me.  That pissed me off last time.”

“I’ll get it out if you forget to come by.”

“You’ve got a deal, Y/N.”

Yoru Date

Yoru teleported into the garage later than when he said he would.  A blue flash alerted you to his arrival

He went over to your toolbox, taking wrenches out and checking the sizes of bolts.  He also removed his jacket, placing it nearby

“Start it up, I wanna hear the engine.”  Yoru tossed you the keys.  The sputtering of the engine was not a great sign

“It’s the carburetor,” Yoru was absolutely certain in his voice

You and him got to work taking apart the bike and getting into the engine.  It was an older model of motorcycle, but Yoru seemed to know exactly what to take apart

Both of you finally got to the engine, and removed part of the engine block to get to the carburetor

“We need to replace it.  Give me a second, don’t touch anything else.”  Yoru disappeared into a portal

In the minute he was gone, the engine began to ooze black fluid.  You rolled your sleeves up and started to remove the engine block to keep it from leaking more

Yoru stepped back, holding a replacement carburetor

“What are you doing?”  

“The engine is leaking oil, I took it out so nothing else gets oil on it.”  

He got down to look at engine you removed, his disapproval turning to satisfaction.  He picked up a wrench and handed it to you

“Take the rest of it apart, we’re fixing the whole block.  After that, we’re gonna do everything else.”

After a few hours, the bike engine, tires, and suspension were replaced with new versions.  Yoru even stole some paint and redid the color on the bike

He got on the bike and started it.  A smooth growl came from the new engine

“Hop on, Y/N.  You and I are gonna make sure nothing’s wrong with the bike.” you both grabbed helmets

You got behind Yoru and held yourself close to his back.  Your hands were firmly around his torso

He revved the engine and peeled out of the garage.  Yoru sped towards the highway and weaved between cars

Street lights and vehicles blurred around you as the motorcycle rushed past them all.  Yoru’s driving was precise, but he was pushing the engine to the limit any chance he got

Cold wind forced you to hold Yoru tighter for warmth.  Even through the jacket, he kept you from freezing

Yoru’s driving had attracted some police cars, to which Yoru decided to let chase him.  He began the chase by popping a wheelie and tearing ahead

The cruisers tried to keep pace with him, but couldn’t match his speed.  Yoru flipped them off as he escaped

Suddenly a blockade appeared on your horizon.  Yoru seemed to smile through his helmet.  “Keep holding on.” he commanded

He drifted the bike into the blockade as he activated his mask.  You and him rode the bike into the rift

Your escape led you right into the garage, where Yoru skidded to a halt.  He hopped off the bike and smirked at you

“So, how do you like my driving Y/N?”

“That was insane.  I loved it!”

“You’ll like this too then.”

Yoru grabbed you and kissed you.  It lasted for a second but the moment seemed longer than that

When the initial shock wore off, you turned to a slightly blushing Yoru

“We should go for a joyride more often.” you muttered with what little sense you had

[monocaelia]

redolence.

he can't help but be drawn to you again and again; you're intoxicating and he fears he has grown addicted. feat. wriothesley & gn!reader w.c : 1.4 k warnings : physically intimate scenario but nothing happens , a result of me being touch starved lol note : i'm back for a little (: this idea has been haunting me and i wanted a simple warm up.

the warmth of your quaint apartment is welcoming as wriothesley haggardly enters through your doorway, a sharp contrast from the cool night breeze that clings to the streets of the court of fontaine. the smell of dinner entices the duke further into your home, but his exhausted body yearns for something other than the food waiting for him on the dining room table.

his feet shuffle across the hardwood floors, not even bothering to switch any lanterns on as your home has been memorized from the countless number of times he has visited you.

you, his beloved.

just as your name echoes in his head, your head pops out from the hallway leading into your bedroom and your bright smile lights up the darkness in your abode, putting the moon and her gracious light to shame.

the humble apartment comes to life as the lanterns illuminate the living space and the patter of your feet against the floor is all wriothesley can hear before-

"wrio!" you call his name and the duke can already feel his muscles relax and the weight from keeping busy at meropide lift from his shoulders. as if by instinct, wriothesley opens his arms wide and he doesn't need a warning from you as he feels your body leap into his arms.

and despite his world now embracing him in his arms, the duke of the fortress of meropide feels the most at ease.

your feet land on the wooden floor of your home as your lover sets you back down, grounding you back to reality and yet your heart still feels like it's feather light as if you weighed nothing more than a speck of dust as you meet ashen eyes.

he looks exhausted from a long day's work; the silver eyes that you love so much drooping and the weary lines below his eyes a bit more prominent this evening. his usually tousled hair is messier than it usually is and your fingers reach up to fix it as much as you could.

the sea of midnight tufts streaked with silver, reminiscent of the galaxies you would see littering the clear night sky after the tears of the hydro dragon cleanse the land of fontaine, is soft to the touch and you wish you could play with it forever. your fingers linger down to his jaw, caressing the scars that have made their home along his face.

and you watch as the man who has seen what the world has to offer in the worst way possible melt into your touch as if it were the only safe haven he knows.

"i take it work was rough on you?" you ask your lover, a smile growing on your face as wriothesley sighs heavily.

"don't get me started," he begins, pressing a kiss into your palm. "i'd rather not talk about it and ruin my mood for tonight."

your lover stays true to his word as his hand trails down your arm; his larger hand encases your own and keeps yours glued to his face as your warmth encompass him. however, as wriothesley relishes in your simple touch, something about you intrigues him. it stimulates his senses, reeling the duke in closer to your skin. he can feel your body heat increasing as he buries his face into your palm before sliding to your wrist as the scent grows stronger.

it's sweet, a smoky, herbal aroma with a hint of fruit... was it sunsettias? or bulle fruit?

regardless of what it was, it's enticing to the duke and he found himself inching his face further and further into the warmth of your body. you find it ticklish the way wriothesley's nose skims up your arm from your wrist, inhaling every single inch of your skin to get more of the aroma into his system.

his touch is dizzying to you; the kiss to your palm already sending your chest ablaze and it only gets worse the more he kisses up your arm. each press of his lips against your skin sends waves of heat over your body but you find it hard to pull away from the intimate atmosphere.

"new perfume?" your boyfriend grumbles against your shoulder as he takes in more of the scent. what was it; the fruity smell is on the tip of his tongue and yet fatigue clouds his brain.

"n-no," you stammer out in a voice that wavers in strength. your free hand, the one not held in your lover's as his lips caress your skin again and again, grips onto the fabric of his shirt. his heat melds into yours as your bodies get closer in the small room of your apartment. "it's a new body oil i'm trying out from sumeru... does it smell weird?"

truly, wriothesley's actions are quite the opposite of that. if anything, this herbal scent clinging onto your body lures the supposed cold duke that oversees the fortress of meropide into your frame and turns him into complete putty underneath the mere graze of your finger.

if only the prisoners of meropide could see the duke now.

wriothesley feels your body shiver as he nears your neck with his touch. you're flustered, skin warming up and breath hitching, and as a result he pulls away from your body... only to be greeted by such a delightful sight; eyes wide open like a deer caught in the spotlight and your kissable lips parted in such a way that almost reels him in completely.

oh, what you do to him.

"far from weird, sweetheart," wriothesley murmurs softly, his voice a mere whisper, before he delves down again as temptation rules over his mind and his body yearns for your touch. his lips press into your own, the taste of his afternoon tea enveloping your senses; it's floral yet citrus hints make your head spin as his kisses caress your lips again and again.

wriothesley's arms have moved to hold your waist and pull you closer to him; the need to feel every inch of you on his own body is overwhelming the duke and he knows he won't be able to hold himself back for too long.

you're too intoxicating and the aroma that wafts from your body is only pulling him further and further in.

your lover pulls away from the kiss, but you've only a moment of respite before his lips press into your skin again. they trail from your jaw down to the crook of your neck. your body shivers as his warm breath fans across the expanse of your neck and yet you're far from cold.

it's ticklish the way wriothesley buries himself into your neck and you can't even pull away to compose yourself as his arms trap you within his arms; a prisoner in the fortress of his embrace.

"wrio, maybe we should call it a night?" your voice is barely a breath as you try to snap your lover out of his trance, not that you would mind where this would be headed to but... the moon was high in the sky and you know wriothesley would be even more exhausted the next morning should the both of you continue.

his nuzzles against your skin put to a halt due to your words and like an obedient lover, wriothesley pulls away with a tired smile. he leans down again but only to press light kisses against the apples of your cheek and forehead.

"sorry, darling," wriothesley whispers in the close space between you. his thumb has come up to gently rub across your cheek and his heart skips a beat seeing how frazzled you had become because of him. he kisses you again, but this time it's brief and light. "you're just too much for me sometimes."

"all i did was welcome you home." your deadpan manner makes your lover chuckle softly.

and yet as the two of you bicker late into the night, all the duke could think about was the solace that you bring when you're near him. the warmth in your smile, the comfort in your embrace, and the relief that you bring to him with just your scent alone is enough to bring his mind at ease after the taxing work hours at the fortress of meropide.

should the days toughen the duke even more than he already is, he knows you'll be there to soften and protect his heart with a simple touch.

his solace.

[autumna-potentia]

"You could call me a 'sexual alter', but I prefer the term 'intrusive thot'."

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒖𝒑𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 ✩࿐

pairing: scaramouche x gn!reader

content: fluff, fluff, and more fluff, scaramouche is referred to as kunikuzushi, established relationship, makeup

summary: after noticing that your boyfriend’s eye makeup is more or less flawless, you ask him to test his skills on you.

a/n: this is what happens when you let me brainrot with @ilyuu for too long hehe... the scara brainworm has worked its way into my head. this is a cry for help.

“Hold still,” Kunikuzushi mumbles under his breath as he leans in towards you. With steady hands, he brings an eyeshadow brush up to your face, carefully placing the end of it against one of your eyelids. You have to stop yourself from flinching as the sensation of the bristles touching your face sends shivers down your spine.

“You’re moving an awful lot,” he reprimands you. A frown spreads across your boyfriend’s features. “Don’t blame me if you end up looking like an absolute idiot.”

Upon hearing his words, you have to force yourself to stifle a giggle. Kunikuzushi has a rather sharp tongue, but at times, even his irritated guise isn’t enough to conceal his love for you. Every single one of his emotions is displayed on his face for you to see, appearing as clear as a cerulean sky on sunny summer days. An entire rainbow array of sentiments is painted across his features.

Your proximity to him makes it easy for you to discern each feeling — after all, you’re so close to him that you can practically count all his eyelashes — so instead of focusing on the feeling of Kuni doing your makeup, you try to focus on him.

Porcelain skin tinted a very subtle shade of bubblegum pink at his cheeks; eyes that are filled with oceans of allure, adoration, and enchantment, containing a glint that speaks of the most mystifying secrets of the universe; and messy strands of hair reminiscent of the night sky framing his face make your pulse race erratically. The feeling of his breath tickling your skin only adds to the elation that threatens to make your heart burst.

It’s undeniable that Kunikuzushi is pretty — no, absolutely breathtaking — from any distance. After all, you had spent what felt like eons admiring him from afar before you could muster the courage to talk to him. However, up close, he is ethereal. Every single one of his features entices you, causing an entire sea of affections to flood your heart, overrunning it with feelings of unadulterated bliss.

As you stare at him in a daze, your gaze gravitates towards his lips. Although it’s difficult for you to look down due to the eyeliner pencil he just picked up tickling the edges of your eyes, you still manage to see them in the margins of your vision. His lips look so soft and plush, coloured a coral hue in stark contrast to his snowy complexion. They look so tempting. You feel a strong urge to kiss them — an urge that only intensifies as he subconsciously chews on his bottom lip as he concentrates hard on perfecting your makeup.

Your actions go entirely unnoticed by your boyfriend, or at least, you think they go unnoticed. He’s too focused on doing your eyeliner, quietly muttering a string of swears under his breath as his hand shakes. It seems like he’s nervous for once. You assume it’s because this is probably the first time he’s doing makeup for someone other than himself.

No matter how indifferent he acts on the outside, Kunikuzushi cares about you enough to become a mess on the inside when he’s doing something for you. It’s endearing in a strange sense.

With one final stroke, Kuni pulls back in order to admire his work. A small smirk adorns his features as he fixes his gaze upon you. Even though your boyfriend has moved, your eyes are still glued to his lips.

“Not bad,” he says. The galaxies of indigo swirling within his irises seem to glow brighter the longer he stares at you. It’s obvious he’s undeniably enamoured. He adores every aspect of your being. Kunikuzushi loves you down to every last detail, and right now, he’s especially enchanted by your eyes.

Slowly, Kuni’s face inches toward your own. His stare remains fixated on the corners of your eyes, which are tinted with dusk red eyeshadow reminiscent of his own makeup.

Before you know it, his lips softly press against your face, just barely grazing one of the areas he had just finished applying makeup to. Although no words are exchanged, you know what he’s trying to say.

You look absolutely divine.

When he finishes, he moves in once again. However, this time, he goes for your lips. Kuni slowly closes the distance between the two of you, narrowing the gap that separates you from him until you can feel his warm breath fanning your skin. He stops right before you kiss to gently caresses your cheek.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring earlier,” Kuni whispers slightly breathlessly, although in the moment, that phrase sounds slightly hypocritical. His gaze is locked on your lips, almost as if he doesn’t dare to look away.

Little by little, the final inch of space between you diminishes, and you are met with the sensation of a pair of warm lips against your own.

The kiss is magical. It feels like something out of a fairytale. Butterflies run rampant in the pit of your stomach as you relish in the softness of his skin against yours, and for a second, you picture yourself in a dream. A dream where the rest of the world is forgotten, and all that exists is you and your lover.

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging/commenting if you enjoyed this!

[alienzil]

DP x DC Prompt/notion #3

So Danny is dating one of the bat kids, specifically one of the Robins (I'm picturing Tim but this could potentially work with any of the Robins).

They've been dating for a while and they know each other's secret identities (I'm imagining that the reveal was fairly recent and they're still getting used to it). The bat family doesn't know about Danny's secret identity yet, only that he's dating their brother. They all think he's a civilian.

Danny has worked with the Justice League before as the Ghost King (maybe as a regular member or maybe they just consult with him occasionally). Nobody has recognized that King Phantom and Danny Fenton are the same person.

When Danny became the Ghost King he got the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage. The two artifacts got their names after having belonged to Pariah Dark for centuries. The Crown on his head a dark black surrounded by flame and the Ring on his finger an angry skull set in darkness. Very few ghosts remembered that the symbols of the ghost kings power are a reflection on the true nature and innermost desires of the current ruler.

When Danny first put on the Ring and the Crown after becoming King (I'm imagining he avoided it for a while) , they transformed to match his true self, what was most important to him and central to who he was. The flames died out and the black metal of the crown froze over and turned to ice, the aurora borealis in a night sky reflecting in its surface. The ring shrunk down, the dark black background changing to a swirling galaxy and the skull replaced by Danny's personal symbol.

Every time Danny has been summoned by the Justice League its been in full Ghost King regalia with the Ring and the Crown in their new forms.

So Danny is summoned by the League to consult on a problem or maybe just for a regular meeting if they've been working together for a while. It's the first time he's been summoned since the identity reveal with his boyfriend.

Smoke clears from the summoning circle and Danny floats out smiling and greeting the heroes. Everyone stares at him. His crown is still made of ice but the northern lights have been replaced by a bright red, green and yellow. The shape and spikes of the crown are now in the shape of a bat symbol. The ring is similarly colored to the Crown and Danny's DP is now sharing space with the Robin R.

"Oh, shit," Tim whispers in shock.

"What?" says Danny not understanding why everyone is reacting like this. Then he sees the ring out of the corner of his eye and holds it up to see the new look. "Oh, shit."

Batman (and any other bat family members present) whipped around to focus on Tim as soon as he spoke.

"Is there something you'd like to tell us Red Robin?"

[crguang]

ocean eyes

You’ve never seen the ocean. Kafka introduces you to it.

fluffy as fawk, recycled the idea from that fic but it’d be like a prequel technically, 2.3k words

A/N: couldn’t stop thinking about kafka loving the sea she’s made for me atp. title only makes sense because of the other fic lol

The sea breeze washes over your being, it caresses each strand of hair and softly touches your skin like gentle hands cupping your cheeks. You feel it in your ears, a sound you’re hearing for the first time; its warmth seems to enter your lungs and clear it of past impurities with every inhale, and you wish to take a deep breath to keep it inside your chest forever.

The sensation leaves you immobile. In front of you, the ocean. A myth come true, its beauty rivaling Idrila’s. It’s vast, bigger than your mind can comprehend even after so many years spent traveling the cosmos, and a deeper blue than the sky it’s reflecting. Water has never been so alive, with waves crashing on the shore and currents on the horizon, you are facing an entity larger than life. Its depths create and harbor life that you won’t ever get to see. Your mortal eyes can only perceive a fraction of it, so small and significant. You didn’t think it was possible for water to kiss the sky, having the proof before you fills you with wonderment. Among it, some strange feeling nestles in your throat. You stand as it curls around your vocal cords and leaves you mute. Words are useless in front of something so grand, you realize, they fade away as if they've never existed at all. You lose yourself in cold blues and the occasional whites of flying seagulls, in salty air that quickly becomes your favorite scent, and you can’t speak for a long moment.

Lithe fingers, laced with your calloused ones, tighten their hold on your hand. It takes a couple blinks to tear your eyes away from the boundless sea, and you turn to Kafka’s fond smile. She’s watching you, drinking you in like you’re the precious sight and not the limitless expanse of water on the coast. A thumb swipes over the crease of your eye, lingering at the corner for a second too long, and you realize she’s wiping a tear away.

“Oh,” you exhale softly, bringing your free hand to your face. Your cheeks are wet with silent tears and you sniffle as you wipe them from your skin. “I didn’t even notice.”

“What were you thinking about so intently just now?”

You look back at the sea, an ache in your throat. The sun hides behind thin clouds and paints the world in soft colors.

“I was wondering if my planet was ever this pretty. I wish my mother could have seen it.”

Your home world fell victim to a Stellaron, like plenty throughout the galaxy. It dried most of your rivers and evaporated many of your lakes, transforming seas into lands full of sand. Water was a limited resource and a tedious thing to acquire. You remember stumbling on a picture book with various shades of blue filling some of the pages and asking your mother about it. That evening, she explained the ocean to you; never-ending, deeper than mortals can comprehend and filled with creatures your childish mind could merely compare to alien life. You thought she was making stuff up, maybe embellishing a mundane truth, but she spoke of the sea with the same tenderness she used to tuck you into bed. As you grew, you understood that it was longing in her words, a deep desire for something she would never experience in this lifetime. To you, it felt pointless to yearn for something she didn’t know; your mother was born long after the Stellaron infected your planet and spread its cancer to the roots of your world. You didn’t understand how this desire was born, where it came from. Yet, in her eyes resided a wistfulness that was only extinguished the day she died. She left the waking world longing for the sea, and memories of her constrict your chest as you stand at the edge of it.

Kafka hums, pivoting to face the water. A gentle silence settles between you as you watch the waves rise and fall on the shore. Her bare palm is warm against yours, it grounds you to the sand beneath your feet. Seagulls make a grating sound, you discover, but even their squawking can’t ruin the view before you. You feel a sudden restlessness to touch the water, to have it envelop you entirely until you feel yourself disappear in it as if absorbed.

“Can we go in the water?”

Kafka smiles. “Sure.”

Your hand slips from hers and you step out of your slides, sinking your toes into the hot sand of the beach. Sand is something you’re familiar with, it reminds you of your mom and your broken world. Comfort fills you with every step towards the waves. Kafka follows beside you, used to the sights and the sensations. She comes here every summer, but this is the first time she’s brought you along. You understand why she’d want a place like this all to herself, it brings forth a sense of serenity best enjoyed in solitude. Or, at least it did, before. Before experience brought you closer.

You hesitate somewhat once you reach the water. Your feet are submerged in it and suddenly its vastness becomes a little terrifying. Kafka walks in further until she’s standing waist deep in the water, circling hands creating ripples around her. She turns to face you with a silent question on her stretched lips.

“…I don’t know how to swim,” you confess uselessly, prompting a chuckle out of her. She knows that, obviously, since you’re unfamiliar with large bodies of water.

“We can stay on the shallow end. Don’t want you drowning on my watch, I’d get in a lot of trouble with the others.”

Kafka holds out her hand. You take it with some reticence. She brings you close enough for wet fingers to squeeze your waist affectionately. Her easy expression makes you at ease, she seems different on this planet, more carefree. She’s not wearing her contacts and her ponytail is lower than usual, its tie looser around her long locks of hair. You’re privy to a side of her you had no idea existed and you’re honored by the trust she puts in you.

“Nice, right?”

“It’s cold,” you reply, looking down at your wobbly reflections.

“Mm, I like it.”

You dip your hands beneath the water and turn your palms to the sky. Algae brushes against your calves as you move around. Kafka lets you explore, head tilting back to face the sun. You venture a bit further until your neck is the only thing sticking out of the water. Impulsively, you squeeze your eyes shut, pinch your nose with two fingers and sink into the water. Every sound is muffled in your ears, and in the darkness everything is pointless. This is different from a shower or being caught in the pouring rain, you feel light. weightless, insignificant. You wonder if that’s what your mother longed for, this freedom to be anything and anyone, drifting through the boundless sea. You emerge with a little gasp, rubbing the water out of your eyes before blinking them open.

You’re careful not to stray too far from where Kafka is drinking in the faint sunlight. Her eyes are closed when you glance back at her, chin tilted to the heavens. Her shoulders have turned a rosier color from the sun and her dark, backless bathing suit contrasts beautifully with the clear ocean blue. You walk towards her, flicking your wrist to send water flying her way. Her brows twist for a second before she looks at you with a small smile. Kafka always smiles a lot, more often than not to unsettle her opponent or prey, but there’s a softer edge to the ones she’s had since you arrived on this planet.

“What do you usually do here?” You ask, moving closer to her.

“Float. Wanna try?” Kafka holds onto your waist when you’re close enough to reach, pulling you towards her. “I can show you.”

“I don’t want to drown.”

“You’re not going to drown.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Kafka playfully rolls her eyes and takes hold of your chin with a few fingers. Her gaze follows the movement of her thumb across your jaw, then flicks up to meet yours.

“I wouldn’t let you,” she says, leaning in to press her lips on yours in a soft kiss. Your eyes flutter shut as her mouth slowly moves against yours. She pulls away after a moment and looks at you. “Do you trust me?”

“At times.”

“Well, trust me now.”

One of her hands is placed on the small of your back to support you, the other gently guides you onto your back by applying pressure on your chest.

“What if I float away,” you say, a tinge of panic enveloping you, and you grab her wrist to stay upright.

Kafka can’t help the amusement on her face. “To where?”

“Far, I don’t know.”

“Would you miss me?”

You pout. “It’s a valid fear to have.”

“It’s really not.”

“What if I float to the deep end, then it’s too late to come back and I drown because I can’t swim?”

Kafka looks at you for a moment, eyelids lowering and an amused smile on her lips. She doesn’t say anything, just stares at you like she’s thinking of something funny.

“What?” You ask, eyes narrowing.

“You killed three flying beasts twice your size at once, last week. You're scared of a little water?”

“Fuck you,” you try pushing her away, but she only presses you further into her with her arms around your waist, a laugh escaping her. “There’s nothing little about the fucking ocean.”

“Relax,” she drawls, “it won’t work if you’re tense.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.���

Kafka curls a hand around the back of your neck and suddenly brings you closer to capture your lips with hers. Her head tilts to kiss you better, and you can’t focus on anything but the sweet kisses she presses against your mouth. Your wet hand trails up her spine, causing droplets of water to slide down her back. Your lips part to deepen the kiss when her tongue swipes over your bottom lip. You forget the argument, your muscles relax as her chest touches yours, and by the time she pulls away with a soft exhale through her nose, you almost forget your surroundings. You chase her lips as she leans back, planting a few more chaste kisses on her mouth. She indulges you for a minute, the fingers on your nape tightening their grip for an instant. You’re breathing heavier when she separates from you for good and smiles.

“Now, let’s try it again, mmh?”

Kafka teaches you how to float in the water with firm hands and occasional teasing jabs to which you would respond if she wasn’t the one standing between you and drowning. In the end, you spend most of the day at sea, learning how to keep water from going up your nose without using your fingers and the basics of swimming. Your fingertips are pruned hours later as you emerge from the water. Kafka’s still under— you bet on who could hold their breath the longest— so you dive back beneath the surface as quietly as you can. She calls you a cheater afterwards, but you distract her with wet, slippery kisses.

You’re drying yourselves on the beach as the sun sets below the horizon. You sit on your towel next to Kafka, who’s reclined on her elbows. Her eyes are closed, not a crease between her brows, and her head is tilted upwards. Before, you thought she was sunbathing, but now the temperature is slightly lower than this afternoon and the sun is no longer visible in the sky. You think perhaps she’s simply enjoying the sound of the waves and the salty air like you did earlier. It’s funny, she hasn’t told you what this place means to her; it clearly holds some sort of significance if she returns to it annually. Her way of revealing herself is unconventional at best and a little clumsy, like a fawn taking its first steps. She presents you the sea, this part of her she keeps hidden from everyone, and says nothing else. You watch the lines of her nose, the curves of her lips and their pretty pink color. Her face is bare from any makeup, her hair loose and her expression so relaxed she might’ve been asleep. She’s beautiful. You’re no longer gazing at the ocean, though you feel a familiar sense of wonder as you observe her. Your heart is light in your chest and you suddenly understand how your mother could yearn for something she’s never experienced before.

Kafka’s eyes slowly blink open. She tilts her head to meet your stare with a smile, and you long to love her like your mother longed for the sea.

“Let’s stay a little longer.”

You nod. Your limbs move before you can stop yourself; you straddle her waist, sitting on her lap and snaking your arms around her back. Kafka lets you bury your nose in the crook of her neck, using a hand in the sand to support the both of you.

“What’s that for?” There’s a teasing lilt to her voice as you breathe in the smell of the sea on her skin.

“Nothing,” you lie, pressing a kiss to her skin.

Your mouth trails up her neck to her jaw, tasting salt, and Kafka hums when you kiss her lips. It feels different to kiss her after getting acquainted with the ocean because you finally have something to compare the weightlessness that overwhelms you with each of her fervish kisses. A hand tangles itself in your hair, pulling you closer until she reclines on the ground and your body follows without missing a beat, lips locked.

You pull away to breathe in, only slightly, reveling in the sensation of her hand up your back.

“You’ll get sand in my hair,” Kafka mutters into your mouth.

“I’ll wash it for you.”

On a deserted beach and with the sea as your witness, you kiss her until the moon ascends in the sky and the waves grow stronger behind you.

[webslinger-holland]

Best Pilot in the Galaxy | Tech from The Bad Batch

Summary: During a mission, Tech has a hard time allowing his ship to be driven by someone else.

Warning: slight angst and argument

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader Pilot

Type: Oneshot

The Marauder was sitting on a world in the Outer Rim called Cassander. It was a lush, green planet with a few major bodies of water. However, most notably, the planet was growing in population and had recently become Ord Mantell's most competitive trading rival.

The ship was nearly empty, except for a singular pilot sitting in the cockpit. She was not the rightful owner of the ship, but had been assigned this mission with the group of rouge clones that did own the ship. The squad was located somewhere in the capital city nearby, attempting to steal the package in which they had come for. The pilot waited patiently for the pickup call.

Now, the pilot had been waiting for nearly two hours for the call to come through the comms. She did everything she could think of to pass the time, which included rummaging through the squad's belongings. Though she didn't find anything of value.

The gonk droid made a noise as he waddled into the cockpit. The pilot went through the ship's log, seeing all the planets the squad had recently visited. Their last stop happened to be Ord Mantell where they were assigned this mission in particular.

"Y/n! Come in," Hunter's voice sounded desperate over the comms. She quickly jolted forward in her seat, pressing the button to relay a message back.

"Read you loud and clear," Y/n responded. She began clicking buttons on the control panel, preparing the ship for liftoff.

"We need a pick up. We've been compromised," Hunter explained. He was panting on the other end of the line, which probably meant they were running.

"What part of stealth mission is so hard to understand?"

"Just hurry. We don't have a lot of time. They're sending air support," Hunter warned her.

"Oh great," Y/n scoffed sarcastically.

"I'm sending you our coordinates," Tech interjected over the communications.

As the Marauder departed off the ground, the landing gear retracted back into the ship. The wings moved downwards as the ship was angled towards the sky. The engine roared to life; the ship began flying towards the rendezvous location.

The workers from the trading post were shooting their blasters at the criminals running away from them. They tried to keep up with them, firing relentlessly as they got away with some of their own goods.

It was Wrecker, Hunter, and Tech who were carrying the heavy cargo in the form of a shipping container. Normally, it would take four guys to carry the cargo, but since Wrecker was so strong, he was able to carry the left side without help. Behind them, Echo and Omega fired shots back at the workers. They covered them as the rest ran as fast as they could.

"Whatever is in here, it better be worth it." Wrecker grunted, dodging the blaster fire.

"As long as we get paid," Hunter responded.

The small squad continued running through the vast forest, maneuvering around trees in hopes of using its coverage to their advantage. They came into a clearing with the workers getting closer each second. All of the sudden, a cliff came into their view which caused them to halt in their place.

"Where's our ride?" Echo asked desperately. He peered around his shoulder with his gun still raised.

"There!" Omega pointed into the sky.

The Marauder rounded the corner of the mountain, coming into their line of view. It flew over to the edge of the cliff to meet them. The ramp lowered to hover right by the cliff, allowing the squad to climb aboard the vessel.

The blaster fire was beginning to hit the sides of the ship. The squad fired back, striking a few of the workers down. Once everyone was aboard, Hunter slammed the button on the side of the wall so the ramp was lifted.

"That's everyone," Hunter shouted. "Get us out of here!"

"Roger that," Y/n said.

Pulling a lever, the thrusters sent a powerful volt back which propelled the ship forward rapidly. By steering the ship, Y/n directed the ship back into the mountain range. She could hear the air support coming up behind them. She took a sharp turn to deter them.

The sharp turn caused each member of the squad to loose their footing and grab something nearby to steady themselves. Carefully, Tech quickly made his way into the cockpit. He leaned over the back of the pilot's seat, resting his hand on the panel for support. He hadn't taken the time to remove his helmet.

"That is sufficient," Tech announced to the pilot. "I'll take it from here."

"A little busy here," Y/n stated instead. She turned the wheel to the left, taking another sharp turn which made everything in the ship turn that way. And Tech ended up leaning a little into her.

"Wrecker," Tech ordered. He moved to sit in the co-pilot seat which was where Echo usually sat. "Get to the tail gun."

There were at least six smaller ships following them at this point, firing as many rounds as possible. The Marauder swayed to the left and right, expertly dodging each blast aimed at them. In the tail gun, Wrecker got into position before firing back at the ships. He managed to hit one of them, but it wasn't enough to bring the ship down.

Back in the cockpit, Tech began pressing a few buttons on the control panel. The pilot glared at him through the corner of her eye, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. She maintained her grip on the sides of the wheel.

"Transitioning controls back to co-pilot," Tech announced. He went to press the final red button, but she swatted his hand away. "What are you doing?" Tech demanded an explanation.

"I know how to fly," Y/n said through gritted teeth. Her eyes were still facing forward as she focused on the task at hand.

"I never said you didn't," Tech informed her. "I am simply stating that I am ready to transition controls back to me as I am more capable of flying this vessel than you. It is my ship after all," Tech said as a matter of factly.

Hunter rolled his eyes in the background. He knew it was pointless to argue over the comment.

"You weren't hired to be the pilot for this mission," Y/n argued back. "I can get us out of this."

With that comment, one of the blaster fires struck the right wing which caused it to catch on fire. The two of them peered out the window, spotting the trail of black smoke falling behind the hit.

"You were saying?" Tech replied. He gestured to the damage done to his ship. She rolled her eyes at him.

A few more ships began trailing behind them. They began firing more shots towards them. There was no way one ship could take the whole fleet down.

"Uh guys," Wrecker announced from the tail gun. "We've got more incoming."

Ignoring the comment, Tech quickly transitioned controls back to his wheel before the other pilot could protest. He gripped the wheel harshly, moving the wheel to take a sharp left hand turn. The ship was forced to swerve around the side of the mountain; a few of the enemy ships crashed into the sides as a result. She switched controls back to her wheel, taking a right hand turn. The ship weaved around another mountainside.

Behind the googles of his helmet, Tech squinted his eyes in slight irritation. He changed controls once again. He quickly grabbed onto the lever, pulling it backwards so the thrusters gave another jolt of energy. Now they were flying a little faster.

Nevertheless, another blaster hit managed to strike the back of the ship. The Marauder jolted forward from the force of the blast. The two pilots lurched forward in their seats. The others continued to hold onto things for support.

"You aren't doing much better," Y/n replied snakily. She reached forward to press the button once more. She turned the wheel as far as she could, which caused the ship to completely turn around. She pulled the lever for the extra push.

"What are you doing?" Tech exclaimed. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

Down in the tail gun, Wrecker began firing at the ships flying directly in front of them. With his expertise, he struck down three ships. Those ships exploded into a million pieces, fierce flames erupting around them. The Marauder flew through the fire without taking damage.

The enemy ships needed to turn around before continuing their chase. They quickly swerved their ships. Once the ships were facing the right way, the thrusters kicked in for that extra power. And the enemy continued their pursuit.

"I will only say this one more time," Tech's modulated voice spoke through his helmet. He turned to face her in his seat. His eyes looked angry behind his googles. "Relinquish controls now."

"Over my dead body," Y/n challenged him. She didn't take her eyes off him.

In the background, Hunter and Echo seemed to raise their eyebrows at the two pilots. They looked between them, half expecting one of them to cave in and go back to flying the ship. But neither of them faltered.

"Uh guys," Omega interrupted them.

Both of them directed their line of attention back towards flying the ship. With a quick maneuver, they managed to dodge the mountain they were heading straight for at the last second. A few more ships crashed into it.

"You're both going to get us all killed if you don't figure something out," Hunter shouted behind them.

Reaching forward, Y/n went to press a few more buttons, but Tech swatted her hand away this time. He went ahead and pressed his own buttons. He was punching in the coordinates for their destination.

"You are not the best pilot in the galaxy," Y/n claimed. She glanced at him through the corner of her eye. He kept putting in the coordinates.

"Hardly a measurable cause," Tech said with a roll of his eyes in annoyance.

"You haven't made the Kessel Run in fourteen parsecs," Y/n added. It was like she was insisting that it could be measurable.

"I have a theory that it can be done in twelve," Tech stated as a matter of factly.

"I highly doubt that," Y/n chuckled at the comment.

Suddenly, Y/n pressed the wheel forward with all of her might. The ship began to descend down at a rapid pace, shifting into a nose dive position. The ground was growing closer and closer with each second. The enemy ships following right behind them, firing non-stop.

Both Hunter and Echo were holding onto panels behind them. The force of falling forwards was pushing them back. They were unable to move.

"You have to pull up--" Tech ordered in a slight panic.

"Oh for the last time," Y/n shouted over him. "I know what I'm doing!"

At the last possible second, the wonderfully skilled pilot pulled the wheel into her chest so that the ship was pulled up. It was so close to touching the ground, but it missed it by a hair. The last two ships crashed into the ground, exploding suddenly and sending debris flying.

Now that the threat of the chase was finally over, Y/n could relax in her seat a little. The rest of the squad was completely silent, realizing that she had managed to get them out of the situation with little damage in the end. Beside her, Tech kept his eye on her since he was still angry with her.

The Marauder started to climb in altitude, shifting towards the edge of the planet's atmosphere. It finally passed through the atmosphere, flying through space. The stars throughout the galaxy sparkled as the planet grew small and smaller. It was now all behind them.

"Are the coordinates to Ord Mantell in?" Y/n wondered. Her voice was so much calmer now. Her shoulders slumped at her sides. But she refused to make eye contact.

"Yes. They are in," Tech informed her softly. His eyes softened behind his helmet. He studied her carefully, trying to figure out what she was thinking in that brain of hers. He quickly shook it off, directing his attention back towards the void of space in front of them.

Without thinking, Tech and Y/n went to reach for the lever to send them into hyperspace. Their hands grazed each other's with neither of them being any closer to the lever than the other. They both awkwardly pulled their hands away upon contact.

"I'm sorry," Y/n muttered under her breath.

He wasn't sure if she was apologizing for the situation they just came out of or the situation that just occurred with the lever. Nevertheless, she reached for the lever once again, pulling it back to send the ship into hyperspace.

Back at Ord Mantell, the Bad Batch went back to Cid's Parlor. They stood on the other side of her desk, having just delivered the cargo that she paid them to retrieve. She peered into the package, checking to make sure everything was there.

Behind the group, Y/n stood there in total silence. Her eyes were trained on the floor as she shifted in her place awkwardly. She waited for their boss to address them.

Beside her, Tech stood about an arm's length away. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye, taking note of her odd demeanor. He raised his finger and opened his mouth to say something to her, but he was rudely cut off.

"Looks like everything is here," Cid announced. She closed the cargo container. She began rummaging through her drawers, collecting the correct amount of credits to pay both parties.

Now Y/n went to take a few steps forward and made her way through the members of the squad. She stood in front of the desk. Her boss went ahead and placed a handful of credits in her hand.

"That is your cut," Cid told her. She handed the rest of the credits to Hunter. "And here is your cut. I'll call you when I have another job," Cid claimed.

There was a brief moment of silence in the room. Cid went to cross her arms over her chest. She narrowed her eyes at the company of six standing in front of her.

"You guys work well together," Cid said honestly. "You should work together more often."

In response, Y/n breathed a scoff under her breath. The boys turned their heads to look at her, slightly surprised at her reaction. She shook her head in denial.

"Yeah. Like that's ever going to happen," Y/n rolled her eyes at the notion.

Without hesitation, she spun around on the heels of her feet in order to head towards the door. She purposely bumped into Tech's shoulder a little too harshly. She left the room with the door closing behind her.

"What's wrong with her?" Cid scoffed. She looked at the rest of the squad for some form of explanation, but none of them said anything. "Fine! Be all quiet and mysterious. See if I care," Cid said.

By the time the Bad Batch left Cid's office, Y/n was nowhere to be found in the bar. They went to sit down at the bar so they could order drinks to celebrate another successful mission. They sat in complete silence, thinking about what transpired during the mission.

"Where do you think she's gone?" Echo wondered.

Though they never pulled missions together, the Bad Batch knew that the pilot worked for Cid and was stationed at Ord Mantell. They had seen her quite often over the past few months. They had grown familiar of her. And now they worried about her.

"The odds are that she returned to her flat," Tech explained. He pushed the bridge of his googles up to be more secure on his face. He kept his focus on his data pad.

"Probably," Hunter shrugged his shoulders. "But it's late. Which means it's dark out."

"Astute observation," Tech claimed sarcastically. He gave a single nod, but didn't take his eyes off his data pad.

"And she's walking back to her flat...at the edge of town...late at night," Hunter further explained.

"She will be fine," Tech stated. He knew where he was going with this. "She is always saying how she can take care of herself and doesn't need our help. Why would that change now?"

The other members remained silent. They turned their heads to take quick glances at one another. With a silent agreement, Hunter rose to his feet and went to stand by Tech. He roughly grabbed his shoulders and hoisted him out of his seat, much to his dismay.

"Go find her. Make sure she gets home safe. And apologize to her," Hunter ordered.

"I do not see why I have to be the one to apologize when I did noth--" Tech began. He was quickly cut off.

"Tech," Hunter said in a warning tone of voice. He crossed his arms over his chest, showing that he meant business.

"Fine," Tech said in defeat. "I will apologize."

With some hesitation, Tech grabbed his helmet and fitted it over his head. He began making his way towards the door of the parlor, leaving the rest of his crew behind. He walked through the deserted streets of Ord Mantell, passing a few shady people in the process.

Now Tech knew that she lived near the edge of town because she had once mentioned it during a conversation. Besides that, Tech really didn't know where to look and simply hoped he'd bump into her before she got home so he'd know she was safe. He passed by a few alleys, peeking through each one briefly.

The Marauder was parked in a hanger bay only a few blocks away from the parlor. Just as Tech passed by the hanger, he heard a familiar voice coming from his very own ship. He backtracked by taking two steps backwards. He peered into the hangar bay to glance at his ship.

Stepping into the bay, Tech tilted his head to the side in slight curiosity. The right wing of the ship began to move downwards until it lay completely horizontal. A few seconds later, Y/n began descending down the ramp with a toolbox in hand. She walked over to the wing of the ship.

Upon seeing her, Tech sharply inhaled. He felt the back of his throat close up and his shoulders tensed at his sides. He hesitantly took a few steps forward, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

Reaching upwards, Y/n placed the single toolbox onto the flat surface of the ship's wing. She proceeded to grab onto the wing before hoisting herself up onto it. She climbed to the center of the wing to assess the damage inflicted in the crossfire.

At this point, Y/n had no idea that he was also in the hanger bay with her. She opened the toolbox, rummaging through to find the right tool. The damage done to the right wing was a massive gaping hole with burnt edges from the fire. It would eventually need a panel welded to cover it up again. But for now, she focused on the internal repairs.

Thankfully, from the assessment, nothing major had been hit. A few bolts had gotten loose and a few parts needed to be replaced. She focused on that for now.

After grabbing a socket spanner, Y/n leaned down to place her arm into the gaping hole of the wing. It went so far down that her chest was practically pressed against the surface of the wing. She used the spanner to tighten some bolts.

"What...are you doing?" Tech decided to finally announce his presence. He stepped forward until he stood in the light coming from the opening of the hanger bay.

Upon hearing that familiar voice, Y/n only rolled her eyes to herself. She continued her work as she preferred to focus on repairs rather than on him. She grunted softly, making sure that first bolt was nice and tight.

"What do you want Tech?" Y/n wondered. She pulled her arm out of the hole to assess her work. She didn't even bother to glance towards him, knowing he would have sent her a look of disapproval for working on his ship.

Slowly, Tech began to lower his gaze to the floor. He contemplated his next words carefully, fighting the urge to lash out at her for meddling with his ship. He liked things to be a certain way and would have much preferred if he did the actual repairs. Now Tech didn't want to fight with her so he changed his approach.

"I analyzed that you left the parlor on your own and thought it would be better if I accompany you back home," Tech explained. She huffed at his answer.

"I've told you before," Y/n began. "I can--"

"Take care of yourself," Tech finished. He adjusted the lenses of his goggles though he still wore his helmet. He noticed how she fell silent. "Yes, I've gathered that much."

"Why are you really out here?" Y/n wondered. She went to lean down again in order to tighten more bolts.

"I...could ask you the same," Tech replied slowly. He honestly felt like this was the first civil conversation they had ever had.

"I wanted to make some repairs on your precious ship since it was apparently my fault," Y/n claimed. Her tone sounding a little harsher now. She tightened two more bolts in the process.

"That is not what I meant," Tech interjected. He took a step forward. He gazed up at her figure perched on the wing, attempting to reason with her. "I was...caught up in the moment. Shouldn't have said those things," Tech confessed quietly.

"Well, don't worry. As soon as I finish up these repairs, I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again," Y/n responded.

For some reason, Tech couldn't combat a response to her comment. He simply nodded his head understandingly. He lowered his gaze to stare down at the ground and allowed her to finish her repairs in silence. He thought for some time how he could fix this relationship since it wasn't his strong suit. Fixing things was more his style.

"Blast," Y/n's voice pulled him out of his train of thought. He glanced up at her.

The sleeve of her blue flight suit had gotten in the way of her repairs. She had rolled her sleeves up to keep the material out of her way, but the sleeves continued to fall back down to her wrists every time she placed her arm in the hole. She pulled back and rose to her feet.

Without hesitation, Y/n's hands flew to the top button of her flight suit. She began to undue the buttons in which she revealed the black tank top underneath. All the while, Tech studied her carefully as her nimble fingers worked steadily. His pupils dilated behind those goggles of his.

Upon reaching her waistline, Y/n had stopped unbuttoning and shrugged the suit off her shoulders. She tied the sleeves around her waist. She dropped to her knees to continue working without the distraction of her clothes getting in the way.

Slowly, Tech raised his hand to the side of his head and clicked the bottom to save the recording to the drive. He records everything and he was certainly glad he recorded that. He wanted to revisit the recording later for his own 'research' purposes.

"There," Y/n sighed. She sat back on her knees, wiping her dirty hands on the pants of her flight suit. "Repairs are finished."

Naturally, Y/n began to pack away the tools she used and placed them back into the box. She closed the lid of the toolbox, tossing it over the edge of the wing for it to land on the ground with a thump. She then proceeded to jump down off the wing of the ship, landing a little hard so her knees buckled slightly.

Just like she promised, Y/n had every intention of leaving the hanger bay so that they'd never have to see her again. She went to walk away, but just as she passed beside him, Tech reached out and grabbed her forearm. She halted in her steps.

Neither of them could look at each other. She felt his gloved fingers digging into her bare skin, but not hard enough that it would leave marks. She slowly turned to look at him, but he kept his head down.

"I...really came here to apologize," Tech confessed. When Tech lifted his gaze to meet her face, he saw how her eyebrows went up in slight surprise. It definitely caught her off guard.

"I see," Y/n thought about his words carefully. She shifted her balance from one foot to the other. "So all those things you said back on Cassander where just...what?"

He closed his eyes, seriously regretting everything he said. "Like I said earlier, in the moment, I was incredibly frustrated with you."

"Because I wouldn't give up the controls?" Y/n said flatly.

"No, because I recognize that my levels of dopamine are elevated when I'm around you and I distance myself from you in order to prevent that from happening,” Tech confessed before he could even stop himself.

But now, hearing what he just said, Tech quickly averted his gaze away from her. He was thankful to be wearing his helmet so she wouldn't see how bright his cheeks had gotten. He released his grip on her arm, letting it fall back down to his side.

For once, Y/n actually understood what he said. Her eyebrows rose in surprise at this sudden confession. She definitely did not expect him to blurt out his emotions that night, especially after their fight on the ship. She knew better than to tease him at a time like this.

"I-I don't understand why," Tech said rather sadly. That was the first time that he'd spoken those words out loud.

What broke her heart was the tone of defeat laced with his words. It told her that he'd been wrestling with these foreign emotions and thoughts for some time. He didn't know how to react around her and so he acted with defense. He pushed those feeling away, fighting against it.

Hesitantly, Y/n lifted her hands to the sides of his helmet. She went to remove his helmet slowly, revealing his face to her for the first time today. She tossed the helmet to the side without a care in the world, but he still refused to meet her gaze.

"You are probably repulsed by me," Tech began. "From the way I treated you and the words I said to--"

But Tech wasn't able to finish that sentence. Because Y/n had taken his face in her hands and leaned upwards to press her lips against his own. He froze in his place.

His eyes were wide open in surprise. His hands were elevated on either side of him because he didn't know what to do with them. He could feel the softness of her lips still against his own. Before Tech had the chance to process what was happening, Y/n pulled away from him.

The two of them were standing so close together; the chests being pressed against one another's. Their breath mingled as their noses bumped together once or twice. He glanced down at her lips because he wanted nothing more than to taste them once more.

His hands found their way down to her hips with one hand sneaking around her lower back. He pressed that hand into her back which brought her body even closer to his. She released a small gasp.

"Apology accepted," Y/n whispered to him. She played with the edge of the plastoid armor on his chest. "And I'm sorry for the way I acted towards you."

"Why cyare?" Tech wondered. He raised his hand to the side of her face, tucking a single strand of hair behind her ear. He held his hand against her cheek.

"I should have given up the controls. You are the better pilot and it is your ship," Y/n explained with a shake of the head.

"I am not the better pilot," Tech stated firmly.

There was a moment of silence between them. "I can't make split second decisions and calculations like you do when you're flying."

"Well, I've never done the Kessel Run." Tech argued back playfully. He smiled down at her. "At least, not in twelve parsecs."

"Fourteen," Y/n corrected him. "I did it in fourteen."

"Fine. Fourteen," Tech caved in.

Slowly, Tech tilted his head to the side and began to lean down with every intention of kissing her again. But the two of them were interrupted when someone cleared their throat over by the entrance of the hanger bay. The two of them quickly pulled apart and turned to face whoever had interrupted them.

The other members of the Bad Batch stood looking at them near the entrance of the hanger. It was initially Hunter who had cleared his throat to garner their attention; he stood with his arms folded across his chest just as a disapproving father would. Beside him, Wrecker and Omega were practically squealing with each other. They couldn't contain their excitement. And Echo averted his gaze in an awkward manner.

"Care to explain yourselves?" Hunter hinted. He glanced between the two of them with a playful smirk on his face.

"I think they finally confessed that they like each other," Wrecker interrupted. His words coming out louder than anticipated. He nudged Echo who stood beside him.

"You think?" Echo glanced at him.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" Omega smiled at them.

Meanwhile, Tech quickly collected his helmet off the ground and placed it over his head once again. He hoped it would cover the blush creeping up his neck to his face. He knew he wouldn't hear the end of the taunting from his brothers anytime soon.

"Well boys. It looks like we got another member on our crew," Hunter said slowly. "Welcome to the Bad Batch."

[ro-written]

Bright Like Night, My Sea of Stars - V.S

Tags/Warnings: Sanji is in loveeeee (aw), Tsundere!Reader, reader had a VERY rough childhood (read: Kuro and the Black Cats), violence, angst, fluff, cussing, it is 1 am and I am not editing this rn but i will later lol

Word Count: 4.2k

Playlist:

“CIGARETTES” by Amir Obè “Just Pretend” by Bad Omens “Oceans” by Seafret “Da Selby Pt. 1” by Hozier

He’s sure he was in love. He knew it because the feeling in his chest was one he had never experienced before. Well, not like this. 

Not in the way he feels a squeeze at just a simple look you give him. A concerned look when he’s out of breath from fighting. An excited look that you tried to hide when you realized he made your favorite dish again. A peaceful look when the stars and the ocean blend to create a more infinite galaxy and you have the fortuitous chance to view it. 

Just as the waters echoed back the bright lights of the sky, he mirrored the look you cast while he realized that he, a mere human, had the absolute blessing of being in the presence of an ethereal entity such as yourself. His ocean that will always answer your stars.

He didn’t understand it, to tell you the truth. How could he be so lucky to end up in the presence of the person he knew he was destined to be with?

By chance, it was you and the crew who walked into the restaurant. And as pissed off with Zeff as he wished to be, it was Zeff’s decision to put him out on the floor that landed him in front of you. He kicks himself now for flirting with Nami first before you. Since once he heard that pretty laugh, bright enough to make even the nastiest at Baratie have their heart stutter, he could feel it in his throat. A knot. Constricting against his windpipe. The compliment he had ready to launch at you was right on the tip of his tongue, and it refused to come out. Because nothing he could possibly say could be the right thing. He could never possibly compose the right words to let you know the tidal surges you created within him. So, with a red face, he looked at you and mustered up the word: “Water.”

You stared at him with a raised eyebrow and squinted eyes, lips partly open. “Was that a statement? Or a question?” You had laughed out slightly. His staring started to unnerve you, and you cleared your throat to look around.

“Hey, waiter,” Zoro to the rescue. “You okay?”

That seemed to snap him out of the trance you had summoned Sanji in, he whipped his head to face the green-haired swordsman with a nasty look.

“I am not a waiter.”

With that simple statement, he turned to walk back to the kitchen.

Maybe you had some sort of influence over his decision to join the Straw Hats. But he didn’t admit that. Zeff did.

You seemed to have some sort of effect over him, unfortunately. This effect kept him from being able to come up with witty comments and quips to launch at you and ultimately left him stuttering and stumbling over himself while you watched him with a look asking if he was okay. He wasn’t. In the worst way.

Eventually, eventually, he found his footing and could somewhat properly talk to you. Questions about if you had any input on dinner, if you had seen his whisk, or if you knew how much longer for the next stop (that one could have been directed to Nami or Luffy, but anything to talk to you.) And you can’t forget the silly little flirtatious comments. Not at all his best work. 

“Is that a new haircut?” He asked, leaning against the countertop in the kitchen.

“No?”

“Oh well…you-uh. You look good with it.” He rushed out after that one.

He was a man in love.

And he had no clue what he was doing.

It brought him to Nami’s door one night, after cleaning up from dinner. She seemed to have the most common sense when it came to people. If anyone could help him, it had to be her. I mean, what other choice did he have? 

“Sanji, you have to understand that…for them it’s more difficult than you realize.” Nami sat on her hammock with her arms crossed, staring at Sanji as if he grew another head. He put his hands out in front of him, making exaggerated movements with his arms.

“Well, yea I know they are pretty stoic but that’s why I am he–” 

“No, Sanji, you don’t understand. This is one you might want to sit out.” She cut him off before he got too far ahead. Her words confused him. Sit it out? Why? His face contorted and he cocked his head to the side, frown pulling at his features. Nami sighed, telling him to grab the stool that sat right under her mirror, to which he pulled it out and sat in front of her.

Thus started the story of you.

Taken from your parents at such a young age by the Black Cat Pirates. All because your parents weren’t able to offer up tribute. You were raised to clean the ship, dodging Kuro as much as you could. But it could never last long. It started after you turned ten, the training. The rigorous, violent training. He taught you everything he knew, one way or another. If you didn’t learn quick enough, the punishment would land you with you being stitched together by the ship’s lackluster doctor whose training included being given a needle, thread, and some alcohol and told “good luck!” But it didn’t stop.

Kuro made you eat the Devil Fruit. Forced down your throat while the others held you down. His own little secret weapon, one that people never suspected when happened to “wash up” on their front door step, pleading for help. Or after you became of age, and could tempt people back to Kuro for their final exit from this world. Their screams were why you frequented the comfort of the night sky when everyone was back in bed. Why Sanji could regularly find you staring longingly into the sea. The ocean. Your love, and your demise.

“It’s a lost cause, Sanji. I don’t know if they will ever truly feel such peace to where they can accept such love.”

He left Nami’s cabin feeling especially heavy that night. And when he walked out on deck to see you staring down into the ocean, he held his breath. What does he say now? Sorry that you had the world’s shittiest childhood, but I can treat you right. That would be a winner for sure.

He decided to not join you that night. Or the next.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to join you. Fuck, he was chomping at the bit to go see you. And that’s why he couldn’t. Not until he figured himself out in this entire equation. He didn’t want to freak you out, scare you away. Everything you grew up with…there was a burning desire for him to protect you. But he didn’t know how.

The complete shift in attitude from the chef did startle you, though. Your interactions of awkward short conversations with his absolute failed attempts of flirting became him attempting to dodge you entirely. You would walk into the kitchen for a snack, just something simple, and he would leave out immediately. You would look at Luffy, sitting at the table with wide eyes, munching on a sandwich. He would simply shrug his shoulders, and continue to grub on his (immensely large) snack. You sighed, rolling your eyes, and headed to the cold chest to get something.

Something within you was…pissed off though. Angry. But you couldn’t put your finger on why.

If that asshole wants to ignore me, then so be it.

You were washing your clothes out on the deck, pinning them up on the wire you and Nami had set up. You had chosen this spot in particular to have the line strung so that the sun would hit the clothes, but also so that you could listen to the waves crash hit the boat while you did your chores. Hearing the water move made your brain silent, making it easier to go on when you were by yourself.

But you weren’t completely by yourself.

You could hear his steps around the corner, stopping just before he “revealed” himself to you, watching you from afar. The crew was always amazed at how sharp your hearing was, rivaling Zoro’s. But being on a boat full of pirates that dubbed themselves the “Black Cats” would do that to you. You still remember the weeks of training Kuro put you through vividly. No matter how hard you tried to put it out of your mind. 

You closed your eyes and inhaled a deep breath of the salty ocean’s smell.

“Sanji.” You called him out from his hiding spot. He hesitated, but then slowly walked from around the corner, taking a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lighting it. He stops a bit of ways from you, watching out at the water.

“So, have you finally decided to talk to me?” You opened your eyes and continued to pin your sheets on the line. His eyes jumped to you, wide with shock.

“Wh– What do you mean?”

“For almost a week now you’ve been dodging me.”

“No I haven’t!”

You stopped your chores before turning your head towards him, eyebrows raised and debating back and forth with yourself if you should knock him in the head or not. You decided on the latter, and scoff instead.

“While this boat is considerably larger than what the crew started with, it’s not that big. People notice when someone is running away from them. Especially here.” You resumed your task again as he sat there, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, processing what you said. 

You finally finish hanging your laundry and grab the empty basket, placing it on your hip before turning away and walking back towards your room. Before you could get around the corner though, he spoke up again.

“Nami told me.” You froze. “She…she told me what happened.”

You only turned your body slightly, your right side facing him. It was enough of a sign for him to continue on.

“And I’m sorry that happened to you, (Y/N). No one should ever, ever go through even a day of what you grew up with.”

“I don’t need your fucking sympathy, Sanji.” You grit out.

“That’s not what I– I just– I’m trying to– Fucking goddamn it.” He took his cigarette out and threw it out at the water, your eyes staying trained on his face. His hand rubbed down his face, struggling to string together a coherent sentence of what he wanted to say.

“Listen, stove boy, I don’t need you or any of their goddamn pity. So if that’s what this is about, then you can sho–”

“I’m in love with you!”

It was silence. Deafening silence. He couldn’t read your face. It was just…blank.

“I’m…I’m fucking in love with you. Everything about you. Your damn smile that seems like it’s rarer than the All Blue. Your passion and care for this crew. Your bits of wisdom when we need it the most. Your smart ass comments. Just fucking all of it. I want all of it.” His voice sounded absolutely desperate, and if you were to actually stop to listen to the nagging feeling in your gut, you would have recognized it as something. 

“I guess what I’m asking is…I was hoping that maybe we could…be…closer? You and me?” With bated breath, he watches as you stare at him, taking in everything he said.

And you responded with one simple word.

“No.”

His heart pounded in his ears. Blood rushed to his head as his heart jumped to his throat, effectively choking him of his answer. You stood there watching him for a moment before you sighed, turning around to continue your walk.

“Then I will never stop.” He called out, once again, stopping your feet’s movement. You didn’t turn around again this time. He took one step closer to you, though.

“I won’t stop (Y/N). Not until you realize that you are safe. That I can keep you safe. I won’t stop until you realize that you are deserving of love. And I will show you that love.” You grit your teeth, jaw clenching.

“Until my heart has been ripped from me, and my body is tossed into this cruel ocean. And even then, not even the harshest storms or waves will keep me from you.”

You walked away.

It was a particularly difficult battle, but nevertheless, you persisted. Your kyoketsu-shoge flew through the agitators attacking your crew, blade slicing through them effortlessly. You could hear Sanji’s grunts from his fighting behind you, and you took a split second to look back, checking in on him to ensure he was okay.

You were thankful you did, as one of the “Purple Band” pirates charged at him while Sanji dealt with one aggressor already. You whipped the rope around on your weapon, turning your body and letting it launch towards the pirate. The ring wrapped perfectly around his leg, and you pulled, causing him to fall into the sand. Using your strength, you pulled him over to you, him fighting and clawing at the sand the entire time in order to get away. However, as soon as he was close enough, you jumped on him, blade sinking deep through his sternum in his chest. After one last gurgle, he finally stopped wiggling, and you took a deep breath before unsheathing your blade and wiping it off on the (now dead) pirate’s clothes. You stood up, unraveled his ankle from your rope, and looked at Sanji, who was watching you. 

It surprised you, but you tried to not show it in your face much. You could feel your heart pounding, however, ready to burst from your chest. You brush it off as coming down off the adrenaline from a fight. But you watched as his eyes scanned down your body, checking to see if any of the blood from the battle was yours. He only breathed out a sigh of relief when he decided it wasn’t.

“Are…Are you okay?” You asked him in a voice that sounded almost worried. Almost.

“I’m good. How are you? Are you hurt anywhere?” He took a gentle step forward, but stopped before he got too far. But something had caught his eye. A slight shine came from the sand.

“I’m fi–” 

“Look out!” He flings his body against you, causing you to drop to the ground. 

The next thing you hear is a shot, a yell, and his body dropping to the ground next to you.

You heard Zoro’s Wado Ichimonji slice through the gun, and, eventually, the pirate who had shot the ghastly bullet. But it all tuned out for you, as you stared at the blond man groaning through his gritted teeth next to you, rolling onto his side.

“S-Sanji?” You crawl on top of his body, seeing him open and close his eyes dazedly. “Hey, look at me now, keep those eyes open.” You pat his cheek gently.

“I must be dead…” He smiled, looking directly at your face. “Because there is no way such an angel like you is on top of me. Not in this lifetime.” His smile was cut off by a painful grunt.

“Hold on Sanji, Zoro and Luffy are coming over and we– we are gonna get you back to the ship, okay?” You sputtered out words while you tried to remember any medical training you possibly could. But Kuro never thought you would need anything like that. Sanji gurgled up some blood, with some of it splattering onto your face.

“(Y/N) we need to grab him,” Zoro’s voice came from behind you as you stared in horror at the cook’s endless coughing. Nami grabbed your shoulders and pulled you back, allowing for Luffy and Zoro to pick Sanji up and hurry him back to the ship. You sat there in the sand for a moment, Usopp to your left and Nami to your right, watching as the two men carried Sanji back. But eventually, you got up, and rushed to follow them.

Hours.

Hours of Nami and Usopp keeping you out of the room while the doctor that Luffy and Zoro found was in there to help Sanji. You could hear his grunts and yells as you paced around the deck, trying so hard to focus on the sounds of the ocean, but only able to hear him. 

He was in so much pain. And you couldn’t do anything about it except fucking wait. He took that goddamn bullet for you, and you couldn’t do shit for him.

Eventually, the yelling stopped, and before you could bolt to the door to bust it down, Luffy and Zoro walked out. Their faces looked grim and you tried to get a read on them besides that. As soon as you tried to open your mouth, the doctor walked out, apron bloodied. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Is he gonna be okay?” You stood solidly, attempting to keep your voice as steady as possible. None of the crew members had seen you in such a state. Sure, you could keep yourself together well enough, but they could still see the look in your eyes. A frantic search for someone to tell you anything. The doctor simply sighed, adjusting his glasses.

“I’ve done what I can for now. All you can do at this point is wait. It’s up to him and how much fight he’s got in him.”

You stared at the older man. A part of you wanted to reach out and strangle him. To tell him to go in there and make Sanji better. To make him keep going until your cook woke up. But you didn’t. How could you? He did his job, and that’s all you could have asked for.

So, your shoulders fell and you took a deep sigh before you walked into his room.

“I’m worried.”

“Well, we’re all a bit worried.”

“Yea, but, Luffy…(Y/N) has been in there for the past four days. Only leaves to eat or use the bathroom. It’s not healthy.” Nami dropped her hands in exasperation. Luffy simply stared at her, a pained, tight-lipped smile as he tried to figure out what to do.

“We both know how any conversation would go. I think we need to let this play out, Nami.” Zoro stepped in to give his insight. He shared a somewhat similar personality to you the most. If anyone might have any idea on how to proceed with your (unhealthy) actions, it would have been him.

“I hear what you’re saying, but I really do think we should go–” The door to the kitchen opening cut Nami off, and you walked in. Everyone’s eyes turned to you, and you simply looked back at them. The sudden silence told you everything you needed to know about the conversation you walked in on.

“I was just going to make some soup for him. He may be hungry when he wakes up.” Was all you stated before moving to the stove to get started on your cooking.

You had taken over pretty much all of the “Sanji watch shifts.” Occasionally, they would pop in to see how both he, and you, were doing. They would come in to see you changing his bandages, or would find you reading a book to him aloud at times. More often than not, though, you would just talk. Out of the months the crew knew you, these past four days have been your most talkative. 

Usopp even swore he heard you sing once. They all brushed that one off.

You finished making the soup, putting it in a bowl and grabbing a spoon, making your leave to allow the others to keep talking about you.

You knew they were worried, and some part of you felt bad for being the cause of the worry. But an even bigger part of you could only think of Sanji and doing whatever you could to make him feel better. Your mind was set.

You sat down right back where you had been for days, soup in your lap ready and waiting for him to wake up. You stared down at it, thinking back to a few weeks ago, a bit after his declaration of love. 

He had made your favorite dish. You don’t even know how he figured it out, or if maybe one of the crewmates told him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to really mind too much. Not after taking a bite out of it. It was even better than when you had it for the first time all those years ago. When Kuro decided to “treat you” for your sixteenth birthday. At least, that was what he said. You knew the truth – that it was actually because you had scored him such a big treasure all by acting a little helpless and scared at the doors of some mansion an elderly couple owned. Right before he came in to…

“How is it?” Sanji sat in front of you, a smile on his face, eyes wide. You didn’t realize you had been staring so hard at the dish as if it was speaking to you. Your head jolted up, registering what the cook had just asked.

“This is…it’s good. Thank you.” You continued to eat, and he sat there watching as you took down another bite, and another, and another. One corner of his lips lifted up and there was some type of…adoration in his eyes.

“You know, I learned a phenomenal recipe for it when this one chef came in to Baratie,” he went into a story as you continued. “He showed me certain tricks and what the best types of ingredients were for it.”

“Yeah? What did he teach you?” You look at him with a raised eyebrow, still shoveling more food in.

“Well I can’t tell you all my secrets, now can I?” He winked at you. It felt weird, how smooth he could flirt with you now after everything that happened between you two. Maybe that was all it took for him. Putting his heart out to you as he did.

“What if you’re not here one day? How else will I be able to make it this well?”

“You don’t gotta worry about that, love. I plan to always be around to make it.” He looked down at your, almost clean, plate.

“I’ll make whatever you want. If it means your happiness, I’ll do it.”

You didn’t realize the tears were falling until one dropped onto the rim of the bowl. You looked up at Sanji’s body, still out cold, and wiped the tears off your face. You let out the littlest laugh.

“You know, you told me I didn’t have to worry about knowing those little tricks you mentioned because you’d always be around. Guess who was right?” You laughed humorlessly, still staring at his face. He was so pale, one might have mistaken him for being dead. And with his breathing so shallow…

It broke you.

“You wanted to be close? Right? Well if you wake up, we can be closer. That’s all you gotta do, stove boy. You wake up, and I will listen to all your ridiculous flirting attempts and try all your different food experiments and…” Your voice died out, once again staring at the bowl in your lap. Fuck. 

You finally decided to just put it to the side and get up to kneel right next to his bed, grabbing at his hand.

“I’m…I’m scared, Sanji. I’m terrified. I can’t get close to any of you because I could hurt you. Kuro isn’t dead and when he finds out that all of you have become something to me, he will kill you. Friends get in the way of doing a job. He will kill anyone to get me back, his fucking weapon, and I can’t–” Your voice cracked as the tears once again ran down your cheeks onto your chin.

“...I can’t lose you Sanji.” You put your forehead down on the bed. “You’ve made me safe here. Always putting me before you, always checking on me. You fucking made me my favorite food. And he can take that all away once he finds me.” You sobbed into the mattress. Reality struck you viciously, repeatedly, over your back, with a metal pipe. What happens when he doesn’t wake up?

“He won’t.”

You inhaled sharply. 

“He won’t take anything.” His voice croaked out, hoarse from having no water for days. “Kuro.”

You lifted your head up from the bed to look at the chef’s face. His eyes, while a difficult feat, opened up to look at you.

“Because I won’t let him come near you. Ever again.” He looked so deadly serious. “You’ve had to protect yourself for so long, (Y/N). Please, let me do it.” His hand squeezed yours, reminding you that you still held it.

A smile took over your face, and you laughed. A true laugh. One that you couldn’t remember when, or if, you’ve ever felt before. One that supplied your entire body with elatement. Relief filled your lungs, and you threw your body over his to give him a hug. With this, he too laughed, feeling honored to see the rare sight of you truly, thoroughly happy. 

The waves crashing outside against the boat filled the air, and your body relaxed 

If you couldn’t feel the sea, well…

He would be your ocean.

This was written by @/ro-written and is not to be plagiarized, translated, or distributed anywhere else. Copyright 2024.

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