#I just don’t want to exits I don’t want to be alive I have nothing and no one to exist for but i also can’t even stop existing

[whimsyprinx]

idk how to explain to people that like I’m trying my best to see the point in life and be optimistic and like hopeful but literally there isn’t anything to base hope and optimism on

[fangswbenefits]

Consequences

Summary: Miguel’s obsession with you reaches a breaking point, and now he’s left to deal with the consequences.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 2.5k

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Shy/inexperienced sweet reader. Pining. Pillow hump*ng.

Part 1 (if you’re just starting out) - Previous part

Miguel hadn’t managed to get a single second of sleep.

After having heard you mumble that name over and over, he had retreated to the living room, scanning through your file like a madman, hoping he’d find out who this person was.

Tom.

He had Lyla comb through everything, but nothing had come up.

By the time six in the morning rolled around, you exited the room with a long yawn, stretching out your arms, as Miguel sat on his counch, eyeing you intensely.

Still not wearing a bra.

Still in his shirt.

But having mumbled someone else’s name.

Needless to say, this ordeal had effectively killed his boner for good.

It was hard for him to hide his scowl. “Sleep well?”

Your lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Hmm. You?”

Laughable.

He nodded, not wanting his voice to betray his feelings.

“Do you think I can take a shower before I go to the lab?”

“Sure.”

You glared at him, arching an eyebrow. “Is… everything okay?”

“Of course,” he said, clearing his throat. “You have some fresh towels in there.”

“Great!” you chirped happily, disappearing into the bathroom.

Maybe a few hours ago, Miguel O’Hara would have been rock hard from the thought of you being naked with nothing but a door in the way.

But he was having a hard time focusing on anything beyond his blinding jealousy.

Who was Tom? A boyfriend? Family? A pet? Someone random?

Or someone important?

Why didn’t he know about this? Was he overreacting? Maybe there was nothing to be jealous of.

But he was sure of something: he needed answers.

He walked up to the kitchen and brew himself a cup of coffee, needing to deal with the headache that had settled.

Not long after, you emerged from the bathroom, completely soaked in the scent of his body wash, and he nearly gasped at how it completely overtook his senses.

Already in your suit, you quickly dropped by his bedroom to drop off his clothes, and walked right back, bearing a sleepy smile.

“Want something to eat?”

You nodded, sitting on the stool by the counter. “Yes, please. Do you have some fruit?”

He grabbed his cup of coffee and scanned the cupboard. “An apple?”

“Yes!” you beamed.

Miguel offered you one that you immediately brought to your lips, sinking your teeth into the soft surface.

To someone on the outside, this could be considered a moment between a couple who was just getting ready to start the day.

Everything looked very… domestic.

Except, it wasn’t.

Maybe he shouldn’t ask. Would it be too much?

But he had to know. It was eating him alive inside not knowing.

“Who’s Tom?”

Your eyes shot up to meet his and you immediately stopped chewing. “What?”

Miguel tried to appear as casual as possible, but something in your reaction made him regret having asked in the first place.

There was no going back now, so he might as well push for it.

Right?

“I heard you in your sleep,” he went on, taking a sip of his coffee. “You whispered that name.”

Your face had hardened lightly and your gaze dropped to the apple in your hand. “Uh… yeah. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

I didn’t even sleep…

“Is he family or…?”

You swallowed and slid off the stool, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s no big deal. Wait… what time is it?” you said, tapping your watch. “Oh. I need to head back to the lab.”

At this point, Miguel knew he had maybe fucked up big time, and went into full on panic mode.

“I’m sorry that I asked, I-”

You immediately shook your head. “Don’t worry. It’s fine! Thanks for letting me stay over.”

He rounded the countertop and walked up to you, desperate to fix whatever he had just broken.

“You can take the day off if you need.”

You smiled again, but he knew that this time it was genuine. “That’s exactly what I don’t need. Now that I’ve managed to get the chips to work, I need to get back and run some tests.”

He allowed himself to relax slightly. From this distance he could smell his shampoo on you, and it made his heart clench.

There you were again.

His hardworking sweet girl.

You gave his arm a light pat. “Thanks again, Miguel. Your bed is really comfortable,” you said, heading to the doorway while rummaging through your backpack. “Much more than mine.”

He’d have it in your apartment in a heartbeat, and he nearly offered, but chose silence.

“See you later!” you waved with a smile before taking another bite out of the apple, and disappearing beyond the sliding door.

That smile could break a man.

It had broken him long ago.

And now Miguel wanted to scream.

To break something.

Not only did he not get an answer from you, but now he was under the impression he had crossed a line he shouldn’t have by having asked you.

He stormed into his room, and paced hurriedly from one end to the other, trying to decide what to do next.

That was until your scent gripped his heightened senses again.

He glared at his bed.

Your scent lingered in the bedsheets and, as if on autopilot, he paced towards it and gripped one pillow, bringing it to his face.

The family rush of blood downwards was almost painful.

You had been in his bed, and he had lost count of the amount of times he had fantasised ravaging you in it.

He allowed his digital suit to dissolve, leaving him fully naked.

Miguel knew deep down that this was too desperate. Even for him.

But that didn’t stop him.

Instead, he got on top of the mattress, right above where you had slept, and positioned the pillow lower, until the underside of his cock was resting on the soft material.

You had left his shirt neatly folded on top of another pillow and he brought the fabric to his nose, breathing in your scent mixed with his.

His hips rolled once.

It was intoxicating, but he couldn’t stop himself from slowly dragging his cock up and down the pillow soaked in your scent, soon to become soaked in his precum.

His grunts were muffled by the fabric and he felt his fang tear through it.

He wasn’t going to last long.

This was too much.

With a few more snaps of his hips, and feeling more and more precum spill out, Miguel was a moaning mess.

How he wished you’d be right under him, taking all those thrusts deep inside, whimpering and sobbing as he filled you over and over again.

The thought of you struggling to take him for the first time was enough to push him over the edge, and more sounds of fabric being torn filled his ears.

He stilled as a guttural growl broke from his throat, strings of cum shooting out and seeping into the soft fabric below.

His breathing was still erratic by the time his fangs retracted.

Once he found the will to get up, he picked up the cum-drenched pillow and decided to throw it away.

The post-nut clarity hit him like a thousand bricks, as he cleaned up the mess, allowing his suit to cover his entire body once again.

If you weren’t going to tell him about Tom, then he knew just who to ask.

Jessica Drew.

Pulling out two orange screens in his livingroom, your file immediately coming up. He then tapped on his watch twice.

Jessica’s hologram popped up. “Morning, Miguel.”

“Busy?”

“Just headed out to brief my squad.”

“Who’s Tom?” he blurted out, positioning his wrist so that she could see your file on the screen.

“Oh.”

He scowled deeply. “What do you mean ‘oh’?”

Jess clicked her tongue. “I mean that I’m not surprised this is about her.”

“What?”

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Miguel O’Hara,” she said with a teasing smile. “You might be able to fool others — hell, even her —, but you can’t fool me.”

That was Jessica Drew. Perceptive as always. He wasn’t all that annoyed that she could read him that well. After all, he had recruited her for a reason.

“I’m just concerned about her,” he said, admitting defeat.

“I’m sure you are,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “But maybe you should be asking her, no?”

“I did, and she pushed the topic away.”

She shrugged. “Well, I don’t know of any Tom. That name never popped up while I was scouting her.”

He felt disappointment and frustration grip him tightly, and he began scrolling through your file, wishing he could have missed something.

“Look, I may head out to her dimension later today, and see what I can find,” she offered with a sigh.

“Thank you, Jess.”

“But Miguel…?”

His crimson eyes darted to the flickering hologram. “Yes?”

“If she doesn’t want to talk about it, there may be a chance you won’t like what I find out. If I find anything, that is.”

Point taken.

He was started to accept that the truth might be an inconvenience for him.

But he had to know. The frustration of not knowing was driving him crazy.

“Just do what you have to do.”

She nodded and the hologram faded.

The first time Miguel had been at to your place was to check up on you after almost an entire week of going without sleep.

You were stubborn. Even more than he had been in his younger days.

You’d go home, but continue working, so he had no choice but to restrict your access to the lab data from outside HQ. As expected, you weren’t happy, but finally took his advice and got some rest.

Now he was back, but for a different reason, and he could only hope things between you two hadn’t soured.

He had kept his distance throughout the rest of day, occasionally checking you through the cameras as the mic in your suit.

Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary.

But he had an uneasy feeling brewing inside him, so he had to make sure.

You had promptly let him in even though it was close to midnight, slightly confused as to the reason of him dropping by.

As he stepped in, he was met with a sight he hadn’t seen the last time he had visited: there were wires spread everywhere along the floor, mixed between card boxes and paper scattered across every possible surface he could set his eyes on.

“Sorry for the mess,” you giggled apologetically. “Wasn’t expecting visitors.”

Good.

But also… very workaholic of you.

You were dressed in just a shirt — seemingly wearing a bra, this time — and some sweatpants, with a pencil tucked behind your ear, as you paced in circles, glaring at your pad.

“Love what you did with the decoration,” Miguel mused, trying his best to strategically avoid stepping on anything. “Fire hazard aesthetic, is it?”

You paused to stare at him with a lighthearted chuckle. “Bingo!”

Your reaction made him feel more at ease. Perhaps he had read too much into things.

You were still acting like his sweet girl.

The table at the center had barely any room left, and he managed to find a vacant spot on a chair nearby. “May I sit?”

You were looking through a tube with five different wires running along it. “Oh… I was going to place this there.”

Miguel immediately moved away. “Right. Of course.”

Priorities of any scientist.

Flashing him your trademark grin, you moved around to rest the tube horizontally on the chair.

This place truly resembled his when he was first getting started with Nueva York. All the blueprints and planning and computers and screens.

Oddly enough, your apartment made him feel nostalgic.

“So, what’s up?” you said, before taking a sip of your water.

He ran a hand through his hair and heaved a deep sigh. “I wanted to apologise for earlier today.”

You blinked.

“That conversation… about Tom?”

“Oh!” you suddenly said as realisation hit you. “There’s nothing to apologise for, Miguel! It’s a non issue.”

Well. He begged to differ, actually. Whoever this Tom person was, it had already created a slight rift between you two, even if unintentionally.

And he wanted to fix that.

Miguel was a fixer.

“I just want to make sure that Tom isn’t going to become an issue. For you… or for us.”

He added that last part in an effort to compel you to talk about him, which stemmed from genuine concern. What if Tom was someone dangerous and that could put spider society at risk?

You waved your hand dismissively. “He won’t. Don’t worry.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling the urge to continue with the questions, but it had become clear you weren’t going to collaborate.

It didn’t matter.

He would have information on Tom soon enough, and then he’d decide whether he was an issue or not.

But then… “Are you two close?”

He mentally slapped himself for his impulse.

“Oh, yeah… I guess you could say that,” you said, dragging your finger along the screen in front of you. “But, really, there’s no point talking about it.”

But why?

So he was someone close to you… he had dreaded this possibility becoming true.

But maybe… maybe it was just some family member.

He began pacing around with arms crossed, glacing outside the window and into the night sky.

Deep down, he wanted you to know he was there for you, but he also wanted some answers.

He needed answers.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

At this, you slammed your palms on the table, a frown settling on your face. “Miguel! Drop it, please… it’s nothing.”

That was unexpected.

And so unlike you.

And it was enough to stop him in his tracks. “I’m just looking out for you.”

He was. Truly.

And for his relationship with you. A future one, hopefully.

Your features softened as your eyes met his, and he felt the sudden urge to close the gap between you two and pull you into an embrace.

But he chose to keep his distance, not wanting to seem overbearing.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you drawled out, rubbing your temples with both hands. “I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

He shook his head at once. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I’ve been too overloaded with work, which is my fault, I know,” you said, pacing nervously. “But… I just want to help.”

Miguel sighed. “And you are. You don’t need to constantly prove yourself. No one will think less of you for not figuring things out at first,” he continued, and he meant every single word. “There’s so much trial and error in our line of work. We should work hard, yes. But not to the point of exhaustion.”

You halted, glaring at him like he had just uttered something unthinkable.

Unexpectedly, you were the one to close the distance between you two with unsure steps.

Dropping both arms against his sides, Miguel watched in silence as you paced closer and closer, your face holding a hint of sadness that should be forbidden.

You should never have to feel sad.

“I know you care,” you said, you voice but a whisper. “And I’m really grateful for you.”

Miguel’s heart sped up, as you tilted your head to stare at him. “Can I hug you?”

How could he ever say no to you? He’d give you anything. Everything.

You just didn’t know that.

He was left baffled and could only nod, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressed your cheek to his chest.

For a man who was perceived as a genius and had built an entire city from the ground up, Miguel sure felt like a fish out of water. So out of his element. He hadn’t shared this level of closeness with anyone in years.

But slowly, he managed to place one hand to the back of your head while the other pulled you closer, in the hopes that you would find safety and comfort in his embrace.

“Thank you.”

A few hours ago, he was humping his pillow thinking of you, fully drunk in your scent. Now, something else filled him.

Anger.

Rage.

No… there was no doubt whoever this Tom individual was that he had left a mark on you. And he couldn’t stand seeing his sweet girl like this.

He had to find out what had happened and what he had done to his sweet girl.

He would find him and he would break him if he had to.

Your tears were wetting his suit, and he had to muster all his willpower not to bolt into your dimension in search of him.

The fingers on your back caressed you slowly, lulling you into a comfortable position.

“I’m here for you.”

He felt your arms tighten around him, and he heard a sob. “Can… can you sing something?”

“What?”

“It distracts me…”

He felt puzzled at first, but he did want to help you. “Uh… anything?”

You nodded with a sniffle.

“Okay… uh… the itsy bitsy spider craw-”

You broke into a laughter. “Seriously?”

He felt his lips turn into a warm smile, as he kept rubbing your back.

Slowly, you loosened your grip around him and tilted your head to stare at him, chin resting on his chest with a sweet smile.

It had worked.

“You have such pretty eyes,” you whispered.

On impulse, he brushed his thumb along your cheek, wiping away a few teardrops.

His eyes then fell to your lips as they parted slightly, and he brought the thumb to brush along them, enjoying the softness and how your breath came out in shallow pants.

His sweet girl…

How he really wanted to—

And then his watch stared beeping, cutting the moment short.

Of course.

You jolted and he bent his arm and glared, as spider-byte’s hologram emerged. “Boss, Jessica has found subject A on Earth-2848.”

Fuck.

You immediately tore from him, wiping away the remnants of your tears.

“My Earth? What happe-”

He quickly cut you off. “Send me the file.”

Margo glanced briefly at you. “Uploading the file, boss.”

Miguel immediately terminated contact, and the hologram dissolved. He was then met with your questioning face

“Is it an anomaly? Is everything okay?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “We are just tracking some unusual activity.”

He didn’t want to lie to you.

But you had left him no choice.

He had to know who Tom was.

For you.

“I’m taking care of it,” he tried to reassure again.

You didn’t seem all that convinced, but didn’t insist.

Instead, you took a few steps back, and he felt your warmth painfully leave him at once.

He could get used to it so easily.

Then, he glared down at the screen of his watch, waiting for the file to be ready.

“Hey, Miguel?”

79%

Almost there.

“Miguel?”

His gaze remained fixed. “Hmm?”

“Do you think you can unlock my suit settings?”

That made him snap his head to glare at you.

What?

You were holding your pad, extending it to him. “I’ve been getting this weird interference in my suit,” you sniffled, eyes still puffy from crying. “I wanted to troubleshoot, but it doesn’t let me access the settings.”

Of course not. He had made sure of that.

But something else began looming over him… “What kind of interference?”

You shrugged, tapping the screen. “Static, I think? I only hear it from time to time, though.”

Miguel’s heart instantly dropped, Lyla’s words of caution ringing inside his head: “You’re not the only tech savvy spider here.”

No, no, no…

“So… can you let me in?”

The mic.

Fuck.

Part 5

Masterlist

[raggedyflowers]

“Wrap me like a Christmas gift” 🎁

summary: op men reacting at you being… their christmas gif ?? you wrapped in a red ribbon ??? that’s it, that’s the post

character: Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Law x female reader

cw: 🔞 smut and fluff. oral sex (male and female receiving), penetrative sex — very misuse of ribbon 🎀

Zoro:

the strawhats decided to exchange the Christmas gifts on the desk of the Sunny

you were so happy unwrapping all your present, but even happier when you saw the reaction of your friends when they opened the gifs you made to them

only one persone was left without a gift from you

“Gonna give my gift for you later” you winked at Zoro

“Hope it’s gonna be the biggest bottle of sake” Zoro rolled his eyes

Later when you two were left alone, you smirked to him. “Wanna unwrap your gift now?”

He looked disinterested, but when you lose the knot of your dress and let him saw what you got under it…

or maybe… what you didn’t wear under them

only a red ribbon placed between your breast and a smile on your face

Zoro maybe did lose the capacity of speak

“Woman you’re gonna kill me” he shook his head walking toward you

“Before you die, don’t you wanna enjoy your gift?”

he did enjoyed your gift — all night long

“I — I can’t take it anymore” you mourned after the first two orgasms.

“I though you were my gift” he said to you, lifting his fece buried in your pussy. “Be a good girl and gimme another one on my tongue and then I maybe give you my cock — thing of it as my gift”

the bastard smirked before returning to licking your cunt enjoying his gift

Sanji:

almost everyone was already gone to bed

Sanji was left behind, cleaning the kitchen

“Pretty boy” you called him. “Do you wanna sneak a look at my gift?”

“Of course, love” he said. “Just let me finish here”

“But it’s getting cold” you whined

only in that moment Sanji turned back to your and his face reddened on the spot

He also got a nosebleed

“Y/n, love” he cried

you could only smirk at him, naked but for a apron and a red ribbon between your hair

“Is this your gift?”

“Only for you, pretty”

He walked near to you, kissing with passion and immediately slipping his tongue on your mouth

his hand traveled on your body, brushing against your nipples and making your shivering

“All of this just for me” he whispered to your ear “Am I the luckiest man alive?”

there wasn’t any doubts Sanji would’ve loved your gift

and he proved to you when he bended you on the kitchen table and fucked you against it

“So good for me” he said, voice filler with arousal. “My pretty girl giving me the best gift”

“Yes — yes, only for you” you repeated the mind fuzzy.

He kept pounding you from behind with a fast pace while keeping whispering loving nothings into your heard

“Too bad my gift for your was the same”

“Too bad — we should repeat this on our room”

Ace:

“Hey Hotshot, what gift do you want for Christmas?”

so, your boyfriend was the best… but he wasn’t really helpful in those situations

“I only want you” he said, kissing the top of your head

… really sweet, but you needed something more.

but then and idea come into your head

“Hotshot” you called him some nights later, when everybody was already sleeping after unwrapping their christmas present. “I actually have a gift for you”

Ace looked at you with curious eyes and a beautiful smile on his face

“Did you?” he asked exited

“Yes, but you have to take this off” you smirked pointing at your red and white dress

Ace was taken aback, but then smirked back at your and started to unbuttoning your dress

When he found the red ribbon wrapped around you where your underwear was supposed to be, you felt his hand become even more hotter then usual

“You said you only wanted me as a gift”

“Not what I meant — but so much better”

Maybe he didn’t asked for anything, but your gift was so much better of what he could’ve ever think

“Come on Babydoll, keep going” he said with his hands tightening on your hips while you rode his cock

“Ace ~ ” you moaned with shaking legs. “Can’t you just fuck me already?”

“I thought this was my gift” he said cupping both of your breast with his hands and playing with your nipples

“Okay Hotshot, enjoy this. But after that you’re gonna eat me”

“At your orders, Babydoll”

Law:

Law problem was that he couldn’t tell you what he wanted for dear life — especially in your newfound relationship

you could only try to guess what his desires were

and finding a gift for him had become an impossible mission

maybe what you planned was mundane, but it was the only thing you could’ve thought

“Traffy ~” you called him for the thousand time. “Come to bed already?”

“Just one minute, y/n-ya” he said to you for the tenth time

“If you come now, I’m gonna give you your gift early” you tried to convince him

“You bought me a present?” he asked you, lifting his face from his book for the first time

“Well” you smirked to him. “There is a red ribbon attacked to it… but the ribbon happened to be down there”

When you pointed at yourself his face blushed, even if he tried to hide it under his hat

“I thought it was a gift you wanted to unwrap in private”

He did unwrapped his gift in private, in your shared room, enjoying every second of it

“Traffy — Law, please” you begging him, crying on his fingers insieme of you.

“My baby is so impatient, even if it was my gift”

“Sorry Traffy, I want — want ” you sobbed when his fingers curled inside of you hitting your g spot.

“Tell me, baby, what do you want?”

“You” you moaned. “I want you”

“Where do you want me?” he lowered toward you, kissing you more sweetly compared to his rude movements.

“Inside” you could only say on his lips before kissing him with so much force and desperation.

“Alright” he said. “But you’re being a little selfish, it’s still my gift after all... will you let me fuck you all I want tonight?”

“Yes — fuck, yes. Use me all you want” you said back, only wanting his dick inside you and his lips on your body

“Always so good with me” he caressed his cheek. “Now let me hear how pretty you scream my name”.

[yikimiki]

>> bones and ashes

⚔️ sukuna x fem!reader | warnings for: violence, mentions of death, possessiveness (sukuna is as evil as they come so basically every red flag under the sun), non-con that turns into dub-con (Stockholm syndrome), mentions of virginity loss, anatomically impossible size difference (if u know what I mean), blood play, etc | around 5-6k words | also important to note that I absolutely assassinated the canon lore in some points but bare with me

Sukuna doesn’t really have the ability to love. But he thinks he gets close enough when it comes to you. Of course, in his own twisted, macabre way.

Sukuna isn’t familiar to the concept of fondness, let alone anything more profound or meaningful than that. He knows want, desire, possession, curiosity even. But none of those feelings have ever tilted towards the side of affection, nor does he want them to. They’re all narcissistic pulses that keep pushing him forward — towards more power, more control, more of what he can become. He’s not even fond of his own abilities. Arrogant? Perhaps, but not fond. He can’t be fond of something he knows is not at its peak yet, that would just be weakness.

And Sukuna is everything but weak.

He sees you in a cold winter morning and he does what he knows best: he takes. Takes your pride, your virginity, your blood. Takes you like he took the lives of the rest of your village, paints your skin red and watches as the tears wash it away. Sukuna takes and takes until you have nothing left to give, just like he has done countless times before and yet… this time, something switches.

This time, he decides to let you live. Trapped in a dark cell, of course, but alive regardless.

The days move slowly, and you learn to mark their passing by the loud, clanking sound of a metal dish being thrown through a cracked door. The food is mostly raw meet and, after a few days of disgust, you cave in and eat a little of it. Not enough to be satisfied, not even close, but enough to keep you alive for at least a few hours longer.

Sukuna comes by in irregular intervals, and you soon give up on trying to find a pattern in his visits. You know it’s him from the way the door creaks open even further to accommodate his size, and you watch as his large shadow observes your movements for a moment before he kicks the disgusting plate towards you. Most of time time he’s there, you force yourself to eat, afraid of what should come if you turn down his unspoken commands. Once he seems satisfied, he exits without a word.

There is one single advantage in being in a windowless, isolated cell: you can’t hear what goes on up there. You’ve heard enough the day that Sukuna came to your village — the shattering screams, the pleads for mercy, the babies crying, the sound of wood and bone breaking almost too similar to differentiate. You saw creatures beyond your realm and heard awful whispers and threats; held you family as they died and gave up as the snow beneath your hands became as red as the burning sky above. And you know enough about Sukuna’s legend to be aware that it wasn’t an isolated incident.

When evil incarnate arrives, there’s not much you can do but surrender.

Though, when it comes to the legends, you thought that his palace was more of a manner of speak than an actual location. Once again, though, you’ve heard enough legends to know when to stop inquiring about the details.

Sukuna comes in after a week with a plan and a cloud of amusement over his head — frankly, given the state you were in, he thought you would be dead by now. Your stubborn hold on life is as impressive as it is pathetic.

“You looked so small when I first saw you,” his thunderous voice breaks the silence. There’s no food in his hands this time, only the fire cracking behind his form. You’re sitting down on the cold floor, back against the wall, and you don’t even bother looking up at him. “You look even smaller now.”

You don’t answer, because you don’t know what to say. Of course you’re smaller — you’re weak, starving, lacking movement and sunlight. Every muscle in your body aches and the aftertaste of dried blood never leaves your mouth. Smaller is a compliment; you wish you were just bones and ashes by now.

Sukuna takes a heavy step inside the dark chamber. “I killed everyone you’ve ever loved that day,” he says, bluntly. There’s no amusement nor sorrow in his tone — it’s a neutral statement. He lowers himself to your level and, on the corner of your eyes, you see his four arms. He is so wrong, even in a physical sense. Like the scar of something that shouldn’t even exist. “And yet… you live. Do you want to know why?”

You sneer. “I wish you’d just let me die.”

He chuckles, and one hand meets the side of your head. His fingers dig into the dirty, messy strings and pulls on the roots. There are tears on the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let him see them. “That’s exactly why you’re alive,” he says. “I knew you were ready to die when I saw you — all bloodied up, on your knees in the snow. It was quite a sight.” Sukuna’s voice is a malicious whisper as he comes even closer to you — he smells rotten. The tongue that licks up your cheek makes you want to puke. He tastes you the same way as he did on the first day, and you have no idea what he’s searching for. “Tell me, why were you so ready to give yourself to me? Most try to plead at least.”

“Plead for what? Your mercy?” The sarcasm is clear through your tone. The words you mean to say are knotted in the base of your throat and the odor Sukuna reeks is making you dizzy; making you remember everything that came before this. “I— I didn’t have anything else to live for,” you stutter. “You killed… you killed my mother, my father, my baby brother… why would I want to live without them? Why would I humiliate myself asking for mercy from a creature that clearly doesn’t have any to spare?”

Through anger, you look up at him. His eyes are flames bursting through the darkness, and they shine as your words settle on his skin. “Do you only live for love, my little dove?” He asks. “What a purposeless life you have.”

“Do you only live for hate?” You ask back before you can hold your tongue. Somewhere in your mind, you know that he’s capable of unimaginable evil, but you are beyond the point of caution. “What a purposeless legacy you’re leaving behind.”

This angers him. The corners of his mouth twists as he speaks. “You people fear me. Even the strongest of sorcerers doesn’t dare to go against me.”

“I pity you and your ridiculous need for destroying what isn’t yours,” you spit. “And I hate you for keeping me alive. I hate you for everything you’ve done to me and to the people I love. And I hate that you even dare to come here and talk to me like I’m the smaller person for daring to care about something.”

The hands on your hair tighten and he pulls your face against his. Sukuna’s forehead is a furnace against yours, his eyes burn into your soul. “You little insect, I could kill you with a snap of my fingers if I wanted to.”

Your voice shakes but you say it regardless: “Do it, then, what are you waiting for?”

“No,” his answer is more cruel than death could ever be. And he knows that. “And you know why?”

“If you are keeping me alive to have your way with me, so be it, have it,” you say. The tears are obvious now. You wonder if he can smell how fearful you really are. “Violate me like you did before, I don’t care anymore, but just don’t keep me alive just to waste me away.”

His lips are touching yours now, but you can’t pull away even if you tried. Sukuna’s chest is heaving like he’s in the middle of a battle, his voice like a roar in your ears. “Then ask. For. My Mercy.”

“I w-would n-never…”

“Ask!” It’s a loud command that crashes against you like a wave. You sink like there is no adrenaline in your body to keep you afloat; the anger that moved you before is no longer within your reach.

The truth is clear: you’re human. He’s a curse — the king of curses, older than you could ever imagine; probably even more powerful than the legends you’ve heard. His eyes say that there are fates worse than death and you believe them. And maybe, just maybe, if you play by his rules, he’ll grow tired of you and let you wither away.

“P-Please,” you are sobbing now, tears falling down like a cascade. Sukuna licks them and hums in satisfaction, watching as you break apart into a mountain of hiccups and trembling limbs. “Please just… have mercy on me. I’ll do whatever you want just — please, stop torturing me like this.”

“Aw,” he coos. “Was that so hard?”

You want to say that yes, somehow, that took everything still left in you. You want to say that if he wanted to break your spirit, congratulations, he’s done it. But you don’t get the chance.

Sukuna kisses you with the same ferocity you expected, sharp teeth crashing against yours and tongue exploring your mouth with no prior warning. He groans as he tastes you — you, the blood in your food, the salt of your tears — and suddenly it’s all that he will ever crave again. You whimper against his lips as his two lower arms crawl up your thighs and hold onto your hips, pushing you against him as he stands up and presses you against the wall. You feel more caged now than you have felt these past few days.

“Silly little human,” he raps against your lips, then licks your cheek for more of your precious tears. He realizes how much he likes to make you cry. You wince and give out a little sob, which only makes him smile. Finally, his grip on your hair loosens. “What is my name?”

You blink, dumbfounded by the sudden question. “S-Sukuna…?”

He pouts. “Say it like you mean it or I won’t be so nice.”

“Sukuna,” you say more firmly this time.

“There we go, that’s a good girl,” he says. “See how things just work better when you don’t misbehave? Hm?”

You nod. He doesn’t like it. “Y-Yes, I see, I’m sorry.”

“Very good.” The hand that was on your hair moves to hold your face, and it’s so huge that you feel like it would crush your skull with one single movement. As the other two arms hold onto your thighs, the fourth limb squeezes your breast. “Now, this is what’s going to happen, my pretty little human,” Sukuna starts, “I will have my servants take you to my chambers. You will be washed, clothed, and taken care of. They will feed you proper human food this time, whichever it is that your heart desires. How does that sound?”

Sounds like a trap. “And, in return, what do I have to do for you?”

“What do I have to do for you…?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Sukuna,” you complete.

“There’s my perfect little girl,” he says. You hate that something inside you likes the praise. “You will have to wait for me there. Do whatever you prefer, but don’t leave my room. Any attempt at escaping or killing yourself will be futile, and I’ve already warned every single curse that your death will result in a much more dire future for them. So you will be brought back to me. And I promise I won’t be so nice.”

“I understand… Sukuna,” you correct yourself quickly. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

The hand on your breast squeezes tighter, and you bite your lip so you don’t complain. “I knew I was right when I brought you here, something made me spare you. Yet, I don’t know what it is just yet.”

Sukuna is a looming threat above you, his limbs trapping you, and his deep voice is like thunder about to break. You know why so many fear him — you fear him too. And the sooner you act like it, the sooner he’ll grow tired of you. Sooner he’ll realize he was wrong in bringing you into his fortress.

He smirks. “But I believe I’ll discover soon enough.”

- ⚔️ -

Sukuna’s chambers are as spacious and monstrous as himself — corners switching and adjusting like breathing flesh; furniture morphing into different shapes; the weird odor of something old; the feeling for something lurking. The large windows show a world between worlds; a reality that doesn’t seem right no matter how long you stare at it. His palace is in a dimension you can’t reach, and you give up on trying to understand it. If anything, the more you wonder about it, the more you shake under the weight of the sheer power it must take to keep it all existing like solid matter.

Your passage of time is morphed and unreliable, but you would guess that a couple weeks have passed by the time that you come to terms that, perhaps, Sukuna isn’t as easy to bore as you first expected. The fire in his eyes doesn’t seem to diminish as he sees you — if anything, his eagerness to have you all to himself only seems to expand — and the way he takes care of you makes you realize that he isn’t planning on letting you die anytime soon.

Life in his chambers is far more comfortable, you admit, but it’s a prison nonetheless. Still, you can’t say that you are mistreated. In his chambers, you are bathed and clothed, well-fed and pampered. You soon come back to your normal weight and the fatigue leaves your body; there is more space to move, more things to do. The curses that come to check on you seem to be strangely kind and human-like, though you know it’s out of fear and not out of worry, and they keep your mind occupied with several stories and legends as the days move on.

Sukuna is more absent than you would have imagined, conquering and killing as often as he can. When he finally comes to you he is clean, recently bathed, but you can still see he is fresh from a battle, some mindless corruption beyond the horizon that you would rather hear nothing about. There are shallow scars and deep cuts that heal unreasonably quickly; dried blood that hasn’t quite washed away and ashes beneath his fingernails.

You ask whose village he has attacked this time, but he says it doesn’t matter, because there are no survivors.

“I never leave any survivors,” he completes, kissing your forehead, “besides you, my little human.”

You don’t push beyond that information, but the feeling of being special, chosen, starts to blossom like a dangerous rose inside your chest. It stings and stings, but grows regardless, and you see yourself less able to fight against his possessive claims. You start to enjoy them. You start to wonder if life beyond those walls is worth fighting for when you seem to have everything you would ever wish for right here.

You can always tell when Sukuna is about to arrive in this world because the atmosphere switches into something darker, heavier. The air seems thicker and the clouds beyond your windows start to bleed into a deep shade of red. Sukuna returns with the apocalypse on his back, and, when he does, he uses your body as he pleases.

Like the room around you, there is constant change. Sometimes it hurts like hell; sometimes it’s pleasurable. Sometimes you wish it would just end and you end up crying in despair; sometimes you look at him like you might get used to feeling him inside of you. Some days, Sukuna is kinder, more patient, taking time to adjust you to his enormous size and even makes sure that you enjoy it before reaching his end; fucking you full of his cum until you can’t think of one single thing besides him. Other days, you know he is angry just by the way he walks through the door — and, in those days, you are left bleeding and bruised as he uses your body in every single way until he’s close enough to satisfied. That, on itself, can take a long, long time.

You realize that, during those violent days, he could use one of his curses to please himself, but he prefers to use you — because you bleed, you cry, and you suffer. As long as your pain exists, his interest is unwavering.

However, like everything else, you adapt, get used to it. Routine becomes familiar and you learn the tell-tale signs of his rancid mood; learn how to make it a little better and what things to avoid. You stop thinking about getting away — you don’t even have anywhere else to go — and start longing for his presence as he takes more time to come back home. Sukuna is warm, safe; next to him you know you are shielded from any harm. When he appears, no one dares to look or touch you, no one speaks until they are spoken to. Just by being in his gravitational pull, you are protected and no harm will ever come your way again.

Even if it hurts, you start hoping that he won’t get tired of you.

Sukuna, on the other hand, isn’t quite sure how he feels about it all.

It’s not love — he has gone over that one a few hundred times already, has marked off every possible scenario and imagined every possible feeling, and he is sure it isn’t love. To be frank, he doesn’t even think he’s capable of it even if he wanted to, he sold his soul too long ago to even remember how normal humans love. But if it’s not love, it’s something similar — a kind of tenderness, fondness. He has a soft spot for you, to put it bluntly. Though not in the typical sense.

Sukuna adores you like a painter adores his favorite canvas; like an exotic bird in a cage — he adores you with possession, obsession, with the knowledge that you can’t ever get away from his grip. He is fond of you in a way that he would murder anyone who would even dare to touch what is his; but would never set you free. He can hurt you, he can tear you into pieces and build you to his liking. Sukuna can kiss you or bite you; hug or break you, but it’s because you’re his little pet and no one else’s.

He is fond of the way you bend for him; the way you look at him with sheer adoration in your eyes even after he has taken everything from you. He is fond of the way that only he could kill you; that your small life is in his hands and you thank him for it. Sukuna is fond of the way your tight little cunt stretches so wide to take his fat cock; lives for the little whimpers you give out and the tears that stain his satin sheets when he finally allows you to cum for him. If he could crawl inside your soul, he would. If he could take it and eat it and have you forever, he would.

He doesn’t know why he craves you so much, but he knows that nothing else gives him the same high anymore.

So he keeps you.

It’s a heavy stormy night when he comes back the next time, and his room is only illuminated by a few candles and the lightening from outside. You’re in his large bed, looking as small as that day in the snow, and there is a touch of worry in your eyes that he doesn’t miss. But he ignores it.

“Undress,” he commands.

You rush to do as he says, throwing the faint fabric over your head. It falls to the ground as Sukuna walks towards the bed, his massive weight making it dip under his knee as he leans closer to you.

“My pretty little doll,” Sukuna muses. “Missed me?”

He always asks that. And your answer is always the same.

“So much, Sukuna.”

It’s more honest every time.

He hums, satisfied, and smirks as he pushes your hair away from your face. “I have something to tell you, and I think you will like it,” Sukuna says. You look at him with wide eyes as he settles over you, his four arms caging your body as you lay down. The mouth on his stomach open and closes, a large tongue coming out before it vanishes again — it always does it when he’s particularly excited. “Would you like to know what it is?”

You know he will tell you regardless. Like all the tales of his battles, he lives for the glimpse of horror in the back of your eyes. “Yes, Sukuna.”

“Seems like you are famous now,” he starts. You furrow your eyebrows. “Sorcerers are trying to save you. The poor little human girl that Sukuna took as a prisoner months ago.” He kisses your neck, then licks the skin. You shiver — months, it has been months then. “Two of them tried to enter my domain today, stupid little insects,” he continues. Another hand lands on your exposed breast, playing with your nipple. “You have no idea how enraged that made me, my little human. To have someone try to take you away from me; to try and to enter my domain and take you from me.”

His voice turns into a growl by the end of the sentence, and you feel the familiar pulse of terror running through your veins. He’s in a bad mood, that’s obvious, but there’s something hiding beneath that as well.

“What did you do to them?” You ask. “Did they get in?”

Sukuna chuckles darkly, and the hand that was on your breast now settles on your clit, massaging it softly. “I took care of them, my sweet thing, of course,” he says. Your breath hitches at the slow pleasure of his movements, and your eyes flutter shut. “No one will ever take you from me.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” you say without a thought. In your heart, you feel it’s wrong. But without him, you have nothing. “I’m yours forever, Sukuna.”

“I know you are,” he answers.

Sukuna holds you by the throat as he kisses you — not enough to suffocate you, but enough to make you a little dizzy. Your eyes cross mindlessly as his tongue invades your mouth; a deep groan coming from his chest as he tastes your lips. He always kisses you violently, possessively, like he wishes to suck your soul out of your chest. Beneath his size you can only shrink and hold onto his large biceps, the wetness between your legs growing as he takes what is his.

He pulls back, ignoring the string of saliva that connects you two. “Pretty little thing,” he muses, shoving his middle finger inside your mouth. “Suck for me.”

You do as he says and he smirks at the feeling of your pretty lips around his large finger. Soon enough, the same digit is invading your pussy, curling up so quickly that you see starts at your peripheral vision.

“Relax or it’ll hurt again,” he says — not like he cares about it. “I want you to remember tonight.”

“W-Why?”

“Because I’ll make sure that you’ll be mine forever,” he says, a devilish smile on the corners of his lips. “So no one can take you from me. No one would even try.”

Your breath is getting heavier, and you don’t even register what he’s telling you — he could do a billion things to you and you’d still let him. The time spent only in his company made your resolution vanish, and you became exactly what he wanted you to: another possession for him to do as he pleases. Because of him, you have nothing else. Besides him, you have nothing.

“You’re not cumming around my finger tonight,” he says and quickly removes his hand from your cunt. You whine at the sudden emptiness, walls spasming around nothing, but you know better than to protest. “It’s going to be around my cock, you got it?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you say.

“Good girl,” he muses. His lower arms move to undo his pants as his mouth attacks yours once again. His sharp teeth drain blood from your lips and he groans at the metallic taste; drinks the little sob of pain you let out. “You’re all fucking mine. Forever,” he growls, “I’ll make you live forever with me.”

Months ago, that would be torture. But now, “It sounds like heaven, Sukuna,” you say. “I love you.”

Your vision falls to where his hands are working. His cock is massive, bigger than your forearm, balls swinging out of his shorts and falling heavy under his shaft. Your entire body tingles in anticipation as he strokes himself, aligning his cockhead with your opening. “Tiny fucking cunt,” he curses, rubbing it against your soaked folds. “I’ll train you to take my cock even better than now, kitten.” Your mouth falls open as he starts to push in and it hurts — no matter how many times you’ve taken him, it always burns. “Way too fucking tight for my fat cock, you know that?”

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll do better-“

He chuckles. “I fucking love it.”

In one strong motion, he shoves himself as deep as he can, pressing against your cervix as you whine at his size. It isn’t fair — it’s so thick you can’t even breathe, you can feel him in your stomach, pressing and pulsing until you can’t think of anything but the sheer size of his massive cock inside your poor little hole. Your walls hurt to accommodate his girth, stretching as far as they can, but it never seems like it’s enough.

“It’s t-too big, Sukuna,” you whine. And it is. You know he must be doing something to your body so you can even be alive right now, because it’s not humanly possible to take such a big cock. “I c-can’t…”

His hand lands on your head and pulls at the roots. “You are my special little human, my obedient little girl,” he reminds you. His cock throbs inside you and you whimper, the small movement alone makes you drool. “You will do anything I tell you to do.”

You nod. “Y-Yes.”

“So when I tell you to take it….” He rolls his hips even deeper and you call his name so loud that you’re sure the entire world will hear it. “You’ll fucking take it.”

You don’t even have the ability to answer as he starts to pound deep inside your soaked cunt, hard and violent, as he is. Your vision is blurry with tears as you look down to see his massive cock bullying itself again and again inside your cunt, taking everything you have to give.

“Look at me when I claim you,” Sukuna warns and you do it instantly. Your legs wrap around his hips and he squeezes your ass so hard it will bruise. There’s a malicious glint in his red eyes that never quite goes away, no matter how much he tries, and now it’s deadset on you. “My precious little girl,” he calls, voice strained with pleasure. You can tell from the way his cock throbs that he is close, but it doesn’t matter. He just keeps going. “You told me you love me. Do you only live for love, kitten?”

“I live f-for loving you, S-Sukuna,” you respond automatically. “I live for you.”

Sukuna groans like an animal — he adores what a stupid little fuckdoll he has turned you into. He can never get tired of this; he can never let it get away. “You’ll die for me, kitten?”

You nod so quickly you get dizzy. “Yes, a-anything… I’m yours f-forever.”

He calls your name like he has never done before, a little insane, a little sweet. If the sheer size of Sukuna’s genitals aren’t anything to go by, he cums a lot — it oozes out of your cunt before he’s even halfway through, cock throbbing and leaking again and again until you’re filled to the brim. His huge balls smack against your ass as he continues to bully himself inside you, a little more desperate now, intoxicated by his own pleasure.

There’s no rest, there never is. He only takes and takes.

“I’ll make you mine,” he groans.

“I’m yours, Sukuna, I’m yours…” you repeat like a broken record, half-aware of your own voice through the loud moans and hiccups. You watch in ecstasy as he uses one of his sharp nails to cut the palm of his hand, blood oozing out of it and dropping on your breasts. It’s like you know what he will say even before he says it. “You want me t-to-“

“Drink it.”

Perhaps you should be scared, but you’re not. Your mouth opens without a second thought and he presses his large palm on your lips, muffling your moans and allowing the hot dark liquid to invade your tongue. Sukuna’s blood is thick and it tastes like poison, but you do as he says, liking his flesh and drinking it until he seems satisfied and takes his hand away.

It strikes your body like an arrow, straight through your chest and expanding like deep roots. You feel as his blood burns your insides, changing something in your very existence. It’s hard to think through the sensations — the pleasure building up, the venom running through your veins, the mixture of devotion and fear that dances inside your mind. Your vision is double, black around the edges, and you think you might be cumming but you’re not sure you can even feel your body anymore. Sukuna’s voice echoes muffled in the background, and you can see his mouth moving in slow motion, but you don’t understand his words. You think you are crying. You think you can’t breathe. You think you are dying and being born at the same time and you don’t know why you feel so grateful for it all.

Your lungs are on fire and your throat is dry. You try to speak, but can’t. You have the vague flashback of the time your uncle made you drink alcohol, it burns just the same, but this time, no one is laughing. This time, you’re dying.

“… at me.”

This time, Sukuna’s voice rings sharp and clear. You stare at him, confused, as the flames inside your chest slowly subside.

“Keep looking at me,” he repeats, commanding.

You try to nod, but your head doesn’t move. You can’t see the room around you anymore. “H-Hurts,” you manage to get out.

“I know,” he says, and there’s a touch of softness in his voice you don’t ignore. “Focus on me. I’ll make it feel better.”

And that’s what you try to do, even if your soul seems to be floating miles above your body. You look down at where he is still moving in and out of you, at the white-coated mess that drips from your hole and soaks your inner thighs. It doesn’t seem to hurt as badly now, like your body is changing to accommodate him even better — in fact, it feels like heaven.

You look up at him, dumbfounded. “I t-think I’m going to cum, Sukuna,” the words come easier now, and you feel like you can move again. Though, it still feels like a dream. “It’s so g-good.”

“Cum on my fat cock, then, make me proud,” he coos. You close your eyes and nod, trying to focus on the paradise that blooms between your legs. You feel every ridge and vein of his massive cock; hear the lewd squelching sounds of his cum leaking out of you. It comes to you faster than you would have imagined, washing through your body like a wave as you cry and shake miserably. “That’s my girl, fuck, there we go, that’s my perfect little girl.”

The spasming of your walls manages to milk more cum out of him and he groans loudly as he releases inside you once more. Sukuna cums so much it makes you breathless, filling you again and again until he’s satisfied and the sheets beneath you have no salvation left.

“There we go, take everything,” he says in a strained groan, “every fucking drop inside this tight fucking cunt.”

Sukuna looks absolutely insane above you — fucking his cock so hard into you that it seems like he will never have the chance again; eyes blown wide and his teeth clenched. You cum again, this time a little softer, as you feel his thick cock shoot a specially large amount of cum inside your pussy, and wait until he’s done using your body.

Eventually, he settles, pressing his forehead against yours and looking deep inside your eyes. The redness in them is shining like flames, watching every movement of your face.

“Feels weird,” you say. “I feel dizzy.”

He chuckles and removes himself from you. Another white-hot wave gushes out of your cunt, and he sits back to watch it drip. “There we go, it wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You swallow, your tongue is still numb inside your mouth. “It was horrible, Sukuna. I felt like I was going to die.”

Sukuna smiles and uses two fingers to push some of his cum back inside you. “I can promise you it was better than when I did,” he says, and you’re confused for a moment. “But now we don’t have anything to worry about anymore, my sweet thing. Those pathetic little sorcerers won’t want you.”

“H-How are you so sure?” You ask.

“Aw, my sweet, stupid little girl.” He pouts, condescending as always. “No one will want to save a curse now.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you…?”

“I told you.” Sukuna licks his own blood at the corner of your mouth. “You are mine forever.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request batboys learn of reader's fake death, she is on a mission and they find her.

Reader can be read as gn or whoever you see fit.

Dick

‘Is that you?’ Dick asks softly as he neared you.

‘No.’ You replied in hopes that he’d leave but you knew deep down that he wouldn’t, not if leaving meant leaving you behind also. Not the way you chose to erase yourself out of the picture for this stupid suicide mission.

Dick on the other hand was hellbent to not loose you again, the house you both built wasn’t a home if you weren’t in it to share it with him and Hayley, the poor dog was still fast sleeping on your side of the bed before Dick left for his nightly patrol; Hayley missed you very much and would whimper when she realises that your scent was slowly fading away.

It hurt Dick more then he liked to admit, and he tried to suppress it for as long as he could but he would often find himself trying to look for you in other people, other things but it always ended with him looking at the pictures of the two of you on the wall and feeling nothing but cold. Everything felt out of place without you but Dick would always try to act as though he was coping better then he was behind closed doors doors, clutching at the clothes you’ll never wear again as he silently sobs into the fabric.

Now here you were stood before him in what people would call as pure coincidence or luck because anyone would give anything to see their lost ones again, absolutely anything, even if it was by morally questionable means and Dick can understand the reason why that might be.

‘I- I wish I could tell you but I can’t.’ You replied, not wanting to put Dick in danger because of the dangerous people you’ve wronged.

‘Why not?’ Dick asked, worried that something had happened when he wasn’t nearby to help.

‘It doesn’t concern you.’ You told him as you tried to make distance but Dick was quick to close it. ‘It does concern me if it involves you.’ He says lowly, gently reaching out to hold your face to make sure this was real and not a dream and when you leaned into his touch, eyes closed shut Dick lets out a relieved sigh as his thumbs stroke your cheeks. ‘So please, don’t make me loose you again. let me help.’ He whispered, resting his forehead against yours.

Now you really couldn’t reject his help, he made it impossible just like how he made it impossible for you not to fall in love with him all over again.

Tim

Didn’t know what to expect from what he was seeing.

He had heard that there was someone of your stature going about town during the night but he wasn’t one to believe it until he’s seen it with his own eyes. So when he did catch of glimpse of you or someone pretending to be you, he didn’t know what to do, he was brought back to where he was when he found out about your supposed death; helpless and confused as to how such a thing could happen.

It wasn’t until your eyes met his did Tim feel his blood go cold from how dull and borderline dead your eyes looked when glaring right at him. There was a flash of familiarity but that was gone before Tim could blink, something was wrong, very wrong but he didn’t know what exactly.

You weren’t…well you.

Now Tim did have dreams about what he’d do if you were to be magically reanimated, brought back to life but those were dreams for a reason, a alternative reality that didn’t abide to realism or the more likeliest of outcomes; this was reality and reality wasn’t pretty and is often disappointing on most accounts.

So Tim stood there, frozen as you made a quick exit, much to the confusion of his siblings -Dick and Damian- who knew how hard your death had struck Tim, they didn’t need to be told how difficult it must’ve been to see your dead partner somehow alive again.

‘Are you okay?’ Dick asks.

‘Somethings wrong.’ Tim said. ‘Why would they feel the need to fake their own death and not tell me about it beforehand?’ He asks himself.

‘Only if someone powerful wanted you dead.’ Damian suggested. ‘What other reason is there besides that one?’

‘If that’s truly is the case,’ Tim began as he looked between Dick and Damian, ‘then why reappear after only a week? It’d be common sense to stay low for far longer until the smoke clears, unless...’

Dick then places a hand on Tim’s shoulder. ‘Looks like we’ve got work to do.’

Tim wasn’t certain what he would do if you ever did come back, but now it seems as though he did know; to save you from whatever has been nipping at your heels.

Jason

Wasn’t sure whether or not the sleepless nights had finally caught up to him ever since your passing, spending them staring at the door to your shared bedroom as though you’d magically walk through it with a smile, telling him that everything that had happened was just a nightmare before kissing him on the forehead and cuddling into his side to fall asleep.

However Jason had pinched his skin that many times to know well enough that was all a fallacy created by his own mind because he didn’t want you seeing the man he’d become from whether afterlife you resided in.

So when he spotted sow thing he believes looked a lot like your silhouette, his body followed after it, much like it did whenever things pertaining to you sparked that sense of familiarity within him, that sense of home and belonging. However this lack of subtly on his end didn’t end up well as he was soon enough laid flat out on his back as your masked face hovered over his.

‘Why were you following me?’ You asked through gritted teeth.

‘I thought you were dead.’ He replied In disbelief.

‘That was the plan until you ruined it.’ You grunted as you pulled him up to his feet, ‘you weren’t followed were you?’ You asked as your eyes shifted from shadow to shadow.

‘No, listen sweetheart-‘ Jason tried to speak but you sharply shushed him. ‘What’s going on, you can tell me.’ He now whispers and you sigh, finding it hard to exist within the same space as Jason without hugging him to death, but you couldn’t risk dragging him into your troubles.

‘I can’t.’ You tell him, knowing that there was a heartbroken expression behind that red helmet of his, ‘and even if I can all I would be allowed to say is that some bad people are after me.’ Jason’s shoulders tensed at this.

‘Why did you say anything earlier.’ He asked, he was holding back from exploding because had this been brought up earlier then maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to be subjected to witnessing your ‘death.’ ‘I could’ve helped you out-‘

‘And risk you becoming their next target? Not thanks Jason I already lost you once I’m not doing it again.’ You tell him firmly but he wasn’t having it, not after what you put him through. ‘And I thought I lost you or has that not ever come to mind.’ He bites back with the sharpness of someone who was deeply hurt by the actions of someone who he loved more than life.

‘Jason.’ You tried to say but you knew him better then most, once his mind had been made up there was little chance to change it.

‘No. I’m going to help you get out of this mess, either you want me to or not, this is my war now.’ Jason tells you as he marched ahead. You sighed as you followed after him.

This was going to be a long night.

[coco-loco-nut]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

Pairing: None

Summary: Being a woman in F1 has it's challenges, especially when you are constantly seen as a threat

A/n: McLaren history revision, actually, a lot of it might not make complete logical sense, just ignore that. i’m not great at angst

requests open masterlist ttpd masterlist

_________

You've scared everyone in the F1 world since you started driving in 2014 for McLaren, more dominant than Max Verstappen, the only driver other than Lewis Hamilton to challenge you. Your aggressive driving style and ability to get the most out of your car has lead you to three championships. Men don’t like that.

You are in a bit of a slump this year after moving to Mercedes, not having won one of the first three races, but you are poised for attack, ready to take your place at the top.

“Daddy, who’s that?” you hear a little girl ask as you walk to the paddock.

“Y/n L/n, we don’t like her,” his fragile masculinity practically yells the comment into your ears. With a smirk you look at the pair, walking over and bending to the little girls level.

“What’s your name?” you ask, your voice bordering on being sickly sweet.

“Sarah,” she squeaks, eyes wide with fascination. You remove your team hat and pull out a sharpie from your pocket, signing your hat.

“Don’t let any man tell you you can’t be better than the boys. You can do anything, you’re a girl,” you smile, putting the hat on her head. You wave over your assistant. “Get her sizes and buy her some team gear, charge it to me,” you tell the assistant, who eagerly nods. Of course, the F1 social team caught the incident and posted it.

“Y/n! How does it feel to be in a slump, as some are calling it? Some fans are even calling you washed. Quite sad isn’t it,” one reporter asks.

“You guys keep saying I am in a slump, or I’m being replaced by younger drivers. My bare hands paved their paths, you don’t get to tell me about sad. If you wanted my career to be dead so bad, you should’ve just said so,” you roll your eyes. Nothing makes you feel more alive than driving, but annoying the media is a close second.

“What about your move to Mercedes next year? Why switch?” another reporter asks. Couldn’t you just get to your motorhome without being hounded by reporters for once?

“It was a mutual decision, it was time for us to part,” you walk away, reflecting on the last few months.

You hadn’t planned your exit from McLaren to Mercedes, the scandal regarding your exit being contained by NDAs. You had punched one of the engineers who made a sexist joke at your expense. You promptly decided you didn’t want to be there anymore, especially when they didn’t fire the engineer.

“I feel bad that this is how it has to happen,” Zak said at the end of last season.

“You don’t get to tell me you feel bad, if you actually did he would’ve been fired and I wouldn’t have to leave,” You told him, visibly upset.

“It was one joke and he was reprimanded. You don’t have to leave,” Zak says, you sharply inhale.

“It wasn’t one joke. It had been ongoing for years, it’s a wonder it took me this long to break. What did you want me to do? Laugh until I cry?” you asked Zak, who seemed shocked.

“Then I truly am sorry, I’ll launch an investigation to see why it wasn’t reported to me before. You will have always have a friend here,” Zak tells you, a small comfort.

“Thank you,” you give him a small smile. You spend the whole offseason steeling yourself and working to be the best driver you can be. You stayed longer at the gym and sent more time on the sim.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Daniel asked one day over a glass of wine, he’s known you since you both were karting, and he’s watched you spiral the past few years. Daniel is your best, and one your few friends.

“It’s so hard being a woman in F1. I am a completely different person than I was before I joined,” Daniel doesn’t comment, he knows you felt like a caged animal so you acted like one.

“Why did you leave McLaren?” Daniel asks, knowing you wouldn’t leave unless there was a good reason.

“I signed an NDA, so you can’t share any of this. After I started at McLaren, an engineer was hired who would say sexist remarks all the time. Over time I stopped being nice and just got mean back, and I finally snapped. I gave him a nice right hook to his face,” you sip the wine, giving the shortened version. “Zak didn’t know, no one had reported the engineers behavior, so we signed NDAs and I left.”

“I’m sorry, That plus the media circus of being a woman in F1 can’t be easy,” Daniel sympathizes.

“That’s why I forced myself to be like this. If I can make myself seem untouchable, it doesn’t hurt as much. Being the villain is easier,” you tell him.

“So how will you approach Mercedes?” Daniel keeps you talking, knowing you need a good trauma dump.

“Lay low for the first couple weeks, let the drivers think they took out my claws, hung me to dry. It won’t be enough to ruin my season, but enough to catch them off guard. During the fourth or fifth race, I’ll leap from my gallows and crash their party, exposing the sexism within Formula One,” you smirk.

“The old ‘who’s afraid of little old me’ tactic,” he smiles, enjoying your plan.

“They should be afraid,” you say, explaining your interview with Suzie that is going to break the internet, after all, the NDA only kept you from talking about the punch.

Just like you predicted, the media and fans were divided. Some called for a public apology from McLaren and the FIA for the treatment of female drivers, most called you over dramatic, and said you only wanted to attention to distract from your poor performance and waning stardom. They said not everything is about you and the people who hurt you didn’t do it to hurt you.

You wanted nothing more than to argue back and show the media and fans just how disturbed they had made you, but Toto told you to let your driving do the talking. That race you said one thing to the media, “you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.”

“Chills, your interview was phenomenal. Thanks for citing me as one of your biggest supporters by the way. Scooch over, let’s see what insecure men are tweeting,” Daniel hands you a glass of wine and sits beside you on your couch, air playing his phone screen.

“I like that one, I’m always drunk on my own tears,” you laugh. Daniel logged into his spam account, letting himself reply to the haters.

“I like this one. Y/n L/n is the kind of person to sue you for stepping on her lawn,” Daniel laughs.

“The reply is better: she’s fearsome, wretched, and most importantly, wrong,” you both think of a funny reply.

You show up to the track and win, and win, and win, until you are holding the trophy for your fourth world championship.

In your post-championship interview with the F1 media team, you make what may be your biggest announcement yet.

“In the wake of people calling me crazy after sharing my experiences as a woman in motorsport, I’d like to make a very special announcement. I am who I am because you trained me to be like this, so to make sure no other girl has to go through what I did, I will be sponsoring two F1 Academy drivers with added mentorship and sponsorship opportunities. I’ve seen the work that Susie Wolff has done, and I cannot wait to help grow the presence of women in motorsport,” you say, sitting beside Susie.

“We will make sure she doesn’t terrorize the girls too much,” she jokes at your request.

“Who’s afraid of little old me?”

[chosaya]

CIGARETTES AND COWBOYS !

{𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦} : 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘂𝗽 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗳’𝘀.

𝘄𝗰 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 2.6𝗸,𝗰𝗼𝘄𝗯𝗼𝘆 𝗮𝘂!, 𝘀𝗲𝗺𝗶 𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗰, 𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗹𝗮𝘄 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗳! 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗼, 𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗳! 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶, 𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝗽𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴, dry humping.

a/n: please don’t ask for a “part 2” nor make a continuation of this fic thank you. 🤎(have a love hate relationship with this) always thanks to hoshi and vegas for the helppp.

after another successful robbery of stealing cash from the town.

you sat at the saloon bar stool tracing around the rim of a glass of rum, which was half empty by now with ice melted at the bottom of the cup, posters were plastered around with your snarky grin for all the townsfolk to see, you, wanted "dead or alive reward for anyone who could catch you—keyword could be able to catch you.

your lips curled up into a smirk at the thought of some stupid bounty hunter chasing you down and bringing you to the jail, no sheriff or cowboy has been able to catch up to you from hiding all these years.

"Ya ever been 'round here, sweetheart?"

you know that gruff voice of Sheriff Toji from behind you, you could practically hear the tease in his voice lifting his hat with his thumb, his uniform was two sizes smaller for someone his size practically hugging his body through the material, twirling the metal handcuffs between his fingers against his hip approaching the bar from behind.

toji fushiguro, the townsfolk's well-known sheriff, you scoff at his presence trying to ignore him while chewing the inside of your cheek—he slides one of the posters near you tapping his finger near the cash reward.

"maybe once or twice. Have we met before?" your lips turned into a sly smirk, turned your gaze toward his direction, tracing a finger against the rim of the glass.

Toji scoffs at your question, propping his cheek on his palm, pulling a crumpled-up spare cash in his pockets. placing it onto the bar table smiling at the bartender.

"A sweet face like yours would have me thinkin' you're just a sweet girl. A criminal, though? Heh, that's a new one." he teased in a playful banter, as you scoffed at him not interested in the conversation any longer than intended knowing he’s trying to keep you here to capture you.

like that ever happened.

‘What’s cute, are you thinking you’re actually going to catch me.”

you maintained eye contact with Toji, while you reached into your pocket pulling out a few dollars on the table, just a few spare changes — it’s the least you could do, standing upright and turning to slip off the bar stool.

toji roll his eyes towards your body shuffling around the overcrowded bar- easing your way through the crowd, blending it the best way you could— like a never-ending game of cat and mouse, poor you think you’d win.

“I know you won’t get very far, darling.” toji shouted smirking, knowing you wouldn’t get far in this— not this time.

but who are you kidding? but this wasn’t going to stop you.

nothing but a bunch of sheriffs wanting a quick buck for your capture, really what sheriff would actually be able to catch you this time around? there’s no way that you would get caught in your crimes, stealing all of the stack of cash from towns—“one step of head of the game” you’d thought to yourself.

smug assholes…

the statement makes you glare at his words, stopping in your tracks. the old jukebox playing in the background, the townsfolk clanked their glasses of beer together cheering loudly with one another—the room goes quiet as a certain someone changes the selections to a softer — mysterious tune as you watched the townsfolk’s go back to conversation like nothing happened.

you continued walking towards the exit, shoving a few people back out of your causing them to stumble over on their feet, plummeting down to the wooden floor boards groaning, some mumbling curses towards you but you shrugged them off with the stash of cash at your hip and a clean getaway.

nothing could stop you now that’s what all outlaws think..one step closer to freedom..right?

wrong.

your hopes of freedom were soon washed away, thus clashing into a board chest the impact of the crash causing you to stumbling over plugging to the ground. soon, your brushed yourself off scanning over your own body for injuries—not even a scratch on your soft skin.

your teeth barred at the person blocking your one way ticket out of this stupid forsaken town!. your eyes peering up at the one who you crashed into moments ago, he looks for familiar.

a little too familiar…?

your throat went dry, the color draining from your face. noticing that big badge engraving writing written bold letters “sheriff choso”, crouching down towards you with a smirk on his face, dangling handcuffs in front of you teasingly—snapping them both on your wrists.

“where do you think y’er going, sweetheart?” Choso states, pulling you by the handcuffs with a sharp tug causing you to stumble forward—but you weren’t going down like this? were you?..

“Let me go!..” you writhes underneath his grip onto your wrists from the hand cuffs, trying to slip away from their clutches—thrashing around pushing your body away from him, the same gruff voice from earlier interrupted your chance to flee.

“I reckon, you stop squirming and make it easy and surrender..” toji chuckled to himself from behind you-the rough, coarse hands dancing around, securing the handcuffs on your wrists, wrapping his hand around her waist and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, as if you weighted nothing to him at all.

a cheer erupted in the town square as the sheriff’s escorted yet another outlaw to jail - so that they can pay their debts and crimes, of course.

“watch y’er head,hun.”

you all made your way out of the bar, toji opened the door to the back of the squad car, pushing your head down and shoving you inside, closing the door behind you pausing to sit your body upright — in the leather seats. “don’t try anything funny, darling.”

choso spoke teasing, rustling through the glove compartment pulling out a pack of cigarettes—flicking the spark wheel a couple of times before igniting, taking a few puffs dragging out the smoke as the car engines ne begins to shift to drive with toji behind wheel snickering quietly at his partner’s words.

“Fuck you both..” you sneered, narrowing your eyes in their direction, from the back sheet feeling the ropes running against your soft skin, thrashing around—only wearing your body out in the process, your slumped back in seat, chest heaved up and down her body betraying the wariness that settled deep into her bones.

“language, your already in enough trouble as it don’t make it worse y’er self.”toji huffs, annoyed at your childish antics ignoring any other protests you have-lashing out at him and kamo didn’t have much effort on them, soon the car shifted causing the car to wheel to go flat from the bumpy path of rocks logged into the tire —great now you’re stranded in the middle of nowhere for a few miles—but a couple of rocks and coyotes —spawning around the ground looking for food, but quickly scurrying off into the dusty gulch.

“great, you’ve got me kidding me?. I’m stuck with these two idiots…” you kissed your teeth, laying your hand onto the car door as toji and kamo got out the vehicle, looking at the mere damage of the car from the outside leaving you alone in the backseat.

“watch it.” choso spoke up from outside of the car, as the window cracked down a little bit due to the humid weather in the town.

suddenly a idea clicked place in your head, you rolled onto your back shifting your weight around to sit up from the being jerk from the car breaking down, trying to by you a little time to get free and flee from these officers once and for all, but you spot something glistening from the sun peaking down on the object, in the on the dashboard of vehicle.

the key.. but there’s only one problem the bars small mental barricading the of the car from the backseat , separating you from the front of the vehicle—“no use you thought” to yourself considering your handcuffs behind your back, the cold mental practically leaving red marks on your skin, you whined trying to release some pressure off your aching muscles just for a moment—it annoyed you that these stupid sheriffs are always doing good deeds—and shit handed over to them without questions.

luckily, another cowboy came along on his larger horse coming to a halt, its hooves click against the ground and wagon attacked to the back of it. you snapped your head towards the few voice looking out the back window, after a few moments of conformation starting walking back to the car where they left you—giving them a guide to the nearest shop keeper.

“look like y’er coming with us shop, darlin. c’mon, out the vehicle.” choso spoke bluntly, up from the side of toji, the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, shoving the box in his back pocket escorting you out of the car clearly surprised that a criminal like you hasn’t escaped their hands yet—nonetheless he’s wasn’t going to let up his guard just because his partner took a liking toward you, but couldn’t deny her sweet pretty face like yours beside robbing the town blind.

and yet, here you are in a old workshop. the clerks sail man welcomes you into shop with a smile, the two sheriffs thank the sail man. he offered them free of charge, shuffling around for his tools squeezing past them to make his way outside to fix their car—leaving you with them in this tiny shop.

“can’t you let me go now?.. it’s going to take that man a while before your car is fixed.” you hum softly towards them leaning your back against the wooden desk— toji and choso raises a brow at your antics looking at each other scoffing, clearly not impressed by it one bit,stepping a little bit closer towards you—a stupid game of cat and mouse you’d think but, you wouldn’t face defeat so easily —but at this rate you’ve lost.

“y’er really think we’re going to let you go?”

“crime doesn’t sleep y’know that, darlin.”

toji roll his eyes at your little game that your playing with, it was kinda cute how you’d try taunt him and his partner—his board frame towering over yours before you could blink you were pressed against the desk in a bent over posture, hands behind your back sore from being in the cuffs.

perfect.

the wooden desk was fairly sturdy enough—holding itself by a a thread. toji pressed himself up against you—feeling his thick bulge against your clothed crotch causing you to let out a sharp gasp , his rough fingers dancing along the hem of your shorts, noticing the wet patch clinging against the material—you couldn’t peel your eyes of it noticing how big it was from the tight print showing against the fabric of his pants.

“hmm, would you look at that? soakin’ through your shorts already, barley even touch you.” he teased, hooking his fingers along your pulling your shorts down to your ankles—tossing them to the floor.

toji chuckled stepping back away from you, a smirk plastered across his face, not even bothering hiding the slight dick jumping his pants, forming a wet spot in the crotch. you whined out writhing on the desk—hearing the wood creaky slightly, you hated him for his restless teasing you denying you of the pleasure you desperately wanted but wouldn’t admit out loud—leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

“such a tease aren’t you always, fushiguro?”

choso eyes roaming over your body, extinguishing his cigarette from his mouth to the ashtray, the smell sticking on him as he approaches you from behind—you lifted your head slightly, choso shoves his hands into his pocket pulling out the handcuffs key unlocking you from the harshness of the cuff against your skin, his glossy soft lips pressing small kisses on the red irradiated skin—easing your pain slightly causing you a small whine to escape your lips.

choso never took his eyes off your form, his lips felt felt like heaven against your skin flushed they grew more intense down your body, stopping at your underwear.

“you were right fushiguro, she’s practically leaking just from a few kisses huh.”

not before leaving hickeys over your delicate skin, preparing open mouth kiss down your stomach slowly—just like your underwear was down to your ankles exposing your wet pussy him. goosebumps creeping up your skin, shuddering underneath his touch. you felt his lips curling into a smirk against your skin, tracing his fingers along your slit.

“so sensitive sweetheart?.. want me eat y’er pretty pussy?” he gestures towards your slit, getting soaked in his palms like putty—his large hands spreading your legs apart, leaving you writhing in his grasp—causing you to arch your back against the desk perfectly.

“y-yes! —pleaseplese choso.” you replied, feeling yourself grow more warm skin flushed against him—as he nod, his pink tongue taking your clit in his mouth sucking on the sensitive bud, choso dark purple eyes never leaving your in utter bliss, pressing the pad of thumb against it —pulling his mouth away your cum covering glistening on his lips, he held your grasps your thigh against bending them towards your chest, plunging his tongue deepest parts inside of your pussy.

“choso!—-fuckfuckim close.”your hands tangles in his hair gripping a handful of his hair, causing him to groan deeply against your skin feeling your walls clenched around his tongue picking up the pace, bucking your hips against his face—trying to gain more pleasure teetering you to the edge.

“that’s a good girl.” choso hums against your warm skin. he’d love the cute reaction you gave,giving your clit a small pinch causing yelp to escape from your lips—feeling a bundle of nerves in your tummy releasing your essence paint his face, as he eagerly laps up the mess you made

—legs trembling as your back falls against the wooden desk, chest heaving up and down trying to catch your breath.

soon, toji swiftly pushed himself off the wall to your fucked out state, as choso moved to the side the desk—unlooping his belt buckle causing his pants to drop to the floor with a thud, he usually doesn’t wear underwear underneath his pants, you were lucky enough to see him in this state, nibbling on your bottom lip as your jaw nearly dropped to the floor at its size—not to mention how the hell was that going to fit inside you, is a better question.

“such, a pretty thing. hope y’er ready, sweetheart.” toji murmured roughly as his hand nuzzling into the sides of your waist snug, teasing your quivering hole with its tip along your slick coating itself not fully inside of you yet—your were already gripping his beefy arms dragging your nails into the forearms, a few gasps escaping your lips as toji coated his thick length with your juices sliding inside of your pussy with ease-rocking his hips back and forth—slowly filling you up inch by inch until he was fully situated.

“fuckkkk,like having y’er cute little pussy around my dick.” a deep groaned escaping his lips eyes brows knitting together the warm tightness enveloping his length greedy, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear pressing a soft kiss pulling you closer to by the waist, arching your back perfectly against him as his fat tip kissing the sweet spot inside you—feel his balls slap against your thighs.

“toji…’fuckkkk..feels so good.”you felt so full with his thick girth—hitting that soggy spot inside of you stuffing you with his length turkey on thanksgiving night—your brow knitting together, panting covered in a sheer of sweat gasping—feeling the same bundle of nerves washing over you covered his girth with your seed mingling together—your half-lidded eyes peering up at him, he was so beefy frame loomed over yours skin covered in sweat glistening in the dimly shop coaxing another orgasm out of you.

toji grunts breathless almost out his movements got sloppy grasping your hips a little tighter, sweat beads forming on his forehead as he increased his pace of thrust feeling his balls tightening up as he slowly spilled him seed inside of you, he hunched over feeling his back giving on him groaning at his pains.

“fuck, my back” he rolled his eyes at aches and pain that cum with age before dragging his length out of your pussy slowly, leaving you feeling a bit empty afterwards. the wooden desk creaks against as you push yourself off it.

toji rubs lazy circles around your stomach, reassuringly looping his beef arms around your frame plopping down onto the chair. the wooden desk creaked, stood up on its legs before splitting down the middle in half causing the paper and office supplies to the floor.

the sail man’s comes back into his shop, as the discarded clothes on the floor as he’s covered in motor oil from head to toe, sweating from working on the car all afternoon.

“a-a-mm I interrupting something…?”

@honeybleed @hoshigray @marimogf @hqkalon @screampied @osaemu @satoruhour @erensbaebee @kokonoiscoconut @chrollohearttags @cindol @satorena @ramonathinks @hyunip @breyspage @sugurulefttesticle @tetzoro

[miley1442111]

no promises- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: aaron had to save you.

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: general cm minds topics, guns, trauma, a kid is hurt, talk of abductions, talk of harm coming to the team, the reader is harmed, talk of surgery, talk of choking, etc.

You hadn't even realised he was behind you until you felt the familiar but unwelcome sting of a bullet in your arm. You screamed out, falling to the ground in pain as he ran off. 

Get up. Something inside you said. What if he gets to the team? To Aaron?

You got up. 

Running after him, you ignored the sounds of the rest of the team on comms and continued, following his footsteps. You can’t shoot him, you reminded yourself. He’s the only one who knows where the kid is. 

You caught a glimpse of his hand, turning left. “Put your hands up, put the gun down,” you pointed your own at him, the young girl in his hands as he pointed a gun at her. “Put the gun down now.” 

He didn’t respond, a sick smile on his face. He’d been abducting children, ones that eerily reminded you of your little sister. Your eyes were closing and you could practically feel the blood flowing out of you, he’d definitely hit you somewhere bad. Yet, you had to save this girl, even if it was the last thing you ever did. 

“And why, pray tell, should I?” He asked, a disgusting smirk on his dirty face. “Do you not wish her the same fate as yourself?”

“No,” You grunted out, still ignoring the screams from the other side of the comms. No one had followed you into the hidden door in the back of the warehouse, leading to a maze of endless rooms and confusing signs. “She’s a little girl, take me instead.”

His interest was piqued. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron felt sick to his stomach. “Take me instead.” was ringing in his ears as he scoured the warehouse, desperately trying to find him. He felt everything was happening in slow motion, he could taste the copper of his own blood, he’d been biting his lips. His anxiety was taking over. You hadn’t spoken on the comms for a whole 20 minutes, you could’ve already been gone. He’d heard gunshots, you could be dead and he’d be able to do nothing. 

Nothing. 

“Sir,” He heard a sobbing child, he whipped his head around and saw her, the little girl the unsub had last taken, hsi heart stopped. Immediately he wrapped her up in his arms, allowing her to cry into his chest. When his ears finally focused in, he could hear her soft apologies, he pulled his head away, adrenaline and genuine dread running through his body. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he promised her, cutting her off. “Look at me- you have nothing to apologise for, at all.”

“But the woman-” she cried and his face hardened. Damnnit. 

“We’ll find her, don’t worry.”

“She was bleeding!” she cried into his chest, sobbing harder. 

“She’ll be ok, she’s strong,” He whispered, quelling her tears and after a few minutes she slowly allowed the exhaustion to overtake her and fell asleep against him. In that time, he’d let his own tears fall, you were hit. You were missing. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron walked through the confusing maze with a SWAT team hot on his heels. Finding there was one exit and entrance, you and the unsub still had to be in there. Spencer was busy mapping out the warehouse and maze through small drone cameras they’d sent out around 40 minutes after your comms were shut off but Aaron couldn’t wait any longer. You were missing. 

They’d found your earpiece on the floor beside your gun and a trail of blood. The trail of blood followed on the wall, and they silently moved along it. Everyone held their breath as they kicked open a door, just praying to find the unsub and you, alive. 

They found what they were looking for, just not in the conditions they wanted. You were on a surgery table, a heart monitor showed that you were barely alive. Aaron wanted to scream. He set his sights on the unsub, an unfamiliar rage settling in him. His hands were around the asshole's neck before he even knew what he was doing, and it took three officers to pull him off. 

He blacked out after that. Spencer said he went with you in the ambulance, and waited for 14 hours while you had emergency surgery. 

You were alive. You had 12 broken ribs, a broken arm, shattered hip-bone, some facial wounds from when the unsub had beaten you up, and you’d lost a kidney and almost a lung. But you were alive.   

Aaron walked into your hospital room the second the nurse said he could. He saw you sitting there, being fed jello by a nurse and he smiled. You were still alive. 

You looked at him and smiled to the best of your abilities. “Hi,” you croaked out.

“I love you,” he said, taking your right hand. Surprise spread across your features and a warmth set in your stomach. 

“I love you too.” 

“Never do that again,” he said with bated breath. “I think you’ve taken years off my life with the stress.”

“No promises,” you joked and he smiled. “Now feed me my jello.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :)

[opalemo]

homecoming. ✿

the ache of longing, the spark of anticipation, the joy of reunion. the way they greet you at the airport when you finally arrive home.

xiao / childe / scaramouche & gn reader. just sweet happy moments.

xiao

xiao is scared for an entire week leading up to your return. it’s so stupid how he’s afraid of the thing he wants the most, but he has no idea what he’s supposed to do or how he’s supposed to act. does he buy you gifts? clean your room? bring you flowers? does he act normal or extra nice? does he say he missed you? but you already know that… so should he say he loves you more than anything and never wants you to leave without him again?

okay, he probably can’t manage telling you that without combusting on the spot.

as the date draws nearer xiao feels his heart grow lighter in anticipation - the weight of waiting and longing slowly dissipating as the sun rises over the dawn of your arrival.

he can sense you coming before he even lays eyes on you, bobbing in and out among the sea of other people rushing out and celebrating reunions with their loved ones. anxiety gnaws at his thoughts - what if you’re different? what if you’re unhappy to be back? what if you realised you’re actually better off without him?

“hi, xiao.”

your voice is still as beautiful as ever. so are those eyes, your smile, you. he opens his mouth to say sorry for zoning out and for doubting you for no reason but before he can speak, your hands are on his collar and your lips are on his for the first time in what feels like forever.

your fingertips drag softly across his jaw.

“i’ve missed you”.

xiao’s embrace is gentle in spite of his poorly concealed desperation. you, on the contrary, completely fling yourself into his arms. his hands shake with unbridled excitement, unfamiliar euphoria consuming his very being.

unlike the excruciating grip his mind usually has on him, this feeling is so light in every way.

your laugh bubbles against his chest, and he realises how much he missed the sound - the sound of happiness. yours is his, and his is yours.

childe

you’re on high alert, scanning the rows of people left and right for that familiar mop of ginger hair. with the way your heart is pumping you’d think you were more afraid than excited. after all, dating your beloved ajax of all people means you have to be prepared for a jumpscare at absolutely any second. and the fact that you don’t see him anywhere doesn’t disappoint you or make your heart drop. with the way he was counting down the weeks, days, hours to this moment, there’s no way he would forget or even be a second late to pick you up. it just makes you question what the hell he’s up to this time.

you look down at your phone to check the time and whether or not he’s texted you. nothing yet. you scroll through his instagram to see if he’s uploaded anything. nothing.

you only realise your mistake when you look back up again.

slowly turning around, you come to face that cheeky grin, his smile stretched as wide as ever, and you have to try and contain a laugh at his obvious childlike excitement at being able to sneak up behind you.

it sounds cheesy, but you swear the whole world slows down when you’re finally in his arms again.

childe swings you around about five times and proceeds to squeeze the very life out of you (you can’t breathe and this is literally so embarrassing, but you couldn’t care less). he’s here, he’s alive, and he’s still as annoying as ever - just the way you like (love) him.

scaramouche

to any bystander, it would’ve appeared as if he didn’t even miss you. hell, why was he waiting for you at the airport in the first place? did you coerce him into it? threaten to break up with him?

in fact, he thinks to himself, that sounds more like something i would do.

you don’t even need to look for him when you enter the arrivals area - he’s standing at the back near the exit, hood on, headphones in, arms crossed like some wannabe gangster trying to look intimidating. he pretends not to notice you waving (embarrassingly) at him, but you know he does - you know he’s simply overjoyed to see you.

just expresses it in a strange way is all. not that you’re complaining.

“kuni!” you squeal, letting go of your suitcase to jump into his arms. he uncrosses his arms so fast to catch you (and your suitcase which is now rolling away), holding you tight against his chest like you might fall down and disintegrate if he doesn’t. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s trying so hard to contain a blush and a smile right now.

when he finally lets go to take you to his car, he mutters a “will you stop holding onto me or what?” under his breath.

the audacity.

he kisses you when you get in the car.

[gentrychild]

An anon who was rereading Anyone asked me what would have happened if Izuku didn't like eggs and how you tell a supervillain you don't like what he made and that you want something. I have bravely tried to answer said ask but Tumblr laughed at my pain, so here is it, on a new post.

------------------------

When confronted with the super villain Izuku had accidentally broken out of the most secured prison in the country, a man who had basically walked out of said prison as soon as he hadn’t been restrained anymore, Izuku did the only thing any rational person would do.

He ran like hell. No shoes, no plan, nothing except Full Cowl roaring in his veins and he fled.

At least, he tried to.

Strong tendrils stopped him dead, then hands picked him up by his shoulders and suddenly, his feet weren't touching the ground and he was forcibly brought to the kitchen table.

''No, no, no,'' All for One said with the tone one would employ with a disobedient pet or a very young child. ''Your breakfast is going to get cold and we have so much to talk about. Sit. Enjoy the eggs. If you don't like them, I can make something else.''

And he dropped him on his chair, before putting the plate in front of him. Then, he sat at the other end of the table, facing Izuku, his own plate in front of him and he started to eat. Slowly, his manners perfect, while Izuku was dying of sheer stress over there.

Then, he looked at Izuku. Then at Izuku's plate.

''You're not eating?''

Izuku looked at the man who had literally reduced people to paste last night and then at his plate of eggs and bacon, then back at the lunatic who was probably going to skin him alive soon enough. He needed to do something, to get the time to find a way out of this mess.

Now, any reasonable human being would have eaten a bit of eggs and bacon – well, eaten the bacon in Izuku’s case – but he had just woken up, was in a pre-caffeinated state and truly, Izuku had never claimed to have the slightest working relationship with sanity.

“I don’t like eggs,” he blurted out.

The supervillain, the very same man who had literally gone through a prison riot of fellow villains like he was running through wet paper, was startled so badly by those four words that he dropped his fork.

“What do you mean, you don’t like eggs???” he asked like this was a ludicrous notion, like everyone’s favorite breakfast should be eggs and bacon.

“Never liked them,” Izuku lied, by pure spirit of contradiction, far more developed than for most people, for it had been left with quite the amount of room after the disappearance of all his survival instinct.

And it was indeed a lie because, once upon a time, it had been his favorite comfort food, but when he had been a kid, during one of those weeks where his mom was gone and the neighbor supposed to watch over him was busy forgetting his existence, he had gorged himself on it at every meal until he had gotten so sick of it that he had been unable to eat them ever again.

All for One watched him with something that went beyond annoyance, it was the patented look of someone who knew one was messing with him and the words “You’re a goddamn liar” were probably fighting to be left out but he had no proof that Izuku was bullshitting him and if even if he somehow had a lie-detecting-quirk, Izuku would keep denying it because he probably wasn’t making it out alive anyway so why deprive himself of the chance of annoying his would-be-killer?

And actually, why wait?

“I prefer waffles,” Izuku informed him because, after all, All for One had offered him to make him something else.

All for One stared at him without saying anything, probably thinking about all the ways he could have killed Izuku back when they were in Tartarus. Meanwhile, Izuku gave the illusion to be staring back at him when he was actually thinking about the fact the window made a faster exit but All for One would have the time to catch him before he landed seven floors lower while the door offered him more options.

All for One eventually abandoned his plate and started to rummage through the cupboards, going straight to the place where Izuku and his mom usually put the baking ingredients. Either everyone organized their kitchen the same way, or All for One had broken in so many homes that he was just a pro at using any kitchen he found himself into.

“Do you have flour?” the lunatic called out. “I can’t find it.”

Izuku had already flowed out of his chair and was making his way to the door by walking backwards, trying to radiate nonchalance and not the need to RUN AWAY WITHOUT LOOKING BACK.

“Try the highest shelves,” Izuku helpfully suggested, his hand on the doorknob.

It was where his mom put the heaviest pots and pans they usually didn’t use, since everyone in this household needed to climb a chair to access it. With a little luck, they would all fall on All for One.

Izuku left the apartment, not even bothering to fully close the door behind him, and he ran. He was in his pajamas, had found his sneakers by the door and they were still in his hands as he booked it out of his neighborhood as fast as Full Cowl could carry him and he didn’t stop until his building wasn’t in sight anymore. Then, he stopped on a bench, the couple flirting on it deciding they could do that somewhere else when they saw him approaching, and he put his sneakers on, took a deep breath, and decided to run some more, still in the opposite direction of where Todoroki was living, and then, he would figure out a plan.

Unfortunately, liquid shadows chose this moment to appear right in front of him, revealing All for One, who was holding a bag from Waffle Palace in one of his hands.

“I didn’t find any flour or sugar so I just ordered in.”

Some people would have screamed or been startled but Izuku had already ripped the bench from the ground and thrown it at All for One. The villain batted it away with his empty hand but it didn’t matter because Izuku was already half way through the park, or at least until black tendrils grabbed him and yanked him back.

 “Your waffles are going to get cold,” All for One sternly informed him before grabbing him by the back of his shirt and he warped again, this time with Izuku under his arm.

[bl00dst41ned]

Hiii. Can you please write angst where Jobe and the reader have a really bad argument so they stop talking to each other for like a week. And they’re both nervous that the other is going to break up with them? Can it end in fluff like where they make up? Thank you.

*.·:·.✦ never ending ✦.·:·.*

pairing: jobe bellingham x female reader

summary: in which a bad argument torments two young love birds

author's note: requested by anon. was way longer than i thought. might get back to posting randomly don’t know yet but I got ideas

word count: 1228

“If you actually cared about me, you would understand how I feel” You spat at Jobe’s face as he rolled his eyes at your words.

“But I can’t control what somebody is about to say before he says it”

You two had been arguing for the last fifteen minutes for what seems to be a stupid reason. For all you remembered, it started with a phone nowhere to be found. Then, somehow you were angry about how he handles his friends.

“He bluntly disrespected me and you just sat there not saying nothing”

“What did you want me to do” He snapped, raising his voice. He never raised his voice, let alone at you.

“Tell him that he was wrong”

“Maybe he wasn’t”

Your mouth slightly open, as his sentence left you speechless. His friend Tony had called you a bitch and there Jobe was, your boyfriend, agreeing with him. This could not be real. It felt like some type of game. Like he had sent her the ultimate punch, knocking her out completely.

You didn’t pronounce a word and just left the house. Luckily, nobody was here to hear you argue and ask any questions. You just grabbed your phone and coat going back to yours.

Your heart tightened with each sobs, your chest aching. It was not the first argument but this one tore your heart apart.

…………..

You checked your phone for the millionth time in an hour. It had been a week since that argument. A week since you have seen Jobe or talked to him. Not a message, not a call, no nothing. There were times when you wanted to. But you were always reminded that you didn’t do anything wrong.

“If you don’t put that phone down” Your best friend snatched it out of your phone putting it on the table, faced down. “I told you already about that”

“But I miss him”

“But he needs to understand” She said with a ‘duh’ face, as you looked away not wanting to face her and the truth. “If you let this one slide, he won’t see the issue”

You could feel your eyes water at the thought of him. Your mind roamed all day wondering how he felt. Your relationship was on a dark path, eating you alive. Eventually, the tears that threatened to fall, ran down your cheeks.

“I just want to speak to him, know how he feels” Each word brought more tears to your eyes. “Maybe he doesn’t even feel anything.”

“Give yourselves time away, you’ll be alright”

“But what if we don’t. Maybe this was meant to happen. Maybe we’ve come to the end of us-”

“Don’t. Even. Dare. Saying that.” Your best friend cut you off “That little argument will not break your relationship. Not on my watch”

“Now wipe your tears and let’s get back to this homework, okay?”

You nodded your head, doing as told, taking a deep breath before going back to your work. Your best friend grabbed her phone, tapping her keyboard quickly before concentrating.

Jobe

apologize to my best friend or 

you’ll pay for each tear on her face

On the other hand…

Jobe sat in his friend’s room sitting on the bed.

“JOBE!” The loud voice of his friend made him jump, exiting out of his thoughts. “Are you playing with us?”

He decided to spend the day with some friends, playing video games and getting his mind off. But the message he just received from your best friend had brought him back to your argument. Jobe regretted everything he had said to you. The image of your glossy eyes staring at him after his harsh words had been glued in his mind for the entire week.

“Stop thinking about (Y/N) for once, please,”Tony sighed loudly, his annoyance clearly audible.

A silence followed as they all looked at each other awkwardly.

“Tony, leave him alone for once” Another friend stepped in, trying to change the subject. “He’s not in the mood”

“But he just ruins the vibe every time, looking all depressed”

“Well, sorry I’m scared (Y/N) might break up with me”

Tony rolled his eyes at the mention of your name.

“Bro, what’s your problem with my girl?”

Jobe had grown tired of the slight shades Tony would throw around about you. He did not see the real problem but the time he was apart from you, he spent it with his group, noticing Tony’s behaviour every time you were mentioned.

“Stop acting like she’s not the problem”

“But she’s not” 

“Anyway, just play the game” Tony tried to give him the controller before letting go, realizing he would not take it.

“No, bro, let’s settle the issue now. What has she done to you? Cause if we are in this situation it’s mostly your fault”

“What is she crying about now?”

“You hate her for no reason and disrespect her in front of her face and think she’ll be alright”

“Nah, bro, she’s getting in your head too much” Tony shook his head looking away. “This bitch-”

Tony didn’t even have time to finish his sentence that Jobe had got up, aggressively heading to Tony. With all he had said about you, he was definitely not his friend anymore.

Their friends instantly got up to keep them away from one another. Tony, outraged by Jobe’s behaviour which he found over the top, decided to leave them, insulting Jobe on his way out.

“I should go too”

“You sure ?”

“Yeah, I’ll just go home”

He grabbed his phone and got out of the house, heading to your house.

(Y/N) 🤍

I’m coming in thirty mins

seen

……………

Jobe knocked on your room door, entering once you allowed it.  He smiled at your sight with his hoodie on you, enveloping your body. He assumed you wouldn’t want him to touch you so he went to sit on your bed. You couldn’t wait any longer and just went to get into his arms.

“I missed you”

“I missed you too, I’m sorry for what I’ve said to you” He spoke while giving you multiple forehead kisses.

“It’s oka- no it’s not” He cut you off as you tried to brush it off as if it did not matter. But he could not let what he had done just be forgotten.

“I disrespected you for no reason and dismissed your feelings. I didn’t try to actually see the situation from your point of vi- matter of fact it was just overly wrong and anybody could say it. For some reason, I approached the situation very dumbly and not as your boyfriend should. I’m deeply sorry, babe”

You could only listen, still glued to his body. He had realised that he was wrong

“I’m sorry too for screaming at you”

“Jobe” You spoke lowly while you let him go“Let’s not let that happen again. I don’t want to feel like we’re on the verge of breaking up after every argument"

“I know, I’ll be better, I promise”

“It’s not real until we lock pinkies” You held your pinky up to him.

He smiled at you, locking his pinky with yours before kissing them so you knew it was genuine.

“This does not change how I feel for you” You reassured, already knowing it had been on his mind. “Remember that”

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[onlymurphy]

Look After You

SPOILERS: Through Drum Island

Why do I love writing Sanji suffering so much? Guess we'll never know.

You've braved the elements. You've climbed the mountain. It's over. Or, you think it's over until you find Sanji, Luffy, and Nami on the brink of death in the mountains of Drum Island. You struggle to keep your friends alive, especially when you see the severe extent of Sanji's injuries. In the chaos, however, Sanji does the strangest thing possible. He kisses you. Now, waiting anxiously to find out his fate, you're forced to remember the pivotal moments in your friendship and question whether being with him will end in love and joy, or destroy the relationship you have with the person you love most.

Sanji x fem!reader

Angst | Fluff | Friends to Lovers

PG-13

TW: Gore, blood, description of serious injury, mention of food insecurity, mention of arranged marriages.

This is the same reader as Worthy of You!

Cross-Posted on A03

Request Here

“Please.”

The cold is digging through your pants now, your knees numb. Maybe you would have noticed the discomfort if the rest of your body wasn’t gripped by the numbness of terror - unable to move but frantic as you fist at the torn material of Sanji’s shirt.

“Please” you beg him, your voice not even sounding like it belongs to you, like someone else is pleading with the half of your soul before you to just keep breathing. “Please don’t leave me. Breathe for me, Sanji.”

He seems as though he can’t move his head, but he darts his eyes to the side to look at you. They’re not your Sanji’s eyes. They’re grey, distant, something akin to the snow freezing your clothes to your skin.

“I’m dying” he mumbles.

You recoil from the words. How dare he speak such a thing into existence. How dare he threaten you in that way, imply that the universe has the strength to pry him from your arms.

“I’m dying” he repeats as if you hadn’t heard him the first time. “I don’t wanna die.”

You brush some of that hair out of his eyes, and oh Gods you’ve gotten blood on his pretty face.

“I got blood on your forehead” you whisper, not sure what else to say.

In glorious, perfect him, he forces his hand to slide across the snow until it’s laid on your knee. “It’s okay, Pretty.”

Pretty.

He can’t die. Who else will call you Pretty? What will stop that part of your soul from withering away to nothing?

You don’t want to move him or lift him in fear of irritating his injuries, but not being able to hold him in his agony is ripping you apart. Blood is soaking the front of his coat. The white snow below him is pure red, disgustingly reminding you of the raspberry sorbet he’d given you earlier. You can taste it at the thought of it, but when that taste turns to the metallic ghost of Sanji’s blood, it takes everything in you not to vomit.

“Where are you bleeding?” You wonder as you slowly, ever so slowly begin to wake from your shock. “I’m gonna take your coat off and stop the bleeding.”

He meekly shakes his head. “Help Nami. Help Luffy.”

Ever generous, ever brave, ever self-sacrificial.

“I covered up Luffy’s hands and feet and wrapped Nami in my coat. They’re gonna be fine for now.”

His hand shoots out with a newfound vigor then, fingers wrapping around your wrist.

“Go” he demands you, though the harsh word doesn’t quite land with the way his voice is beginning to break. “I’m dying.”

There it is again, that betrayal.

You try your best to ignore him, reaching into your belt and pulling out your knife. The blade makes quick work of his puffy jacket. Fluff instantly turns red when it exits the fabric, sticking to his wounds and falling to the snow.

“Stop” he whispers. “Please. Pretty, I can’t move my legs. I can’t feel my feet.”

No. No, that’s not true.

It’s the cold, that’s all. It’s just the ice.

You tear open his shirt, tears beginning to prick at your eyes. They feel as though they freeze the instant they come.

“Sanji” you begin once his coat and shirt have both been cut away. “I have to roll you a bit so I can see where you’re bleeding from. I think the wound is on your back.”

You don’t give him time to hesitate or be afraid. You use all the strength that’s left in your exhausted body to roll him just a bit. You nearly gag at the sight of your best friend’s back once it seems to peel up from the ice below.

His vertebrae are exposed to you. The white bone is a stark contrast against the blood and flesh, a vile set of stars on red skies. It appears as though the skin of his back has been scraped away, leaving a gory mess in its place. You can see the vein where the blood is coming from, pulsing and dripping red with every fragile beat of his heart.

Oh, your Sanji,

You’re going to set fire to the island after this.

“Hey” you tell him softly, trying to keep the fire-hot rage in your chest from dripping into your words. “Hey, I have to stop the bleeding. I have to grab it, and it’s gonna hurt.”

You quickly pull your second layer jacket off, laying it over Sanji’s bare front to try and stop his trembling. The shaking of his body only makes it worse, blood seeming to soak the snow around you faster and faster the colder he gets

“I’m sorry” you whisper to him before reaching beneath his back.

Hot bile rushes up your throat the instant your hand finds its target. His flesh is slippery with blood, oddly warm and throbbing when you grab his vein in your fingertips. You have to turn your head down and talk yourself through deep, shaking breaths to keep all the contents of your stomach from joining the blood in the snow.

Sanji moans when you give a particularly hard gag. He hisses in pain, gritting his teeth like it’s all as simple as removing a splinter or dressing a kitchen burn.

“I’m so sorry” you apologize despite his rather subdued reaction to having a vein tugged upon. “I’m sorry, I have to hurt you to stop it.”

He licks his lips, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. They make little flakes of ice collect in his lashes.

“Please” he begs, his voice barely anything. “Please, I can’t move my legs, angel. Go get Nami and Luffy inside.”

“I don’t care if I have to get as buff as Zoro and carry you everywhere for the rest of my life. I’m not leaving you.”

Of all the things Sanji could do, he smiles. His pink, plush lips are starting to gray.

He’s still bleeding. Do better.

“I don’t want you to get cold” he whispers. “Look at your goosebumps, Pretty.”

The laugh comes through the tears.

Oh, my Sanji don’t die. Who else could make me laugh here? Now? Don’t leave me behind.

“Shut up. No more talking. You have to rest.”

“Princess saving the prince?”

You nod. “Princess saving the prince.”

Sanji exhales then, his eyes drifting up to look at the sky. There’s barely anything of him left. The skin of his cheeks is white. His breath is all but gone.

Your Sanji is all but gone.

The little boy that used to peek at you from the kitchen doors of Baratie. Gone.

Swimming in the warm sea together, letting your skin burn under the summer sun. Gone.

Falling in love with him. Knowing you’re in love with him. The pain of being in love with him. Gone

Him, the first person to ever love you, the first person you’ve ever truly loved, the only person in the world you’d die for.

Dead.

Your heart hits your stomach like a boulder.

“Sanji!”

You’re shaking him. Gods, you don’t want to hurt him, but there’s something not right in the way his eyelashes have begun to bat quickly, the way his fingers are death-gripping his clothes.

He’s dead.

He’s gone.

“Sanji” you demand, the hysterics finally bubbling to the surface. “Look at me. Sanji? Please. Please, no. No, no, no, no, don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”

His eyelids drift shut.

You’re weeping now, pathetic in a pile in the bloodied snow, but you pay your shame no mind.

“Sanji!” You snap, enraged at yourself for yelling at him but more enraged at him for dying. “Please don’t leave me alone. I don’t wanna be alone again.”

“Pretty?”

Your tears are dripping onto his skin.

“Sanji?”

He flips his hand, using his finger to gesture you close. You obey.

You expect a whisper, a gentle word or two, but instead Sanji uses what little might he has left to grab a fistful of your shirt and pull your lips against his.

“Hey kid, you should come put something in your stomach.”

The doctor’s voice startles you from your trance, forcing your head back to look at her.

Dr. Kureha lurks behind you, her arms crossed over her chest. You swear that the woman hasn’t slept since you arrived, but she isn’t showing a single sign of being tired. She’s just as agitated as she was when you arrived, just as annoyed.

You haven’t received much gentile from her since your arrival to her castle, but there’s something about her face now that’s soft.

“Eat” she tells you, the demand coming off with an air of sadness. “You’ve got a couple nasty cuts and bruises yourself. You need a good meal.”

You glance back at the man lying before you, Sanji’s perfect face marred with black and blue as he sleeps the day away. As beautiful as he looks, as darling as he is to you, looking at him in this moment is physically painful for you. His entire body seems to be wrapped in bandages. His breathing -to you- sounds a little labored, different than it normally does when you lay your head on his chest for a nap on the deck.

You shrug. “I’m gonna stay with him. Thank you, Doctor.”

A hand comes down on your shoulder. It doesn’t pull or shove, but gives you a soft squeeze.

“You’re an idiot in love” she reminds you, her words accompanied by a small laugh. “Come on. You’re no use to him if you starve to death.”

Kureha’s words ring loudly in your head, but for all the wrong reasons. Sanji is going to wake up hungry, no one from Baratie to make a good meal for him. Sure, he’s taught you how to cook in the years you’ve been best friends, but you’re nothing compared to him and his old coworkers. Looking back at his injuries, the only thought that plagues your mind is the image of Sanji, hungry, panicked, and covered in his cuts and bruises.

“When will he wake up?” You ask her. “He’s gonna be hungry. It makes him nervous.”

The doctor strides up beside you, laying the back of her hand on Sanji’s forehead.

“He’s cooled down” she tells you. “His infection seems better.”

She walks around you then and pinches hard on Sanji’s ankle. He flinches, his beautiful face scrunching, his foot kicking up toward her hand.

“And his spine is resting well, it looks like.”

To see Sanji able to move his legs seems to pull a weight from your shoulders. You tried your best not to let is show, but there was nothing scarier in that moment of finding your crew in the snow than hearing Sanji say he couldn’t feel his legs. You knew that if he did survive his ordeal, he’d be broken to know he’d have to learn how to cook without his ability to walk.

The thing is, you were fully prepared to learn right along with him.

Usopp would lower the counters.

Nami would pay for it.

Zero would be just as mean.

Luffy would be just as demanding for meals.

The thought of your crew makes the first smile in days come to your lips. Of course you had nothing to worry for, nothing to fear.

You look over your shoulder then to peak at your captain. The tan boy lies on his back, long arms tossed from the side of his bed as he snores. You don’t know why, but something about him makes you feel safe. Maybe it’s because you know that he’ll never leave your crew behind. Maybe it’s because you know he couldn’t.

Dr. Kureha resorts to pulling at the collar of your shirt when you get lost in your thoughts. “Get up. We’re getting some food.”

You give Sanji’s hand one last squeeze before rising to your feet.

Kureha is smiling when you face her. “Atta girl. Come on.”

You reluctantly follow her out of the room, shutting the door behind you to let the boys rest without your constant worrying. You know they can’t really feel your anxiety in their sleep, but you can’t help the guilty twinge in your gut that your worry will only scare them.

What a funny thing you can be.

“Chopper wants to eat with us” Kureha tells you once the door is shut. “You mind?”

You cock an eyebrow. “Chopper? Your little reindeer?”

The doctor smirks at you, something poisonous in that smile of hers. “Yeah, my little reindeer.”

You shrug. “He’s precious. I don’t mind, as long I can pet him.”

For some reason, Kureha begins to laugh. “You’ll have to ask him how okay he is with that, but I don’t think he’ll mind if you’re nice.”

Kureha rounds the corner with you into her living space, but as soon as you do, you stop dead in your tracks.

A little…reindeer? Boy? Boy deer?

A little -creature, you decide- sits at the table. They’re tiny, maybe the size of a small child, chubby with little hooves sitting upon the table. Their back legs don’t quite hit the floor, so they swing them back and forth slowly.

They’re damn near the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, and they’re donned in Chopper’s big red hat.

“Chopper” Kureha begins. “Ready for dinner?”

Chopper. This is Chopper, the deer that pulled the sleigh into the castle.

He’s eaten a Devil Fruit. You’re sure of it.

The little reindeer narrows his eyes, but says nothing.

You smile, doing your best to hide the shock. “I’m sorry if I’m invading. I hope you don’t mind, Chopper.”

Upon hearing you speak to him, he seems to settle into his seat at the table. “I don’t mind.”

Oh, that little voice. You want to scoop him up into your arms and never put him down.

You take the seat across from him and continue to look his way as Dr. Kureha meanders over to the stove to grab what looks like a stew from it. Chopper is eyeballing you intensely, the serious look on his face not quite matching how cute he is. His eyes roam your face.

When he makes eye contact with you, he wrinkles his nose. “How do your bruises feel?”

“Good” you assure him. “Dr. Kureha took good care of me.”

You swear that if the reindeer didn’t have fur, he’d be blushing. “Actually, it was me that patched you up.”

You can’t help the way your jaw seems to drop to the table. “You’re a doctor?”

He nods furiously.

Your heart nearly bursts seeing him so filled to the brim with joy. He has such an innocence about him, such a sweetness. He’s just purely kind.

The moment makes you feel something, something akin to when you discovered Sanji was a chef.

You narrow your eyes, watching as Sanji pours cream into a pan sizzling away on the stove. The smell is absolutely heavenly. It’s what got you in the kitchen in the first place, got you to wander away from your parents and hunt down your best friend.

“What are you making?” You wonder, hoisting yourself onto the step stool next to him and peering into the pan.

He smiles, maybe brighter than you’ve ever seen. “Potato purée. It’s a side that Zeff wants to try out.”

The food in the pan looks divine, garlic and potatoes cooking into an aromatic blend. Your stomach growls. Zeff cooked an amazing meal for your family already this evening, but you hesitated to fill your belly with the way your mother was looking at you from the corner of her eye. If Sanji offers to feed you, you may just devour the entire pan yourself.

“Zeff trusts you to cook?” You question. “My mom would kill me if I went anywhere near the stove.”

Sanji snorts a bit. “Fancy pants rich McGee over here. We don’t all have maids that cook for us.”

You frown. There’s never really been too much banter between the two of you, Sanji always acting as the perfect gentleman despite only being ten years old. His attitude is new, and a little off putting. You almost feel the pressure of tears swelling in your bottom lid.

He seems to notice your silence instantly. His face falls as terror overrides his sweet face. “I’m sorry, Pretty” he rushes out. “I just meant that there’s nothing wrong with learning how to cook. I can teach you.”

He grabs a little spoon then, scooping a bit of the mixture he’s preparing and offering it to you.

“Try it” he urges. “I swear, you’ll like it. I work in a restaurant for a reason.”

You hesitate. It isn’t that you don’t love and trust Sanji, but you’ve never seen another child cook in all your life. Your mother has always kept your far away from the kitchen all your life.

“Darling, you’ll burn yourself.”

“Please, you might undercook food and get sick.”

“Hon, you might cut yourself on a knife.”

Huh, Sanji must be pretty brave to be working away in the kitchen. His smile even makes it seem like he’s enjoying himself.

You look up at him, and when you’re met with those bright blue eyes, your skepticism falls away.

You blow softly on the concoction, watching as the steam leaves the spoon and pools around Sanji’s face. He smiles, but you can tell there are nerves behind the dimpled grin.

The liquid sends warmth through your chest the instant it touches your tongue. It’s divine. It may just be a simple side or soup -you aren’t quite sure- but somehow it tastes the way that staying up late and telling ghost stories with Sanji feels. It’s cozy. It’s comfort. It’s perfectly Sanji. 

You smile. “Wow. Sanji, that’s really yummy.”

All the nerves fade from his smile. It becomes even wider. This is the first time you notice that he’s finally lost his front tooth, something you’ve been teasing him about for weeks. 

“Wait until it’s done” he beams. “I’m gonna put it with some salmon and Zeff is gonna let me have my own thing on the menu.”

On and on he goes, chattering away about all the dishes Zeff has been teaching him to make. It gets to a point where you really aren’t too sure what he's describing, but you don’t stop him. It’s rare to see your best friend so animated. All you can do is savor the moment, and log each little smile and laugh to memory.

Dr. Kureha drops a bowl of soup and some bread before you. Some of the soup unceremoniously sloshes out and lands on the table before you. “Eat up, kids.”

Chopper begins to devour his food immediately. You’re amazed that he can hold utensils as well as he can in the divide of his hoof. The little reindeer is full of surprises.

You stir the soup a bit, staring into the bowl. Truth be told, you aren’t really all that hungry. You haven’t been in the two days you’ve been here. Sanji has been your main concern. Knowing that there’s a chance he’ll wake up and not be able to walk has been wholly terrifying to you. Even now with that stress beginning to subside, there’s still no urge in you to eat knowing how starving Sanji is going to be when he wakes. You begin to feel the nerves returning then.

What if he wakes while you’re away? What if he looks for you? What if he’s afraid?

Chopper bats those big, wide eyes up to you.

“You should eat” he prompts you softly. “It‘ll help you heal faster.”

It’s hard not to want to do whatever he tells you in that sweet little voice. He was careful to stay out of sight for the last few days, a skittish thing, and you don’t want to risk doing anything that might scare him away.

You give him a little smile. “Of course. Just thinking.”

He slurps down another spoonful of soup. “What’s bothering you?”

Like a flash, the image of Sanji laying in the snow plagues your mind. You can nearly smell the blood, feel the slick of the liquid on your hands.

“Tired” you half-lie. “It’s been a long few days.”

Before the little reindeer can respond, Dr. Kureha takes a seat at the table with her own bowl of food. “Sitting at blondie’s bedside isn’t going to help that. You need to crawl into a bed and get some sleep.”

You give a half hearted laugh. “Wouldn’t be able to sleep if I couldn’t see him. I’m a little, uh, protective, I suppose.”

You see Dr. Kureha smirk out of the corner of your eye. “He your boyfriend or something?”

Huh.

Boyfriend.

Sanji reaches his hand out to you.

“Come on” he urges. “You can do it. It’s not that bad.”

You cross your arms over your chest and huff. There has to be a mad blush shading your cheeks at this point, but you’re far past caring. “No. I’m terrible at this, Sanji. I’m gonna embarrass the shit out of myself on Friday.”

Sanji laughs. “Stop it. You think whatever guy you’re gonna be dancing with is gonna know what he’s doing?”

“Yes!” You sigh. “Everyone in their weird rich people cult does. It’s like they pop ‘em out knowing which forks go where and how to do a Waltz.”

He softly takes your hand then, pulling you toward him and laying his hand on your hip. It’s a chaste touch, distance between you with fingers laid on the curve of your abdomen, but it still makes your skin positively burn.

You want nothing more than to just close the distance between the two of you. It’s moments like this where he’s borderline impossible not to kiss. It’s like your body is calling for him. You crave the feeling of those rosy lips on you, so curious to just to know.

Sanji takes a small step to the side and urges you to sway with him. “You’re the birthday girl” he continues on. “If you just want to sway around, that’s what you can do and no one can say a thing.”

You huff. “I don’t want to embarrass my mom. Gods know she’ll tell me if I do.”

For the first time since the evening began, Sanji’s smile fades. It’s like watching the sun implode into darkness right before your eyes.

“You’re not embarrassing. Your birthday is supposed to be fun.”

You sigh, stepping a bit closer to Sanji and burying your head in his shoulder. He smells like cigarettes, his hair faintly scented with a citrusy musk. If only this smell could lull you to sleep at night. If only you could spend the nights curled up in his arms, safe from the world by his side. 

He’s right of course. Your birthday is supposed to be fun, but it simply hasn’t been for you in the last few years. Your parents are more than antsy to have you married off the instant you turn eighteen. Every year since you turned thirteen, they’ve been hosting lavish parties of all the highest-ranking naval officers in hopes they’d bring their eligible bachelor sons with them. Your birthdays have become speed dates with every teenaged boy in and above your tax bracket.

“I don’t want to get married next year” you mumble suddenly, speaking against Sanji’s chest.

He exhales softly, the warmth of his breath ruffling your hair. “Do you really think they’re gonna make you?”

You nod. “I think they might give me a few years of grace if I really try to find someone I like, but if I just resist them, I think they’re gonna find someone for me. They’re getting frustrated.”

Sanji hums, his sway stopping as he pulls you against him. “Let’s run away. We can take my shopping boat and go be pirates together.”

A laugh finds its way up from your throat. “Yes, because my marine dad would love his only child becoming a pirate.”

“We won’t tell him” Sanji proclaims, taking your hand and beginning the tiny dance again. “We’ll go find the All Blue together and build our own restaurant. We’ll get rich.”

This makes you laugh a true, gut laugh.

“Sanji” you begin, tilting back in his arms and letting him sway you back and forth with his grip around your waist. “I have no skills that are helpful in a restaurant.”

“Not true!” He informs you through a laugh. “You’re good with your sword. You can chase off the riff raff.”

“So us becoming pirates wouldn’t make us the riff raff?”

He snorts a bit, pulling you back up so the two of you are now face to face.

His soft smile makes your heart go still in your chest.

“We’ll be good riff raff.”

Don’t kiss him. Don’t kiss Sanji. Don’t kiss your best friend.

The door of the Baratie swinging open grabs your attention, both of you turning your heads to see Zeff standing in the doorway.

“Oi, keep some breathing room between ya, got it?” The old cook demands.

Sanji rolls his eyes and lets his hands drop from your hips. The separation is like a death.

Dr. Kureha taps her spoon on the edge of her bowl. “Hey, your head feeling alright kid?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m sorry. I’m exhausted.”

She furrows her brow, scooping more stew into her mouth. You get the feeling that she’s being very observant of you every time she looks upon you, like she’s considering something about you. You’re not sure why. Surely if she’d ask you, you’d tell her, but she doesn’t seem like the kind of person to be outright with emotional questions.

After this momentary stare down, Chopper chimes in from where he sits across from you.

“I know you don’t want to leave your friends, so I can set up a mattress on the floor for you so you can rest.”

Your gaze lingers one more moment on Doctrine before you look to the little reindeer. He’s wearing a wide grin, his teeth showing.

“You don’t have to, Chopper” you tell him softly. “I’m fine, really. I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

The little doctor aggressively shakes his head. “No! You need sleep. I’d be a bad doctor if I let you exhaust yourself without helping you.”

There’s something in that sweet little voice that’s just so hard to say no to. He genuinely just wants to help, make sure you’re healthy. It’s been awhile since your crew has been treated with that sort of heartfelt kindness.

You smile, looking to Dr. Kureha. “I hope that’s okay. We’ve already intruded on your guys enough.”

She shrugs. “Don’t give a shit what you kids do as long as no one gets in the way of treating your friends.”

You hate to admit it, but something about the woman’s harsh tone is rather comforting to you. It reminds you of the way Zeff used to scold you and Sanji.

Chopper slams his spoon down in the bowl then, smiling brightly. “I’ll go get everything set up for you! You need rest.”

He hops down, little hooves clicking against the floor as he exits the room. You could just eat him up with how precious he is. It tickles you a bit, knowing someone so little and cute is something as heavy as a doctor. You wonder then what he’s seen, what he’s been through. It makes you ache a bit.

How could the world be so unkind to someone so small that they feel the need to become a savior?

The doctor dropping her own spoon into her bowl grabs your attention. She turns to you and frowns.

“What you did was pretty intense” she begins, grabbing her own bowl and rising to her feet. “You okay in the head, kid?”

You tilt your head. “What did I do?”

She drops her bowl in the sink, turning on the faucet. “Knowing where and how to grab an artery is impressive. How’d you know what to do?”

You shy away from the strange compliment. When you keep your hands idle for too long, you can still feeling the lukewarm, slippery feeling of gripping the inside of Sanji’s back. It makes your stomach twist, your bile raise.

“I was raised by a marine admiral. You learn a lot of terrible shit when your dad is in the military.”

“Strict?”

You shake your head. “I’m his entire life. Letting me go to be a pirate was the hardest thing he ever did. Part of loving me so much was teaching me how to take care of myself, how to save myself. Sometimes that got dark, I guess.”

Kureha approaches, gesturing to your still-filled bowl. “Eat. That injury on him is never gonna heal all the way. He should be able to walk when he wakes up, but you’re gonna have to do pain management, probably for the rest of his life.

You do as you’re told, scooping another spoonful of chowder into your mouth despite being a little bamboozled by the way her sentences take so many twists and turns.

“How are you kids sleeping at night on your ship? A hammock or swinging bed isn’t gonna cut it for him for a few weeks.”

“Hammocks for the boys” you reply. “I have a bed, though. So does Nami.”

“Nami’s the girl with the infection?”

You nod.

“Well” she begins as she takes a seat across from you at the table again. “If he’s your little boyfriend, it shouldn’t be a problem to let him sleep in your bed for awhile.”

There it is again, that word.

Boyfriend.

“Yeah, that won’t be an issue” you assure her, knowing damn well that she can see the wild blush on your cheeks. “I’d do anything to make sure he gets better.”

The doctor smirks and looks as though she’s going to continue to speak, but the conversation is cut off by a bloodcurdling scream from the other room. You turn so quickly that your back cracks and aches, the speed at which you fly to your feet making your knees creak.

Dr. Kureha shoots up out of her chair just as Chopper comes barreling into the room, little legs carrying him as fast as they can.

“Help!” He shrieks, dashing under the bed Nami rests in. “They’re gonna eat me, Doctorine!”

Before either of you can ask anything of the little reindeer, Luffy and Sanji come spilling into the room through the doorway, both shirtless and bruised with crazed looks in their eyes.

“Sanji! Luffy!” You snarl, that familiar need to scold the boys rising to your chest the instant you catch sight of their misbehavior. “Stop! What the fuck?”

Luffy points wildly at Chopper who’s still hiding under the bed. “Sanji’s gonna cook that talking reindeer and make me food!”

Chopper screams. You can’t help but begin to laugh.

“Guys, that’s Chopper. You can’t eat him” you inform them as Dr. Kureha reaches under the bed, pulling Chopper from his hiding place. “He’s a doctor.”

The little reindeer growls at the boys, but can’t get down from Doctorine’s arms. Luffy looks horribly unsatisfied.

“What can we eat, then?” He wonders, a pout on his face. “I’m starving! Food!”

Just as you’re about to answer him, you notice Sanji seem to come to his senses. He reaches his arm around his midsection, slipping down until he’s leaning against the doorframe. He winces in pain the instant his back makes contact with the stone wall.

“Sanji?”

You join him on the floor, reaching out to pull him into your chest and relieve his back from the pressure of the wall. He buries his face into your shoulder, taking a deep, shaking breath. You feel the tears. They’re hot and dreadful, but as much as you want to take his face in your hands and wipe away his agony, you don’t want to embarrass him in front of Luffy.

“Why the hell are you two morons out of bed?” Doctorine snaps, setting Chopper back down onto the floor.

Luffy ignores her, going your side. “Sanji? You okay?”

Sanji nods, lifting his head then and plastering a smile onto his face. “Yep, just sore.”

Doctorine kneels down by the three of you and presses her hand down in Sanji’s lower back without saying a word. He falls into you again, crying out into the crook of your neck. You swipe Dr. Kureha’s hand away.

“Stop” you snap at her. “You’re hurting him.”

“I don’t think he re-injured anything” she determines, taking no note of your aggression. “But the area was torn apart something nasty. You need to get back into bed and stay there.”

You run your hands through Sanji’s hair. He’s sweaty, a bit unkempt. It’s a rare sight for your stylish and put-together best friend.

“Come on” your urge him. “Let’s get you back into bed. I need some sleep, too. I’ll stay with you.”

He nuzzles into your neck. It sends a shockwave through you. He’s so delicate, so sweet. You almost have the urge to release him from your arms so that you don’t hurt him.

“How can I say no when a beautiful woman is gonna sleep in the same room as me?” he teases despite the twinges of pain in his voice.

You giggle a bit. “I’ll sleep in your bed if that’s what gets you back in there.”

Sanji doesn’t need to be told twice to crawl into bed with you. He allows you and Luffy to help him to his feet, holding onto you tightly.

“Go” Kureha urges the two of you. “Both of you need to get your asses to sleep.”

Sanji leans on you the entire time you walk back to his assigned bed, nearly collapsing when the two of you get close enough for him to lie down.

“Sanji” you fret. “My God. What were you thinking, jumping up like that when you’re hurt?”

He groans as you help him lie back down on his belly. “I was thinking that my captain was hungry and I had to feed him.”

You giggle and begin to stroke his hair. “How heroic. How do you feel?”

He does his best to shrug. “Terrible, but better because there’s a beautiful lady in bed with me.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no denying the blush that rises to your cheeks.

“Sanji” you begin, feeling knots start to tie in your gut. “Do uh, do you remember anything about me finding you guys?”

He lets his eyes drift shut, taking a deep breath.

“Hm. No, I don’t think so. I’m sorry you had to see that. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, Pretty.”

“Me?” You wonder. “Sanji, you fractured your spine and severed an artery. I haven’t been through anything compared to you.”

Sanji’s voice comes quiet, a bit shaky. “I what?”

Ah. He wouldn’t really know the extent of his injuries. He’s been unconscious for days.

“I separated from you guys to try and get those animals to back off. I found you when I climbed up the side of the mountain. You told me you couldn’t move your legs and you were bleeding from your back bad.”

He opens his eyes and rolls his head around so he can look up at you. There are tears. They kill you.

“Pretty, I’m so sorry you had to deal with that.”

You shrug, trying to keep the memory of Sanji in the snow out of your mind.

“You told me you didn’t want to die” you whispered. “You told me to leave you, though.”

He reaches for your hand and gives it a tight squeeze. Even the simple touch gets your heart racing.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

You kneel down beside him so you can look into his eyes, smiling to try and soothe his ever-growing worry.

“Don’t apologize for getting Nami here safely, Sanji. You saved her life” you remind him.

“I scared you” he whispers. “I’m sorry, Pretty.”

You gently boop his nose, making him smile. “I love you. Don’t apologize.”

It might just be the cold, but a blush rushes to his cheeks at your words. Goddamn, he’s too sweet for you. He’s practically giving you cavities by just smiling at you.

You lower your gaze then, looking down into your hands.

There’s one piece of information about this ordeal that you haven’t shared with Sanji just yet.

Something in you doesn’t particularly want to tell him that he kissed you. Ever since it happened, you’ve been going back in forth in your mind, trying to decide what it could mean.

Did he just kiss you because he was scared, stressed? Was he delusional from all the blood he had lost?

Did he truly mean it?

Every option would send you reeling. If he didn’t mean it, you’d be heartbroken and a little embarrassed. Years of loving him quietly would end in a faux kiss brought on by pain and delusion.

If he did mean it, you could have everything you’ve always wanted. You could be with him.

“You can’t be with him. It’s not an option.”

Your mother paces around the room as she speaks, her hands tangled in her hair.

“You can’t be with him” she repeats, her voice filled to the brim with venom. “No. Will you please say something to her?”

You look to your father, vision blurred by the tears in your eyes. He rubs his hand down his face.

“Isn’t this a non issue?” He begins. “If Zeff won’t let her marry the damn kid, what’s the problem?”

Your mother throws her hands up in the air as if to surrender. “Right, because he’d say no if we went to him and said ‘hi Zeff, do you want your unruly, rude son who’s probably going to be impossible to marry off to marry into our wealthy, well-respected family?’”

“Don’t be rude to Sanji” you mutter, coming to your friend’s rescue being the only thing you can think to do. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“He gives customers concussions on a weekly basis! He’s a mess! He’s a waiter!”

“He’s a cook” you correct her. “He’s smart, and he’s kind, and he respects me unlike the half the morons you’ve tried to set me up with.”

Your mother points at you with a venomous look on her face. “Don’t you cop an attitude with me. Your father and I have been busting our butts for the last three years to try and find someone respectable for you to marry, someone that can take care of you, and the only time you ever show any interest in a man is for Sanji?”

“Honey, please-”

“Don’t” -your mother’s accusatory finger flies to point at your dad- “Defend her. We’ve given her everything she could ask for for the last nineteen years and now she’s trying to put me in an early grave.”

“You don’t think you’re overreacting a little bit?” Your father argues. “She has enough training to where she could become a marine if she wanted to and pay her own way. I don’t think it’s completely necessary to dictate who she marries if she proves she can take care of herself.”

“A woman’s husband is supposed to take care of her, not the other way around.”

“Is that why you married me?”

The room falls silent after your father’s words fall into the air. You can feel their weight as if it were you they were directed at, feel the way they must have slammed straight into your mother’s chest and taken her breath away. You almost feel sorry for her.

Your mother lowers her gaze, staring down at the expensive pair of shoes your father surely bought for her.

You look to your dad. He’s staring at your mother with intensity, his eyes dark. You’ve never heard your father raise his voice at your mother in nineteen years. He’s always soft with her, kind. It reminds you much of the way that Sanji is with you.

Finally, your mother looks back up and sighs. “I love you because you’re a strong man and you take care of me and our daughter.”

“And I love Sanji because he respects me and makes me feel safe. Is that not enough?” You interrupt, the tears now flowing down your cheeks in excess.

Your mother shakes her head. “That’s all well and good until you realize that love isn’t the only part of a relationship. There’s financial and domestic things you need to take into account.”

Your father rolls his eyes. “I just said that she can become a marine if she wants to. Does it bother you that much to have a man cooking for her and not the other way around?”

“It’s not the cooking that bothers me” she snaps back. “It’s the fact that she’s the breadwinner in their marriage. What happens when she has babies? Who works? Who makes money to take care of the kids?”

“What if we don’t want kids?”

Your mother audibly gasps. “Don’t even say things like that. You come from an honorable and respected family. Not having children is social suicide for a woman in politics.”

“Bold of you to assume I care about politics and social standing.”

“So you want to be the breadwinner for your cook husband, but you don’t care about the very thing that could provide you with money?”

You bury your head in your hands and sigh. There’s practically no reasoning with your mother when she gets like this. She’s always been one to make everything about herself.

Your career has to be good enough to maintain her social standing.

Your marriage has to be politically upward.

Your have to have children so she can have grandchildren.

There are days where you feel like it’s her world that you’re just living in. You’re sure your father often feels the same way, but it’s rare that he argues against her like this. It seems that his appreciation for your and Sanji’s friendship is bolstering him this evening.

“I can’t deal with this anymore” your mother grumbles.

You lift your head from your hands to find your mother exiting the room.

“Come find me when you’re done being immature” she announces, unclear when she’s talking about you or your father. “You are not marrying Sanji. Don’t ever suggest it again.”

With that, she’s gone, the door slamming shut behind her. She leaves behind the same emptiness she always leaves. It feels like awkwardness, but a little more wicked, a little more damaging. Just like always, all you can do is sit and wait for the feeling to end.

You and your father sit in silence for what feels like too long. Neither of you speak. Neither of you even look at each other. The only sound to be heard is the pattering of the light rain on the windows of your home.

“Hon?”

You look up to your dad. There’s a melancholy expression on his face that you’ve never seen.

“I’m sorry” he tells you quietly. “Why didn’t you come to me with this? Why didn’t you say something?”

It’s so sick that you nearly laugh. “She just reacted like that and you’re asking me why I didn’t tell you sooner?”

You dad looks down and chuckles. “I guess. Why didn’t you tell just me?”

You shrug. “I don’t exactly want to talk about the boy I have a crush on with my dad.”

He waves you over then, patting the spot on the couch beside him. You rise to your feet and join him. He wraps his arm around you and pulls you close the moment you sit down. He feels like home, smells like home. If you were to close your eyes, you could imagine falling asleep in the family room and waking to him carrying you to your room.

“I like Sanji” he tells you, bringing you out of your thoughts. “I do. I think he respects you and he’s a nice kid.”

“Then why does mom have such an issue with me having a crush on him?”

He shakes his head. “Your mother comes from money. The only thing she knows is what she was taught. You need to give her grace when you’re trying to assimilate her with different ways of thinking.”

You snort. “And you’re just okay with that?”

“No” he reveals. “But everyone has something. You need to learn to live with the flaws of whoever you marry.”

“That doesn’t seem right.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

You lean your head on your father’s shoulder. He hugs you close, giving a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Dad?”

“Hm?”

You bury your face in his shoulder when you speak, hoping maybe that your words will be muffled enough so he wouldn’t hear you.

“I love him.”

“You okay, Pretty?”

You shake your head. “Sorry. Thinking.”

“What about, my darling?” Sanji wonders, the pet name making your head spin.

His voice is so sweet to you, gentle and soft like the warmth of crawling to bed after a long day. It’s your home, your comfort.

You lean your head on the edge if his bed, staring into those captivating blue eyes.

“Thinking about you” you tell him honestly. “You scared me, Sanji. You getting hurt is one thing, but you told me to leave you to die.”

He struggles then to roll onto his side. His groan is painful to you, making your already tired heart ache. He looks at you with sad eyes once he’s settled back in.

“I’m sorry, beautiful” he whispers. “My worst fear is something hurting you because of me. My worst nightmare is hurting you.”

You reach your hand to him and begin to trace little patterns on his arm. His eyes drift closed as you do, something resembling peace flooding his strained features.

“I will never leave you to die” you breathe. “Don’t ever ask me to again, Sanji.”

He appears to heed the seriousness in your voice, nodding his head. “Never again, my love.”

My love.

You could die. It would be less painful than this pulling in your heart, this desire to be with him, to touch him. You can lie all you want and say that you can handle the distance, handle the yearning, but it hurts. It’s hurt for ten years.

“Sanji?”

“Princess?”

You stroke the back of your finger down his cheek. He exhales, warm breath flooding over your palm.

“Are you sure you don’t remember anything about me finding you guys?” You press. “Nothing at all?”

He darts his eyes away, his lower lip falling between his teeth to be gently nibbled. You’d sell your soul for that to be your lip.

“No” he sighs. “Why? Did something else happen? You really don’t seem like yourself.”

Should you just let it go?

You shrug. “I…I don’t know if I should tell you, to be honest.”

He narrows his eyes. “If it’s bothering you, I’d like to know. I can fix whatever’s making you unhappy.”

It isn’t making you unhappy. It’s the one thing you’ve always wanted.

“You…”

“I?”

You can feel it now, the roughness of  his lips, the warmth of his breath against your tongue in the bitter cold.

You crave it. You feel mad in wanting for it.

“Sanji, you kissed me” you blurt out, the words sounding foreign on your tongue. “You wanted me to come closer and I thought you were gonna say something to me, but you kissed me, and then Doctorine showed up and you passed out.”

A silence falls over the two of you once all your loud babbling is done. Sanji is white as a sheet, just staring through you as though you’re no longer in front of him. His mouth is slightly agape. Those eyes are blank, none of their usual joy swimming in them.

You pull your hand away from his cheek. “Sanji?”

His eyes seem to focus back on you. He swallows harshly before forcibly hiking himself up onto his elbow.

You lay a hand on his shoulder, trying gently to guide him back to bed.

He doesn’t budge.

“I…I kissed you?”

You nod.

“I” -he points to himself- “kissed you?”

“Yes” you clarify. “You kissed me. On the lips.”

He reaches his hand up and grips his hair. There’s panic in his eyes, terror that has drained all the color from every inch of his skin.

“I am so - I mean, I didn’t mean to…oh my Gods. I didn’t mean to offend you or-or upset you. Oh gods. I-”

You begin to softly hush him then, cutting off his panic. Your hand comes up to cradle his icy skin.

“Sanji” you soothe. “It’s fine. You didn’t offend me.”

He shakes his head. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he was on the verge of tears.

“I am so, so sorry” he whispers. “I never meant to do anything like that without asking you. I don’t know what I was thinking, kissing you without your permission.”

You stroke your thumb along his cheek. “You have my permission.”

His eyes go so wide you swear they’re going to pop out of his head. “What?”

You heart is slamming. You can hear your blood flowing in your ears, but you ignore it.

“To kiss me” you tell him, your voice wavering. “You have my permission to kiss me again. If you want to, of course.”

From where your hand has wandered down to his neck, you can feel his pulse quickening with every passing second. He has no words for you. There’s pure shock washed over his eyes. His stare is glazed, locked on your face with a dropped jaw.

You try to give him a comforting smile.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask.

He licks his lips.

“Please. Please kiss me.”

You do as is requested of you. You close the distance, gently guiding Sanji’s lips to yours.

He doesn’t move at first, just lets you press your lips against his. They’re rough, dry. His mouth is hot, maybe from the fever, maybe from his insanely aggressive pulse.

He seems to catch on after a second. His hand comes up to stroke your cheek, pulling you closer so that he can truly feel you, taste you.

This can’t be happening right now. I’m kissing Sanji. I’m kissing the love of my life.

He hums into your lips. The vibration is stunning. You whine, leaning over the bed and letting your hand up into Sanji’s hair. You don’t care that it’s greasy. You don’t care that his teeth aren’t brushed and his skin is dry. He’s safe. He’s with you.

He’s kissing you.

The last thing you want to do is pull away from him, but you can feel his body beginning to shake from holding up his own weight. You pull your lips away only to have his give chase.

“Sanji” you giggle. “Come on. You need to lay down and rest.”

“I need to kiss you” he breathes. “I need to kiss you enough to make up for the last ten years of not kissing you, my sweet. I need to show you how much love I have bottled up for you.”

Your smile is so big that your jaw is starting to hurt. “Ji, I love you. We have a lot of time.”

He nuzzles his nose against yours. “I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I looked out the Baratie doors and saw you sitting there with your parents.”

You softly kiss the tip of his cold nose. “Lay down. Rest, my love.”

He gives a breathy chuckle. “Say that again.”

You shake your head, not quite understanding his words.

“My love?”

“Again.”

You kiss him before speaking against his lips. “My love.”

He finally, settles laying back down on his side and letting his head rest against the pillow. You rise to your feet.

“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” You wonder. “I don’t want to make it hard for you to sleep.”

He shakes his head, a nearly fearful expression on his face. “My queen should never sleep on the floor, not a day in her life. Get in bed.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You slide in beside him, his arm immediately coming up to wrap tightly around your waist.

It all feels right, perfect. His arm fits over you like a puzzle piece, like you were made to lay in the curve of his body.

“I love you, Sanji” you breathe.

He kisses the back of your head. “I love you. Rest. You deserve a good night of sleep.”

You snuggle even closer to Sanji, letting the beating of his heart lull you into your first sleep in days.

~

“You’ve barely slept in days.”

Nami puts her hands on your shoulders as she speaks, gently rubbing the aching muscles.

You shake your head. “I’m sleeping just fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Vivi and I can help take care of him, you know” she reminds you, her voice softer than it normally is. “He’s much better behaved now that he’s actually getting attention from a woman.”

You laugh, reaching up to softly ruffle Nami’s hair. “I’ve got him. I’m not exactly complaining that I get to cuddle and massage my boyfriend all day long.”

Nami gives you a laugh, rolling her eyes. “First of all, ew. Second of all, what’s it like? I mean, I know you’ve had a crush on him since forever.”

You feel a hot blush rising to your cheeks. Though it’s been a few weeks now since you and Sanji first told the crew you were dating, you still find yourself getting flustered whenever someone brings it up.

You shrug. “It uh, it seems normal, weirdly enough. We’ve been best friends for so long that the only thing that’s really different is uh, well all the kissing, I guess.”

Nami wrinkles her nose, but the smile remains on her face. “That’s disgusting. I’m happy for you, though.”

You grab the little tray up off the counter that you’ve been filling with water, snacks for Sanji, and his medicine. “Thanks. I’m sorry we’ve been kind of invading the bedroom lately. I promise that as soon he can sleep on his back, he’s going back to the boy’s room.”

She waves you off. “I don’t care. If he dies we have to go back to eating Zoro’s food. No one wants that.”

“Of course” you tell her, trying to stifle the laugh that’s coming up from your throat. “Tell everyone we’ll be up for dinner in a bit. I’m gonna wake him up.”

Nami nods, leaving you then as she makes her way from the kitchen.

Despite Sanji’s injuries, the last few weeks have been soft, peaceful. You spend your days cuddled in bed beside him, rubbing his back and listening to him tell you stories Zeff used to read to him as a little boy. You make him food and nap at his side. When he gets bored, the two of you head up to the deck where you bask together in the sun.

Sanji is napping away when you enter your bedroom. He snores softly, one arm hanging over the edge of the bed, both long legs sticking out from under the duvet.

You smile. This is all you’ve wanted, all you’ve ever dreamed of. Sanji has been your safety since you were just a child. You’ve never been satisfied dating, no one ever able to make you feel the way Sanji has made you feel. He’s stolen your heart, loved you so much. Who could ever compete?

You set the tray of Sanji’s refreshments on your bedside table and reach a hand out to gently jostle his shoulder.

“My love?” You hum. “Sweetheart, you need to get up and take your medicine so we can go have dinner.”

He yawns, one eye peeking open to look up at a you. Instantly, a smile lights up his face.

Gods, he’s your sun and stars.

“Hi” he begins. “How long was I sleeping?”

“A few hours. It was adorable. You were snoring.”

He scrunches up his nose, unable to hide the blush that rushes to his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Pretty. Do I keep you up with the snoring?”

You shake your head. “I love it. It reminds me that you’re next to me.”

The blush grows. You’ve loved seeing how much you can fluster him in the last few weeks. The smallest compliments make him blush. He whines and keens into every little kiss, every touch. It makes you want to kiss him until you die.

“Come on” you urge him. “You need to put something in your stomach and take your meds. Dr. Chopper’s orders.”

He snorts and hauls himself up until he’s leaning against your headboard. “The reindeer is a doctor. We’re gonna let the reindeer do surgery on us?”

You cock an eyebrow. “The reindeer already did surgery on you.”

Your lover visibly shudders. “With his hooves?”

“Worse. With his deer-man hands.”

Sanji leans his head back against the wall and groans, eliciting a booming laugh from your chest.

“Come on” you prod him. “It’s not that weird.”

He glances at you with faux terror in his eyes. “It is that weird” he assures you. “The reindeer saw me naked.”

“Chopper saw your ass.”

Another horrified groan, another belly laugh.

Gods, have you missed this goofy side of Sanji. There’s been a bit of a melancholic side to him for the last little while, maybe even since your journey with the crew began. You had always just brushed it off as homesickness, but in the days since he’s begun his bed-rest recovery, he’s been back to his charming, silly self.

“I love you when you’re like this” you inform him, flopping down on your belly beside him.

He downs the medication Chopper gave him before tilting his head at you. “Like what?”

“Happy. Rested.”

He looks down into his hands then, seeming to consider your words. On one hand, you know that the last few weeks have been a little anxiety inducing for him. Your other crew mates have had no choice but to start helping out in the kitchen, and losing control over his most sacred space always leaves Sanji in a sour mood.

On the other hand, you know he was desperately in need of some rest. He doesn’t lay his head down at night until he’s sure the kitchen is thoroughly cleaned and the next day’s breakfast is prepped. He wakes up before the sun to ensure that everyone on the crew has hot coffee and a filling breakfast the instant they roll out of bed.

He lays his hand on your cheek then, beginning to stroke your lips with his thumb. His hands smell strange, like berries and summer.

Was he using the hand cream in your bedside table?

“I don’t wanna go back to sleeping in the idiot room” he tells you, the insult coming off his lips so softly, so sweetly. “How am I supposed to sleep alone when I know the most beautiful woman in the world is sleeping right down the hall? How can I go back to waking up to Zoro’s ugly mug when I’ve been seeing you every morning?

You kiss the calloused fingers that are running along your lips.

(Yes, he’s been stealing your hand cream.)

“When you do your watches at night, we’ll have slumber parties” you propose. “We’ll drink tea and eat snacks.”

He smiles. “As much as I adore the idea of tea under the stars together, there’s nothing I’ll miss more than holding you while you sleep.”

You smile. As much as you want Sanji better, you hate that he’ll be leaving your room in the next few nights. You spent so long dreaming he was beside you only to wake in despair, clutching at your pillows as if you could magically pull him from the sheets. The thought of being in that place again, reaching to hold him and finding nothing but a cold bed is enough to make you panic just a bit.

“I’ll ask Nami if I can have weekly sleepovers” you decide. “I’ll pay her. She’ll probably love that.”

Sanji boops the tip of your nose. “A genius idea, my brilliant love.”

You glance at the clock on the wall then, the sudden twinge in your stomach reminding you that the two of you are late for dinner.

“Come on” you urge him, swinging your legs off the bed and stretching your arms up over your head. “Let’s go eat dinner. Luffy’s gonna eat everything before we have a chance to have any.”

Sanji gives a melodramatic frown then. “Hm. Can I stay here and kiss you instead? Your lips are better than anything Moss can throw together.”

Oh, that’s tempting. Over the last few weeks, Sanji has been nothing but chaste and a gentleman with you. He doesn’t touch until he’s told he can. He doesn’t kiss you with any sort of vigor until you’ve signaled it’s alright. He holds your hand. He holds doors open for you. He pulls chairs out for you. Unbelievably to you, getting him to make out with you the few times he has took a bit of effort. He feared that every movement of his hands would scared you off. He was worried you wouldn’t like the taste of his lips, the way his tongue moved, the roughness of his hands.

He tasted like cigarettes and mint.

The two of you had a good laugh about your best friend’s tongue all the sudden being in your mouth.

The calloused skin of his hands reminded you of every dish he’d ever cooked for you, every fight he’d ever fought to protect you.

“I wish” you tell him. “I think they’re all going to grab a drink at that pub in town after dinner. I’ll volunteer to watch the ship, and we can spend some time together.”

His smile, somehow, grows.

If you could spend the rest of your life staring at the joy on his face, you would.

[empresskylo]

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 4 ⬅ch. 3

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. forced proximity. blood, war, and death. wc 5.3k. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | this one was fun to write!! it's a bit longer than previous chapters too. thank you for all the messages and ideas for this fic, i hope i do it justice! and as usual, feedback is appreciated <3

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

...al mazrah…

you sat trembling on board the razor-1, your bag tucked between your legs, wedged nervously between two insanely muscled marines that made you feel minuscule in comparison. ghost stood as the aircraft began to land and soap gave you a reassuring look from across the terminal. 

you undid your seatbelt and you felt your fingertips vibrate as they clung to your tactical vest, all of your adrenaline was starting to make you feel sick. 

“this is capture or kill,” soap had said to you. “but we need him alive.”

��that’s where i come in,” you mumbled under your breath. 

soap nudged you on the shoulder. “don’t worry so much. you’ll hang back while we infiltrate the base hassan is camped up in. then you can swoop in to save the day when i have him bleeding out on the floor.” you rolled your eyes at soap’s confidence. “easy.”

“right,” you mocked, trying to hide the terror that was slowly seeping into your bones. 

ghost began rambling off orders, the aircraft shaking as it made contact with the ground, and you tried to instill it in your brain that you had nothing to be so fearful about; this was just another mission for the guys. they did things like this all the time for the sake of their country. but the fact that you had never been on the frontline before kept niggling your mind. you began to wonder if you were really made for this kind of shit.

it wasn’t that long ago you had wanted nothing more than to join the military to help wounded soldiers when you realized you had nothing left for you back home. after your friend died in combat, an injury that could have been mended if they had enough medics in their arsenal, you decided to put on a brave face and save soldiers just like him. regardless of what you thought about war, you wanted to be a medic, meaning neutral ground. you were there to mend the fallen, it didn’t matter to you what side they were on.

and as much as you didn’t like to brag or be filled with a sense of pride–it always made you uncomfortable–it was just a technicality to say you were at the top of your class. the best of the best , as price had said. 

“keep up,” ghost grunted to you as he turned to exit the craft, walking down the ramp. you shook yourself out of your head-pounding thoughts and quickly followed the group of men out of the ship, leaving team alpha behind. 

you stumbled onto the ground, the strays of your hair that stuck out from under your beanie beneath your helmet fluttered in the wind as the ship took off to take team alpha downrange. 

“razor-1, all bravo deployed. moving to secondary hlz,” the pilot said over the comms for everyone to hear. 

your eyes locked onto soap’s, his gun at the ready. he nodded his head, urging you to follow him. you both made your descent with the rest of bravo, willing your hands not to shake as you held your gun up, your night vision goggles set over your eyes.

“all stations- razor-1 is bracketed, we’re getting lit!” the pilot’s anxious voice echoed in your ears. “incoming- flares! flares!”

you watched as the horizon lit up in front of you, hustling to stay beside soap. 

“shit that was close!” another voice spoke. 

and then, an urgent “second missile!”

you tensed, scurrying after the group of men who crept down the small incline. things were picking up fast. you had barely been out of the ship–it was certainly less than two minutes–and explosions and gunfire were already filling the air.

“oh fuck…!”

“razor-1 going down! we’re going down!”

your teeth clenched as you switched into a run, all your gear slowing you down and making you huff your breaths. 

“stay close!” you heard soap yell in your ear. 

you nodded even though you knew he couldn’t see you. the smell of ash began to fill your senses.

“hold up,” ghost commanded. the team stopped, a small explosion erupting at the bottom of the hill where building 1 was located.

“alpha, what’s your status?”

coughing and wheezing breaths harrowingly echoed on the comms. 

“alpha, how copy…?” ghost said with a bit more urgency. 

“bravo- alpha is immoblie. multiple critical!” a brief pause sounded between the man’s reply. “oh, shit! we’re taking effective fire!”

you clenched your gun. what if you, or soap, or ghost had been assigned alpha? you sucked in a breath of air and tried to calm your racing heart. 

“alpha, we’re moving to building 1. hold tight.” ghost’s voice was so smooth as he spoke like this type of shit was a regular occurrence to him. the same candace as someone who was greeting a friend in a coffee shop. his nonchalance sent shivers up your spine. 

“ghost, we need to secure that crash site now,” soap spoke.

“first, we clear for hassan, that takes the heat off alpha. then we secure the crash site. clear?”

“roger that.”

“let’s move.”

ghost, hustling towards the rocky house, swept into your line of sight. soap turned his head and when he saw you were close behind him, he took off after ghost. 

“force up to the house.” ghost whispered. 

you stumbled over the uneven terrain, the weight of all your gear and the obstruction the goggles caused was making it difficult to see. 

the sound of shuffling pants, boots crunching the pebbled earth, and the slight hum of machinery was the only sound in your ears when no one was speaking. you felt your chest tighten with nerves. 

suddenly, with your body realizing the height of the situation, you began to steady. you were good under pressure. exceptionally good. this is why you were here , you told yourself. you could do this .

you heard an enemy soldier shouting something in the distance that you couldn’t quite make out–he must have been speaking arabic.

the group rounded up outside the house and ghost scaled the edge of the building. a man handed him a sledgehammer. “breacher up,” he said faintly before he slammed it into the wooden door. you felt a chill catch along the hairs of your arms as he broke open the door in one swift motion, you could see his muscles taut even through his thick layers of clothes. 

“sweep through,” ghost called. soap was at the doorway and began shooting.

you tried to pay attention to your surroundings as you waited for soap and ghost to clear the way. the blazing fire in the distance sent eerie shadows along the buildings and barren trees. 

“first deck clear! negative on hassan,” a bravo said. 

another replied, “copy that, second deck’s clear!”

“rog,” ghost grunted. 

you slipped into the building behind the men, watching as they scanned their surroundings and made themselves safe behind barriers. 

“contact! building 2!” a voice shouted. 

you stumbled back against a storage cabinet as gunfire ricocheted off the walls. 

“they know we’re here!” ghost shouted. in a startling motion, he turned to you, spying you immediately as you shifted your weight. “stay down!”

you nodded and huddled behind a workbench. the men began shooting rounds at the men in building 2. the sharp metallic clank of a bullet hitting a metal desk off to your right made you jump, the shell clinking on the floor like a fallen coin. you felt your eyes widen slightly. 

“all bravo, move on building 2!” ghost stated, his voice a welcoming sound through your headset. you tried to focus on his voice instead of the shouts of men and blasting echoes of weapons.

ghost and someone from alpha spoke to each other as the men started their way towards building 2. soap appeared beside you and helped you up. “you alright, lass?”

you nodded, “m’good.” you brushed yourself off and followed soap as he led you out of the building and towards another that was roughly 100 feet before your squad. you could see ghost already approaching the second building, his feet shuffling as he stayed out of the line of sight of the open doorway. 

shouts in arabic made you stagger as you walked. gunshots in the distance followed by the occasional explosion filled the otherwise gorgeous night. you slid your goggles up and glanced at the starry sky. if it wasn’t for the bloodshed unfolding before you, you could easily see yourself laying out on one of these hills, the cool night air ruffling your hair as you watched the stars–they were so bright without all the light pollution.

soap slid up to one of the open doors and motioned for you to huddle beside another fellow sergeant. soap was bundled in his uniform, his sleeves rolled up, and his night vision goggles on–same as you. you wondered if you looked as intimidating as he did. 

“prep for breach,” ghost said. 

“7-1 moving interior,” soap responded. 

he quickly shot down three enemy soldiers before disappearing inside the building. you followed in pursuit, your heart hurting as you saw slouched bodies pool with blood, even if you knew they were the enemy. you hurried after soap and caught a glimpse of ghost using his knife to slice into a man with barely any effort. blood began to coat his gloves. 

you crept behind soap as he slowly moved up the stairs to the second floor. gunshots repeatedly fired in front of the two of you. 

“i’m hit!” a bravo shouted. 

you dashed up the stairs but soap pulled you back before you reached the top, gripping your utility vest to bring you into him. “hey! wait till i clear it!” 

“okay, then hurry up!” you huffed as soap went ahead of you and leaned around the corner, taking out the men in the other room. 

you used that time to scurry off behind him and out onto the terrace where the injured soldier had crawled in order to get out of firing range. 

you crouched beside him and slung your bag off your shoulder. “here,” you said as you pressed a cloth to his bullet wound. “hold pressure!”

a loud shotgun in the next room made you jump. you turned to look, your hands deep in your bag. you spotted soap and let out a breath of relief knowing it wasn’t him at the end of the barrel. 

you heard soap’s footsteps return out onto the deck. “one’s in the hallway,” the soldier said to soap. 

you worked deftly to pack and wrap the wound as soap slid off down the hall and you heard a strangled cry as he knifed someone. 

“ghost, enemy rockets down,” soap said in your ear. 

“thanks,” the man before you mumbled as his hand replaced yours where he began to hold the bandage. you heard soap speaking in the next room.

“the house is clear. time to go,” ghost muttered in your ear. 

“it just grazed you,” you said to the sergeant. “you should be alright as long as we limit the bleeding.”

soap appeared beside you moments later, helping the man up as he limped. “you good to walk?” 

the man nodded. 

“all bravo circle up outside,” ghost commanded. 

“let’s go,” soap said down to you. 

you ran after soap down the steps and out into the field. you spotted the crash site not too far ahead and you felt your ears ring seeing the formidable tower of flames in the backdrop.

it didn’t take long to approach the ship and you followed soap and ghost as they entered the terminal.

“we got five k.i.a., one wounded. it’s just my gun and i’m low on ammo.” 

you slid past soap and rushed to the man on the ground. the sergeant was knocked out cold and you quickly tried to make a mental note of his vitals. you tried to remember his name, but with everything that was occupying your brain right now, it eluded you.

you knew the others were talking, but you didn’t hear them as you honed in on the man bleeding out before you. 

“get your gun on that tree line,” you finally deciphered through your hazy thoughts as ghost spoke.

you looked over your shoulder as loud explosions went off and shook the craft. 

“fuck, man! fuck,” the alpha said. 

“you called it, lt.!” soap said as he aimed his gun out the ship’s window. 

as you bandaged the man, ghost and soap began firing rapidly. 

“they’re getting close. secure the ramp!”

your heart felt like it was in your throat. another bomb went off and the craft shook violently. you yelped, falling sideways. 

“sergeant!” ghost called. you pushed yourself up and tried to orient yourself. ghost shouted your name when you wouldn’t reply. you looked up at him. “you alright?”

you stared at him before your eyes flickered to soap who was shooting his gun out the window. 

“are you alright?” ghost said more forcefully, his frame bending in half, his face now in your direct line of sight to grab your attention. it hadn’t registered that ghost was talking to you. you were only frazzled from the rocking of the craft, the explosions ringing in your ear, but you were otherwise safe behind ghost and soap, so you weren’t sure why he was so set on making sure you were okay. 

however, ghost seemed to not be able to accept that you were okay until you verbally told him. 

“yes,” you said faintly. ghost turned back to aiming his gun out the window without a second thought.

after another minute of gunfire, there was a lull. 

“we clear?” soap asked. 

“for now…” ghost replied. 

you finished wrapping the arm of the bleeding soldier, and assessed that he had hit his head and had knocked himself out. 

“alpha, you’re with us.” ghost commanded as he took off out of the ship. you and the men followed. you spoke over the comms to let the others know you left a soldier back in the crash site. he was wounded, but would be okay. 

“those fuckers used us as bait, didn’t they?” alpha 0-2 said. 

“they’re well supplied and fighting relentlessly. thanks to hassan,” ghost said unhappily. 

soap looked back at you. “keep up. we’re gonna need ya.”

you hustled behind him, your pistol at the ready.

the lot of you ran a wide berth, sprinting towards building 3, hoping hassan was inside. the sharp whistle of a bullet spiraled past you. 

“a.q. sniper on the roof! get down!” ghost shouted to everyone. before you even had a chance to move, ghost was pushing you down into the grass. you gasped as you were squashed beneath him, laid out on the dirt. he held his gun up and aimed at the roof as he lay beside you. 

“soap, take out the shooter. rest o’ ya stay low until we’re all clear!” ghost said, not acknowledging the fact that he had just pressed you flat to the ground, his body half covering yours. 

soap shot a bullet. “sniper down!”

ghost rolled off of you and stood up, giving you a quick hand as he heaved you upright. he didn’t even look at you before he took off running towards building 3. your entire body was tingling.

it looked like a gallant eruption of fireworks above the building as enemy bullets fired toward you. air support lighting up the sky. soap was a few feet behind you and picked off the snipers one by one. you followed close behind the others as you approached the building. 

soap was quick to follow, coming up from behind and going up the stairs and into the decrepit house. “7-1, moving interior,” he said. 

glass exploding rippled in the building and you peeked inside to see soap shooting someone down. 

“check the bodies, we need positive i.d. on hassan,” ghost said as he slid off to go in the right-side entrance. 

you hunched over slightly as you followed behind him, looking down at ghost’s trail of corpses as you did, checking for hassan. 

“anyone have eyes on hassan?” ghost asked after a minute. 

“negative on hassan,” soap replied. 

you tripped over rubble and fell to your knees with a huff. “shit,” you muttered to yourself. your foot was lodged in the concrete chunks. you tried to pull it free but that just shifted the rubble further, a large piece falling over your ankle. it was too heavy for you to move yourself. the house shook.

“sergeant,” ghost said, making you look up. he had backtracked when he realized you were no longer behind him. 

“i can’t get my foot loose,” you said. 

arabic echoed down the hall making your head snap up in alert. ghost began moving faster, squatting down as he approached you and heaving the rubble aside to get your foot out in one easy motion. 

“ow, fuck,” you said, biting your lip to try and muffle your sounds. 

ghost’s eyes flickered to yours before he moved the last piece that set your foot free. 

the rest of bravo had already moved to the antithetical end of the house when the voices began to close the distance. 

“shit,” ghost mumbled, pulling you up. he did so with such force that you collided into him, your hands landing against his chest with a gasp.

the men sounded close and you counted at least four different voices. their candace rose as they edged closer, like they were right around the corner when you were moved by ghost and suddenly faced with darkness. 

“wha–” 

ghost’s hand covered your mouth to silence you, pushing you against a wall. your eyes adjusted and you saw a sliver of light pour in through the slats of the door. ghost had pulled you into a closet. a very tiny closet at that. 

your chest was pressed flesh against ghost’s, the room far too small to hold yourself and ghost–who was already too big to fit in a closet on his own, let alone one with you. 

you could feel his chest move up and down as he steadied his breathing. your hands were on his utility vest. the voices of the men were now right outside the door. your fingers gripped tight on his vest as you tried to be as quiet as possible. he slowly let his hand fall to his side when he could trust you to be silent.

why wasn’t ghost attacking them? you’ve seen him take down trained men in less than two seconds. so why did he decide to hide now? was four too many for him? you doubted it, but you also tried not to think of the logistics because all that swam through your mind was how close ghost was to you. there was almost no space between your bodies, his front flesh against yours as he pushed you against the wall. 

a rectangle of light slid across ghost’s face, illuminating his eyes which were visible now that his goggles were turned up on his helmet, making the brown in them gleam. like he could feel you staring, he looked down at you and you felt your face heat. you shifted your stance, trying to widen the distance between your bodies but your back was already flat against the wall. there was nowhere to go. 

“what’re you doin’?” he said quietly.

you glared at him in response as you continued to slightly shift your body, wanting to at least have it so your side was pressed against him and not your front. you tried to shuffle your feet, wanting to turn, to push him back a bit, but you ended up just rubbing against him instead.

“quit squirming!” he finally hissed, his hands coming out to rest on either side of your head. 

well now you were just stuck in an awkward stance so you tried to move your hips a bit, wanting to pull them away from ghost and back to how you were originally standing, but with the limited space, you were essentially just moving your hips against his own. 

ghost growled in his throat and you stopped moving and let your breathing steady. you felt something hard press against your stomach and your eyes widened as you stared at ghost’s chest. 

oh my god, you thought.

you couldn’t help yourself as your eyes flickered to his own, his eyes already pouring into you. your breath got caught in your throat. “i told ya to quit fuckin’ wiggling ‘round,” he said as if that made things more appropriate. 

a flash of heat ebbed through your core. you told yourself that this was purely a physical thing– men could get turned on by a goddamn gust of wind if it hit them the right way. this had nothing to do with the fact that it was you pressed against him. this kind of bodily response would have happened no matter who it was against him.  

you went to clench your thighs together in nerves and heat but you were stopped by ghost’s thigh. you realized the ceiling in there was too short for him and he had to hunch over, his knees bending and leaning on the wall between your own legs. oh my god , you thought again.

your face went red hot. fuck, of course you were stuck with ghost in the world’s smallest closest.

ghost’s eyes traced your face when he felt your legs press against his own, a sudden flare igniting in them. 

oh no, did he think you were… you quickly worried. you wondered if ghost could tell you had been squeezing your legs together to subdue the quick sweeping sensation of arousal you got–this was not the time or place!

ghost’s head shifted ever so slightly closer to your own and his eyes were now disguised by the shadows of the closet. you could feel his warm breath against your face as he panted through his mask. you were trapped. he had you pinned, his large arms encasing your head, his leg between your own, his face inching closer to yours. 

you felt your breath get lost in your throat, your mind suddenly going blank. 

“ghost! ghost, where are you?” soap’s voice broke through both of your ears. 

ghost halted any and all movement, his eyes flickering between your own. you realized you no longer heard iranian voices and wondered how long the men had been out of range. 

it was as if ghost realized that at the same time you did because he pushed away from you and slid out the door, into the dusty and war-torn living room. now that he was away from you and not clogging your brain, you thought you might have imagined the way he had been edging toward you.

“deck one secure. any i.d. on hassan?” ghost spoke, his voice strained. 

you slid out of the closet behind him. “negative, lt.” soap replied. 

ghost turned to you as you stumbled into him, your ankle giving out at the most opportune time. 

“ shit ,” you grunted. ghost turned his head to look at you, his eyes glowing in the flames that brewed inside the building. “sorry,” you muttered. 

“keep close,” he said to you. you felt your chest ignite. you had to control your eyes from shifting to his waist to see what you felt moments earlier. you were surprised your willpower was strong enough. 

ghost led you around the bend and up a set of stairs, soap appearing beside you both. “pushing second deck.”

you slid on your night vision goggles and watched as ghost scurried to the side of a door when he made it to the top of the steps. a man opened it and walked through, ghost grabbing him and slamming him against the wall, the man’s gun pressed to his chest. in two swift motions, ghost shot his abdomen then his head, letting the body sink down. 

jesus . you always knew ghost was a ruthless killer, but that was more so knowledge in theory. it was another thing entirely to watch it unfold before your own eyes. 

you followed the men as they stealthed into the next room. you heard soap’s gun go off, and then ghost’s voice. “clear. hassan’s everywhere…” 

you could hear hassan’s voice as it played in the distance, seemingly from every room. a video on loop of him speaking nonsense sat in the shadows like a horror movie. you felt a chill run down your legs realizing that no matter which way you turned, hassan’s voice was not far off. 

“everywhere but here,” you mumbled. ghost’s eyes scanned you up and down before trailing on into the next room. you swore every hair on your body stood on its ends. 

“the perpetrators of general ghorbrani’s execution must be sentenced to the death penalty and the world must witness the death of those responsible!” hassan’s iranian accent sang through a crackling radio. 

you and soap poked around, not finding anything of use, apart from soap spotting hassan’s uniform, meaning he had recently been here. 

“so he was here,” you muttered.

“lost him when we secured the crash site,” ghost spoke, looking between you and soap.

“are you sayin’ we shouldn’t have helped?” soap asked.

ghost averted his eyes on his next words as if he didn’t like what he was about to say. “choices have consequences…” his eyes gazed over to yours, burning holes through his skull mask. you could see the disappointment and guilt that was attached to his statement. you were surprised at how much emotion he was able to exude through just his eyes. you wondered if he knew that. 

“all bravo- we got movement out here,” someone said over the comms. 

ghost reached up to click his receiver, his eyes still on yours, “on the way.”

you followed behind the two men as the continued to speak. as you made it out behind the house, ghost spoke, “what do we got?”

“a warehouse. roll up doors open. heard somethin’ inside.”

ghost spoke with a sense of assuredness, “copy, let’s clear it.”

you trailed the men as they all took off towards the large warehouse, ghost and soap hoping that hassan was nestled inside. 

you rested your back against the building as the men started inside, gunshots and smoke bombs going off as they fought the enemy planted in the warehouse. 

“all alone?” a husky voice with a thick iranian accent spoke. you looked to your right, your hands grabbing your gun, startled, when a man disarmed you in a quick, fluid motion. 

you yelped as his hand wrapped around your neck, pressing you forcefully to the exterior wall. you saw static stars begin to spread across your vision. 

shit, shit, shit.

your legs flailed as you tried to kick and squirm your way out of his grip. his hand held you tighter. you swore your feet began to lift off the ground. recalling all the training you had done the last two weeks, you propped your knee up, bending it as much as you could against your chest, then shot it out with all the strength you could manage. the man stumbled, releasing you, as he collapsed onto the ground. 

“eahira” bitch . he scrambled to get up and you panicked, trying to get your knife out of it’s sheath. 

before the man could grab you again, his body just a hair from your own, a bullet pierced his skull. flecks of his blood squirted across your exposed face like red freckles. you stood in complete shock, the man sinking to the ground with a thump.

it was ghost that replaced the dead man, his hands resting on your shoulder, his deep voice saying your name repeatedly. 

you finally looked up at him. “are you okay?” you swear you could see a bit of pride in his eyes as he took you in.

you nodded weakly, wincing as your neck muscles throbbed in pain from the small movement. 

ghost yanked your mask up to look at your neck, already beginning to bruise. 

his eyes darkened as they met yours again. “if that fucker wasn’t already dead, i’d tie him up and rip off his limbs one by one for that.”

you couldn’t help the astonished laugh from escaping your lips at the exorbitant threat. then a pang of heat surfaced when you realized ghost had made no such threats as his other men were picked off. he also didn’t seem to rush to their aid immediately. yet here he was… with you. 

“hassan,” you said meekly. 

ghost’s hands left your shoulders as he straightened. you felt a bit of sadness at the loss of contact. 

“not here. found an arsenal of ballistic missiles. american missiles.”

your eyes widened at the information. “and shepperd…”

“already alerted.”

you nodded. “so that’s it then?” you asked, referring to the war trail you and your men left behind with nothing to show for it. 

ghost gave a nod back. “we’re one step closer. we’ll find him.” 

you don’t know why you took his word with such ease, but you knew he meant what he said. ghost wouldn’t rest until he had hassan in his clutches. 

day broke by the time a humvee arrived to carry you all back to base. the injured men were loaded on one, the rest of bravo and alpha on another. there were significantly fewer men than when you started this hours ago. you felt a heavy feeling swarm your chest. 

you were busy making sure your bag was closed and that you had all your things in it when you looked up and saw ghost step into the back of the vehicle. 

you scurried to catch up, the last one as you climbed into the back. as you went to stand, the humvee took off, making you stumble and lose balance. 

fuck , was the last thought you had as you felt yourself falling backward out of the vehicle. your arms flailed, trying to grab onto something, when a hand gripped your vest, yanking you forward and onto the humvee. 

you looked up in relief to find ghost glaring at you. his hand was still tight around your tactical vest, the other men closest to the back were out of their seats in an effort to grab you. but of course, ghost got there first. 

his eyes bore into your own, an odd wave of spite in them. 

you knew it was your fault for dilly-dallying, but was he really going to be upset at you for almost falling out of the vehicle? it should cause more annoyance than anger, really. 

you gulped and ghost released you, moving back to his seat. you stared after him until you felt soap touch your wrist. “sit,” he mumbled. 

you focused on him instead of your lieutenant and sat in the empty seat beside soap. 

you shifted your bag so it was on your lap, the men around you silent, all of them exhibiting a mix of disappointment in their mission and exhaustion. 

you felt his eyes on you–something that seemed to happen a lot lately. you tried to resist, but you looked in his direction and met his gaze. you thought he’d look away, but he held you in a challenge across the truck. he still had all his gear on when most others had stripped some of theirs off.

he sat a bit forward, resting his arms on his knees as he glared at you. 

you felt your heartbeat race and you felt like you might be sick with all the adrenaline running through you today–it couldn’t be healthy.

you finally coward away and looked down at your bag. a looming feeling coursed through your body. for whatever reason, the moment he pulled you into the truck felt like it was a breaking point for him. he was right back to hating you. despising everything you did. you felt yourself shrink in on yourself.

you never felt his eyes leave you the entire way back. 

chapter 5 ➡

[multific]

A Love Without Words

Paul Atreides x Mute!Reader

Summary: Destiny has its way to make us suffer. It gives us power but it can take it away just as easily. 

You and Paul grew up together.

It was decided at a young age that you were to become his wife when the time comes.

Lady Jessica remembered the day he took his young boy, barely two years old into the healers where you were just born. 

Lady Jessica remembered the day he told his son that the baby laying in the crib will be his wife. 

Paul didn't understand it back then. Of course, he didn't, he was too young.

You soon grew up to be a strong woman, strong with the Voice. Your power and ability to use the Voice became evident at a young age.

You loved to sing as well.

It is how Paul fell in love with you. One morning, he heard a voice, oh so sweet, singing. He knew he needed to find the person. He needed to know who it was. And he found you. Baking away as you sang. Paul was only sixteen, yet he found the love of his life.

---

But then, things turned for the worst. On your sixteenth birthday, you celebrated with your family.

Your family was attacked.

The Duke himself went to help but it was all in vain. Your parents were dead, and they found you in terrible conditions.

"My Lady, she is stable now, her vitals are good but... My Lady... she lost her voice." Paul and her mother looked at the nurse as she handed them a note.

'I tried to save them, I used the Voice but I failed. And now, I lost my parents and the Voice.'

Paul looked up at the nurse, demanding answers.

"She can't speak anymore, she had gone mute."

Mute.

Your beautiful voice.

Your songs.

Were all gone?

The voice that made him laugh and smile. The voice that talked so sweetly to him.

Was it truly gone?

Paul looked at his mother who had sadness in her eyes.

All she could say was "At least she is still alive."

But it was no comfort for Paul.

He headed into the room, finding you alone in bed, but you weren't sleeping.

He didn't say anything, he didn't know what to say.

So, he sat down beside your bed and held your hand as you silently cried.

Paul wanted nothing more than to burn the world. The world that took so much from you. 

You swore on that hospital bed that no matter what, you won't let this fully break you.

It is what your attackers would have wanted, and you weren't going to give them the satisfaction of winning.

They came into your home to kill you and your family due to your closeness to the Duke. Everyone knew about your engagement to Paul, and they wanted to attack where it would hurt.

And it hurt. 

It really did hurt Paul.

You were moved into his room, his mother decided to marry you to him earlier. Saying in order to keep your title and the power your House once had, you had to be married.

It was disgusting to hear that after the day of your attack, many nobles offered their daughters up for marriage to Paul.

But there you were, only a week after you buried your parents and your voice, you were standing in a white dress getting married. 

You tried to be happy, after all, you did love Paul with all of your heart. 

But you were still grieving.

Slowly, you started to heal, Paul and Lady Jessica did help you a lot. While the Lady tried to help you get your voice back, Paul wanted you to accept the fact that you lost it.

You felt like you were pulled in two directions.

Then the following week, during your daily training with Lady Jessica, you finally had enough.

'I don't wish to continue. I lost my voice and I'm coming to terms with it, Paul helps a lot. I understand that the Voice is a gift. Unfortunately, I have lost my gift, so I'm trying to find a new purpose.'

Read the note you handed to Lady Jessica before exiting the room.

She didn't argue. She knew she was holding onto something which she couldn't save. She knew, but at least you both tried.

Now, you needed a new purpose, and motivation to keep you going. And you found it in Paul. 

Paul was a kind soul. Attentive, affectionate and caring. He loved you like no other. 

And you loved him. You loved that even though you were only a shadow of the woman you once were, he loved you.

You often found yourself in the library, reading or by the window looking out.

Your daily routine was simple. And every day you had dinner with your now-family. The Duke, Lady Jessica and Paul. 

You never really paid attention to the conversations, it was mainly the Duke speaking with Paul 

Then, during one dinner, something caught your attention. Something the Duke said.

A child.

The Duke asked Paul when does he plan on having a child, an heir. 

It shocked you. It really did.

Considering that you and Paul only spent one night intimate. It was the best night of your life. Even if he said he didn't have any experience, you didn't mind. 

You were still rather nervous around him.

Thankfully you had your notepad with you. Everyone watched as you wrote something before a servant stepped up and you handed him the note. He read it out loud.

"It was rather difficult for my mother to conceive. It is why I am an only child. I'm afraid I might have the same difficulty, My Duke. I sincerely apologise." as he finished you bowed your head and everyone was so speechless it made you nervous. You did just admit to a flaw in your bloodline. But it would be better for them to know. You motioned for the servant who gave you back the notebook and you wrote. "I do wish to be a mother, however. But I do not want to rush my husband with such duty. My mother often said, 'It will happen when the time is right.'" 

"You are such a sweetheart, Y/N." said the Duke. "I remember your father often reminding me of your mother's... issues. I simply asked because the council was also curious. I do understand however, it is not their place to ask."

You knew that a baby could be a good purpose for you. But you also didn't want to have a baby and then have this feeling of only giving birth because you lost your purpose. You wished to have a child out of love, not duty.

While you did understand it was one of your duties. You also didn't wish the child to have this sense that you only gave birth because of that reason.

And somehow Paul understood that. But he also desperately wanted to give you more. Give you his voice in exchange for yours. He wanted to give you the entire Galaxy.

It is why he spoke up and told his father, when you two are ready for a child, you shall have one.

You appreciated Paul taking your side.

Later that evening, you were in the bath, enjoying the water before Paul would soon return.

You smiled to yourself, imagining a young boy, hair like Paul's running around, giggling and calling you Mommy.

It was beautiful.

But you knew you had a low chance. And babies are supposed to hear their mommies talk.

You will never be able to do that. And it hurt. 

You really needed something to take up your mind. You felt like you have read every book in there. You felt like you explored all rooms.

You sank deeper into the tub when your servants arrived and helped you clean and got you dressed. 

"How was your day?" asked Paul as he entered the room and sat down on your shared bed. You offered him a smile and a nod. "Great, I have a surprise for you." 

You grabbed your note, 'Now?'

"I was supposed to wait until tomorrow morning, but I can't."

He grabbed your hand and guided you down the halls and into the garden, there you noticed something in the back.

It looked like a...

Paul guided you closer. It was harder to see in the dark.

It was a green house, made out purely from glass. 

"I just thought... Mother said ladies usually enjoy gardens and flowers and I thought you might like it." you silently walked inside, looking at all the possibilities as all trays were still empty.

Paul stood in silence as he watched you looking around. You soon noticed a corner where there were sofas placed. You walked over and soon turned to paul.

'Is this for me?'

"Of course! You can decorate or plant however you like. Tomorrow a planner will come and you can tell her what you would like."

'This is wonderful, Paul.'

"I know you have been feeling lost since your voice and parents were taken from you. I hope this will give you a new goal to take your mind off of things."

You wanted to cry, you walked over to him and hugged him. Silently thanking him.

"I hope, every time I come in here I will see you smile." you pulled away and smiled at him. He smiled back. "I love you so much, Y/N."

You placed your palm on his heart.

It was your way of telling him that you felt the same, that you loved him just as much.

It might have been a love without words, but Paul understood it perfectly.

Your eyes shined every time you looked at him, your smile was always so kind and pure.

He slowly leaned down to kiss your perfect lips. 

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[jesterwriting]

hi hi i saw your requests are open! can i request something fluffy or angsty maybe a little spicy with law, where you tell him that “all i want is you” fem reader or gn reader i don’t mind! thank you🩷

pairing: law x gn!reader

contents: angst, hurt/comfort, jealous!law, you're both kinda tipsy, making out to heartfelt conversation, complimenting law because he needs it, probably ooc

word count: .9k words

note: i dont know why, but this gave me so much trouble to write it was crazy. literally gator wrestled these words in a pile of mud. i got death rolled. but i'm happy with the results and i hope you are too anon <33 thank you so much for the request! :3

playlist: science/visions by chvrches

Law kissed you like you were about to disappear.

Hungry lips trailed down your neck to your collarbone where he nipped and sucked at your sensitive flesh. You sighed, tangling your fingers in his hair to pull him closer. His hands were cold as they slid up your ribcage, you couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled from your lips.

Asshole. He wouldn’t think it was very funny if you tickled him mid-makeout. To keep from jamming your hands under his armpits in retribution, you busied yourself by pressing kisses to whatever part of Law your lips could reach. He groaned when you nipped at the shell of his ear, grinding his crotch against yours.

If you knew getting Law jealous would result in something so steamy, you’d do it more often. While you didn’t classify your conversation with that friendly bar patron as flirting, judging by Law’s insistence to mark every inch of skin he could find, he certainly did. You threw your head back and moaned when his teeth met the junction where your neck and shoulder met, soothing the bite with gentle laps of his tongue.

“Jeez, what’s gotten into you,” You managed to say between gasps. “Are you trying to eat me alive?”

He didn’t look up. Not a chuckle, not a glance, not even a smirk. After leaving your throat thoroughly bruised, Law moved onto your chest.

“I’ll get to that later,” He finally answered.

There was something off about Law. He refused to meet your eyes, completely single minded in his quest of turning you into a giant bruise. It wasn’t until his hands cupped your face did you notice that they were trembling. You wasted no time prying Law from your stomach, forcing him to meet your eyes. Whatever you expected, nothing prepared you for the split second glimmer of unease before it was promptly snuffed out by a glare.

“Woah, calm down, Law, you’re acting funny.”

He snorted and sat back on his heels. There was the scent of alcohol on his breath, and while you knew you indulged as well, he wouldn’t come back smelling of it from your lips alone. “Not as funny as that guy at the bar.”

Okay, he was really jealous.

“It wasn’t like that, he was telling me about the history of the town.”

Law rolled his eyes. “You were all over him.” Before the instinctual ‘was not’ was able to leave your mouth, he looked away and stuffed his hands in his pockets. His next words were barely audible, grumbled just under his breath. “You never laugh like that when you’re with me.”

Oh.

This went a little deeper than petty jealousy.

Pulling your shirt down, you sat up to meet Law’s stare. He seemed to regret the words as soon as they left his mouth, teeth clenched so tight you could see the tendons in his jaw jump. You patted the space next to you on his bed. “Sit down, we should talk.”

Stubborn as always, Law stayed standing. “I should get going, I have work to get done before morning.”

He turned on his heel, and before he was able to exit the room, your arm shot out to grab him. Law didn’t pull away from you, only let out a heavy sigh as your thumb traced tender circles onto the inside of his wrist.

“All I want is you, you know that, right?” When he didn’t respond, you tugged him closer. Law only budged because he wanted to. No one alive could make him do what he didn’t want to do. So as he slowly made his way to the bed, boots heavy against the floor, and sat down beside you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You took his tattooed hand in your own, gently playing with his fingers. Law still wouldn’t look at you, gaze fixed stubbornly at the far wall. “Come on, you have to know that.”

The silence was deafening. In a desperate attempt to fill it, you nudged Law with a half-hearted smile. “You make me laugh all the time.”

“Not like that.”

That wasn’t good. You trailed your fingers along his arms where they met at his face. Tugging on his chin to manually force him to look at you, you spoke your next words earnestly. “I love you, Law. Not some rando at the bar. Yeah, maybe he made me laugh a little, but he doesn’t hold a candle to you. I love your dry wit. I love your intelligence. I love how you care for everyone on this ship before anything else. You’re a good person and a good doctor, I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

You must have gotten through to him because the tips of his ears were tinged pink. With a relieved smile, you placed a small peck to the corner of his lips. They twitched upwards, though you could tell Law tried to stifle it and keep his displeased expression.

“You can stop now,” He said, face two shades darker than usual.

“Oh, I’m just getting started.”

The rest of the night was spent with you singing Law’s praises that he consistently waved off, pretending like you couldn’t tell he liked it. Every so often, you would place a chaste kiss to the back of his hand or to his cheek, a sharp contrast to the hungry mouth that was on your mere minutes earlier. If Law really wanted you to stop, you would. All he had to do was say it.

Three hours passed with Law in your arms, and not once did the word ‘stop’ leave his lips.

[chartreuxhue]

"I don't like you"

I wrote this a long time ago like back in 2022, sooooo if it's bad don't blame me. Blame past me. ANYWAYS enjoy :) Rule and stuff should be coming out soon...

Pairings: Yoru x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, uhhh i cant think of anything else

There were three mirror agents left, the only two people on your team left being you and Yoru. Spike had already been planted. Your back was against the wall as you held the vandell in your hands towards the entryway of the hall. “She walks through here. I’ll have to hold my own until Yoru can show and help”  or in this case finally help you. There had been no noise on comms for a long time. You were starting to think the lone wolf male was just waiting for you to get hurt so he could save you like some knight in shining armor. 

Right as you were starting to get into deep thought the mirror Skye walks into view. Three shots are fired, and the body of Skye is on the floor. You breathe. That's when you hear the two other pairs of footsteps. You took your moment and started to run, bullets were flying past. 

“Can I get a little help here!” you shouted into you comms

You quickly turned into another hallway a good distance from where you had killed Skye. You took the time to reload your gun and check for injuries, only one that you could find, a bullet graze from a phantom. “Shit! At least it wasn't as bad as last time.” 

You thought about how you were going to get out of this situation you were in. you had no more tricks up your sleeve, you were solely relying on Yoru to do something. You were starting to get worried, what the hell was he doing. Exploring the city? You watch says he was still alive and good. So what truly was taking forever. Well if he wont do anything with you alive you’ll do it yourself. You get ready to round the corner and start firing. Your foot shifted and you went to lean. 

“I’ll handle this!” 

You shifted back into the position you were before, back against the wall. You sigh, “Took you long enough!”  you thought. The sound of gunfire was heard, along with Yoru calling out that one was down. You took this as your time to make your way back to spike to defuse.

You peek around a corner, the cost looks clear so you make your way to spike. You set your gun down next to it and pull out the diffuser and start defusing. You're halfway to defusing the spike, when you hear a pistol being cocked and the end of the barrel being placed on the back of your head. “Shit! Not now of all times.”  

“How about you place that on the ground and I'll think about letting you keep your head.” The mirror Killjoy says. You place the diffuser on the ground next to you. 

“Let's not get too hasty.” you say with your hands up. You started down at the spike, its beeping was getting faster and it was making a lot more noise. You saw something blue out of the corner of your eye. You have to buy a little more time. 

“Hey , I know you have a whole reason for doing this but, I really don’t want to die directly in front of the bomb.” you say

“Oh really, well mirror you don't have a problem with it.” she says, you hear a light sarcasm in her voice. 

“Oh really, well if you can’t tell we’re actually quite different.” you say pushing your head back farther back onto the barrel of the pistol. You hear her hum as a response. You heard the little swirl noises from Yoru when he's in the dimensional drift. You slowly start reaching for the pistol strapped to your thigh.  You grab towards it as if you were going to pull it out. 

“Surprise” Yoru says as he exits the dimensional drift. You swiftly turn around and grab the pistol out of Killjoys hands before her body falls to the ground. 

The spikes beeping was getting alarmingly faster and the noises coming from it were loud too. You picked up the diffuser and went back to defusing the bomb. 

“Shit!” you said. The spikes beeping was getting faster and faster.

“Hurry up, all this will be for nothing if you get us killed.” Yoru stays behind you. 

“Shut the fuck up.” you say. You could feel Yoru getting antsy behind you while you were defusing. 

“I swear, if I die-” he was cut off by the successful defusal noise. You sighed.

You pressed a few buttons on your watch before you heard the Brimstones voice on the other end of your comms. 

“You two all set?” Brimstone asked. You looked over at Yoru.

“Yeah we're all set. We’ll be at the rendezvous point.” you said, you picked up the bag with the spike in it and handed it to Yoru. “Carry this for me, will you?” You say putting the bag in his hands and walking away. 

“Do it yourself, I’ve done everything else here.” he says before placing it on the ground and looking up at you, he scans your body for any extreme injuries, before his eyes land on the one on your dominant arm. 

“Men should always do the heavy lifting, what else are men for?” you said with a sly ass smirk on your face.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. 

“Fine, I'll continue to do everything by myself.” he says while picking up the bag and catching up with you.

……

You sit in the infirmary as Sage wrapped the injury on your arm. 

“So, I heard Yoru waited until last second to do anything.” she asked.

“Yeah, but if he waited any longer I would be dead.” 

“Well, thank god he saved you. He hasn't shut up about how well you did on the mission before with him.” 

“What!” you were stumped. Yoru was speaking highly of you. Your relationship has always been one of how better than the other. That and he very clearly annoyed the absolute shit out of you, with his whole “I’ll save the situation like always.” thinking. 

Sage finished wrapping your arm and smiled. 

“Don’t say anything to him. It might actually hurt his ego.” she says. 

She turned to continue doing more things in the infirmary leaving you to do whatever you want. So you leave the infirmary, off to find the man at question Yoru himself. 

You search the hallways for a good 30 minutes before you hear a loud banter between Yoru and Jett, coming from the shooting range

“You already know I’m a better shot than you.” Jett claims. 

“Just because you're fast doesn’t mean you're a good shot.” 

The banter goes on between the two for a while before Jett notices your presence and goes to quietly make her leave, with a playful smile on her face. 

“So you think you're a better shot than Jett.” you say. He turns his head to look at you before he scoffs. “And what's it to you?” 

“I don’t know, maybe because we all know who's actually better.” you say.

“Can I help you with something?” You’re annoying him.

“Yes, actually. I wanted to know why it took you so fucking long to do anything during the mission.” you asked, taking a seat on one of the boxes in the shooting range. 

“(y/n), are you serious right now? If you're still alive. I still did my job. Plus if you die it's not like the mission objective was to project little miss' ‘I can’t kill anything without help’” he mocked as he used a high pitched fake female voice. 

“Yoru, It took you practically 30 minutes to even do anything. The other team members, which let me remind you, are here to help you, were gone. God knows what would happen if you didn’t help me in time.” you say waving your hands around to help get your point across more. 

“Yeah, well look, you're still alive and kicking. I can’t do everything for you.” 

“I’m not saying, -” You cut yourself off out of frustration. 

“You’re not listening.” 

“I’m not listening! Do you not care for your own safety? The things that would have happened to you if I wasn't there.” He's actually serious. Is he actually upset?

“I can handle things myself. No need for me to rely on a man.” 

“Prove it,” he says. There was a very serious look on his face, a lust in his eyes. He was staring at you like a predator. 

“I have nothing to prove to you, Yoru.” you say standing up. He was now directly in front of you. Even if you had something to prove, it wouldn’t be to Yoru. 

“Oh really. You seem to have something to prove by coming to find me.” 

You take a step back, things seem to be getting heated extremely fast. With each step you take he takes, until your back hits the wall. His hands go to the wall behind you. Trapping you in front of him. 

“You're so..” he trails, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips. You were starting to get all hot and bothered now. 

“You’re so annoying-” he cuts you off with a kiss, so instead of looking like a fish out of water you kiss back. He deepened the kiss. His hands move from the wall to the sides of head. A single kiss quickly turned into a make out session. Your hands went up to the back of his neck, pulling him further into you. One of his hands moved to the base of your neck, while the other went exploring further down. His hand stopped at your waist. He pulled you closer to him. Almost like you were going to disappear at any moment. He broke for air, a smirk played on his face. 

“And I thought you hated me.”

“Pent up frustrations, from how reckless you are. And how long it takes for you to help during missions.” You say wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands now rest on your hips. 

“Is that so?” 

You humm in response. You're getting extremely impatient. Not only did he stop, now you’re all hot and bothered. 

“Why do you look so bothered?” he asked.

“I don't know, maybe you started something and just chose not to finish it. You, of all people, are the last person I would have thought to not finish something.” 

His grip on your hips got tighter. 

“Don’t tempt me.” 

You smiled, maybe being annoying to him isn't so bad.

“Or what.” you asked 

He kissed you, a hard, messy, greedy kiss. Something to prove. But like most kisses it starts something different. He started to trail down from your lips. Leaving a sloppy wet trail down, a hand coming up to the other side of your neck. You moved your head back giving him more room to work with. He got to a certain spot causing you to gasp. Your hands move up into his hair. He puts his hands on your thighs and taps them. 

“Up.” he commands. 

You lifted your legs and he caught them, wrapping them around his waist. Putting a little more force between him and the wall. He sucks and nips at the spot that caused you to gasp, trying to get a noise or something out. 

“Don’t hold back, I wanna hear you.” 

A hand moving from your thigh to your stomach, and it gets lower and lower. You didn’t stop him, instead you watched his hand get closer and closer to pussy. His hand passed the button of your pants and you finally looked up, a low sigh leaving your lips in anticipation. His hand cups your clothed vagina, you can feel the tips of his middle and index fingers making slow circles. You roll your head back against the wall, holding back whatever was trying to come out. 

“Let it out,” he says in a dangerously low tone, so you do. A high pitched moan leaves your mouth as his fingers pick up in pace and change to going the full length of your pussy. A few more moans come out and then you're suddenly very aware of how loud you are being.

“Yoru, what if someone hears?” you ask, quite afraid of being caught. 

“Then we'll have to make this quick.” he says. He puts your legs down. 

“Take them off, pretty girl.” He says, as he walks to the door of the shooting range and hits a button. You take your pants off. You turn towards him, being surprised by him kissing you. 

“Now where were we?” He says, picking you and going over a table and placing you on the edge of it. He bent down in front of you. Placing both his hands on your thighs. He bites your thigh before he moves closer to your vagina, placing his tongue at the entrance and licking up to your clitt. He ended his first taste by sucking on the little bundle of nerves. Earning a moan out of you. He takes two fingers and inserts them into you and places his lips back onto your clit.

“Fuck. Me.” 

You moaned out as your hand that isn’t propping you up goes to lace into his hair. His fingers were going in and out, curling when they went as far as they could in. You never thought you would hear such lewd things going for your mouth, it feels like you haven’t stopped making noise since he got down there. It just felt so fucking good. 

He started to move but arms under your legs and wrapped around the top, a way to secure your legs open. He was only using his mouth now. He pulled back for a moment, taking a moment to catch his breath.  

“Fuck, you sound so good.”

He practically buried his face in your pussy. Eating it like his last meal. More lewd noises and moans were flowing out of your mouth. You threw your head back, the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. 

“Cum, I’m gunna-” you cut yourself off, words started to get way to hard to speak. He let out a low hum, sending the vibrations right to your vagina. It just so happened to be enough for the knot within to snap. You let out a high pitched moan, holding it for longer than you expected as he continued to eat you out through your high. When you had come down from it you looked down to meet his eyes. He smirked up at you, before releasing your legs from his grasp. You lay down completely on the table, exhausted. 

“I hate you so much.” you spoke. You hated that he could just completely make you come undone like that. 

“I don’t know, your body says otherwise.” He says as he stands up and wipes his mouth with the back of his glove. He hands you back your pants. You grab them but just stare at him.

“What?” he asked.  

“Where are my panties?” you asked. Looking around. You have taken them off with your pants. 

“Oh I don’t know, they weren’t there when I picked your pants up,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes. He most likely stole them as a trophy. 

You slip your pants back on. You look around to make sure you got everything that was yours, leaving no trace of evidence of what happened. You sighed, after a good look around and walked to the door. Yoru stood waiting and watched you like a hawk. 

“Do I look presentable?” you asked, fixing your hair like you alway do. 

“Like always.” he said, he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll see you around, (y/n).” he said before opening the door and leaving with a prominent smirk on his face.