#I’m just afraid that the barely there confidence I got from that

[urdreamydoodles]

X-Men x Reader (Part.2)

They accidentally hurt you (Part.2)

You're accidentally hurt during a moment of loss of control by your powerful partners

Characters: Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, Charles Xavier, Hank McCoy, Emma Frost, Ororo Munroe, Mystique, Magik, Colossus & Sunspot

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

Being in a relationship with Pietro Maximoff was like living life at lightning speed—quite literally. His world was always in motion, and being with him meant constantly adapting to the rapid pace of his thoughts and actions. But beneath his fast-talking, sometimes brash exterior, you found someone who was deeply caring, even if his way of showing it was a little unconventional. He adored you, always racing back to you after a mission or zipping out to grab your favorite food when you were feeling down. But sometimes, Pietro’s powers got the best of him.

Today had been one of those days. It started out fine—Pietro had taken you on a whirlwind day trip to Paris, as he often did, running across the Atlantic in the blink of an eye. You had laughed as he effortlessly carried you through the streets, dodging between pedestrians, never once bumping into anyone. The two of you had spent hours exploring the city, grabbing pastries from the corner café, and watching the sunset by the Seine.

But on the way back to the mansion, something went wrong.

Pietro, in his typical rush, had underestimated just how tired he was. He carried you back across the ocean, but this time, his focus slipped for just a second. That second was all it took.

One moment you were in his arms, the wind whipping through your hair, and the next you were falling. The blur of the world slowed into a terrifying clarity as your body hit the ground. The impact knocked the breath out of you, and pain flared through your side. For a moment, everything went black.

When you opened your eyes, Pietro was there, his face pale with fear. He was kneeling beside you, his hands hovering over you but not touching, as if afraid his very presence would break you further.

“Y/N!” His voice cracked, his usual confidence and swagger gone, replaced by sheer panic. “Oh god, I—I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t thinking—”

You groaned, trying to push yourself up, but the pain in your ribs made you gasp. Pietro’s hands immediately shot forward, but then he froze, torn between wanting to help and being terrified of making things worse.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’ve never… I didn’t think this would happen. I’m so stupid! I—”

“Pietro,” you gasped, forcing a weak smile. “It was an accident.”

He shook his head furiously, his silver hair falling into his eyes. “No. No, it wasn’t. I wasn’t careful. I was too fast. I always do this—”

“Hey, stop.” You reached out, grabbing his wrist to ground him. “I’m okay. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

His eyes, wide and filled with guilt, locked onto yours. For once, Pietro didn’t have a quick comeback, didn’t have a joke or a grin to deflect. He looked devastated, as if the very thought of hurting you had broken something inside him.

“I’ll never forgive myself for this,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You… you’re everything to me, and I… I hurt you.”

You gently pulled his hand toward you, resting it over your heart. “Pietro, I trust you. Always. This was an accident, and it could have happened to anyone.”

Pietro’s face crumpled, and he leaned down, pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead. His lips trembled against your skin, and you felt his breath hitch.

“I’ll be more careful,” he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll never let this happen again.”

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

Being with Wanda was like stepping into a world where magic and reality blurred together. You were always mesmerized by the way her crimson energy glowed at her fingertips, the way she could bend the world to her will, her power immense but her heart so fragile. You’d been through a lot together, and you’d come to understand the weight of her power, the burden she carried with each spell cast, each alteration of reality. But despite her best efforts, sometimes things spiraled out of control.

Today, it had started as a simple, quiet day in your shared apartment. Wanda had been in a particularly good mood, her laughter filling the room as she practiced her magic casually. She’d been making small changes to the space—coloring the walls with a wave of her hand, rearranging furniture with a flick of her wrist, changing a painting on the wall just for fun. You’d always admired how natural her magic was to her, as if it were an extension of her being.

"Look at this!" Wanda giggled, twirling around as she summoned a cluster of glowing red orbs that danced in the air between you. You smiled, watching her joy with an affectionate gaze. She was so radiant when she let her guard down, when she allowed herself to play without worry.

You reached out, trying to touch one of the floating orbs, but suddenly, her expression shifted. Something flickered in her eyes—panic, uncertainty—and the magic faltered.

Before you could react, the energy exploded outward in a burst of chaotic force. You were thrown back, your body slamming into the wall with a sickening thud. The wind was knocked out of you, and pain seared through your back and head as you crumpled to the floor, dazed and disoriented.

“Y/N!” Wanda’s voice was filled with horror as she rushed toward you, her crimson energy quickly dissipating as she knelt by your side, her hands hovering over you. “Oh my God, I—are you okay? I didn’t mean to—I lost control—”

You winced, trying to catch your breath as you pushed yourself up, but every movement sent sharp pain radiating through your body. Wanda’s hands trembled as she touched your arm lightly, afraid to cause any more harm.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I—my magic—”

“It’s okay,” you croaked, even though you were still catching your breath, your body aching from the impact. You managed a weak smile, reaching up to touch her hand. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

But Wanda’s face was pale, her green eyes wide with guilt and fear. “No, it’s not okay. I can’t control it sometimes, and this is exactly what I was afraid of. I hurt you. I could have—” Her voice cracked, and she pressed her gloved hands to her face, her shoulders shaking.

“Wanda…” you breathed, slowly pulling yourself into a sitting position despite the pain. You cupped her cheek gently, brushing away a tear that had escaped her lashes. “You didn’t lose control. It was an accident. I’m fine.”

She shook her head, her chest tight with emotion as she looked at you, her guilt weighing heavily on her. “I could have done worse. What if next time it’s worse? I can’t live with myself if—”

You silenced her with a soft kiss on her forehead, your touch gentle but grounding. “You won’t. I trust you. We’ll work through this. You have more control than you think, Wanda. I’ve seen you do amazing things, and I know you can handle this.”

Her tears slowed as she gazed at you, her heart swelling with love and guilt, her hands carefully cradling your face. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll always be so careful. I promise, I’ll never hurt you again.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back, leaning into her touch, knowing that together, you could face anything—even the occasional chaos of her powers.

Charles Xavier (Professor X)

Your relationship with Charles Xavier was built on a deep, unspoken understanding. His mind was a marvel—brilliant, compassionate, but weighed down by the burden of leading the X-Men and carrying the future of mutantkind on his shoulders. You loved him for his wisdom, his kindness, and his unwavering dedication to his ideals. But with his incredible psychic abilities came risks, especially in moments when his concentration slipped, when the weight of his mental strain became too much.

The day had started like any other. You had been sitting across from Charles in his study, watching him as he went through a pile of documents. His brow furrowed in concentration as he read over reports from Cerebro, the faint hum of the machine in the background. You could tell he was tired, the mental strain from constant use of his powers weighing on him. He rarely admitted it, but you could always sense when he needed rest.

"Charles," you said softly, setting your book aside. "You’ve been working too hard. You need a break."

He glanced up from his papers, offering you a small, tired smile. "You worry too much about me," he said, though the affection in his voice was clear. "But I appreciate it."

Before you could reply, something shifted. Charles’s expression grew distant, his eyes glazing over as his mind seemed to drift away. You had seen this before—when Cerebro pulled him into a deep telepathic connection, when his mind traveled across the globe in search of new mutants.

But this time, something went wrong.

A sudden, sharp pain lanced through your head, so intense it felt like your skull was being split apart. You gasped, clutching your head as the psychic intrusion overwhelmed your senses. Images flashed before your eyes—disjointed, chaotic thoughts that weren’t your own. You tried to scream, but no sound came out, your body wracked with the intense pressure of Charles’s mind accidentally invading yours.

And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.

You collapsed into the chair, gasping for air as the pain ebbed away, leaving behind a dull, throbbing ache. Charles was immediately by your side, his wheelchair rolling quickly to you, his face filled with horror and guilt.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “I—I didn’t mean to—are you alright?”

You blinked, trying to clear the lingering fog from your mind as you looked up at him. His hands were trembling slightly, something you had never seen before. The great Charles Xavier, always calm and composed, was visibly shaken.

“It was an accident,” you managed to say, though your head still pounded from the psychic overload. “I’m okay.”

Charles shook his head, his guilt written plainly across his features. “No. I wasn’t careful. I—my mind slipped, and I hurt you. I should have been more aware. I…” He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

You reached out, placing a hand over his, trying to convey your forgiveness through your touch. “Charles, it’s okay. I know you would never hurt me on purpose. I’m fine. Really.”

He looked at you with such sorrow in his eyes, the weight of centuries of knowledge and responsibility pressing down on him. “I could have done much worse. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I would never… I would never want to harm you.”

“I know,” you whispered, squeezing his hand gently. “You’ve been carrying so much. It’s no wonder your mind slipped. But I’m not afraid of you, Charles. I never will be.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “You are far too forgiving, my love. I don’t deserve it.”

“You deserve everything,” you said softly, leaning forward to kiss him gently on the lips, reassuring him with your touch. “You don’t have to carry all of this alone. Let me help you.”

He gazed at you with such deep gratitude, his hand brushing your cheek softly. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” you whispered, knowing that, no matter what, you would always be by his side.

Hank McCoy (Beast)

You’ve always admired Hank’s intelligence and his unparalleled kindness. For someone so physically imposing, he was remarkably gentle, both in mind and heart. Being with him had been a gift, his endless curiosity and deep compassion bringing a unique sense of warmth into your life. You loved watching him in the lab, his mind constantly at work as he balanced his brilliant scientific endeavors with his more primal, physical side.

Today was no different, except for one thing. He’d been stressed recently, working long hours in his lab to perfect a new serum, one that could enhance mutant abilities without adverse side effects. He was meticulous, often pushing himself too hard, and you could see the toll it was taking on him.

“Love, you’ve been at this for hours,” you said, leaning against the doorframe of the lab, watching as he adjusted some delicate equipment. His large, fur-covered hands moved with surprising precision. “You should take a break.”

Hank glanced up, his glasses slipping down his nose as he offered you a weary smile. “I’m almost finished,” he said, his deep voice rumbling with both affection and fatigue. “Just a few more calculations, and then I’ll join you for dinner.”

You sighed, knowing how hard it was to pull him away when he was so focused. Still, you couldn’t help but worry. “Don’t push yourself too hard,” you said softly, stepping closer. “I don’t want you to burn out.”

He looked up from his work, his blue eyes softening as he reached for your hand, pulling you close. “You always know how to take care of me,” he murmured, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “I promise, just a little longer.”

You smiled, resting your head against his broad chest, comforted by the steady thrum of his heart. But as you pulled away to give him space, something unexpected happened.

A sudden crash echoed through the lab. One of Hank’s devices, an experimental generator, sputtered and sparked. Hank reacted instantly, his instincts taking over as he lunged forward to stop the malfunction. But in his haste, he misjudged his own strength.

Before you could react, his powerful arm swung out, hitting you square in the side. The force of the blow sent you flying into a nearby table, your body crashing against the hard surface. Pain shot through you, sharp and unforgiving, and you crumpled to the ground, gasping for air.

“Y/N!” Hank’s voice was filled with horror as he rushed to your side, his hands shaking as he carefully lifted you into his arms. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—I didn’t see you—are you alright?”

You winced, trying to catch your breath, the pain in your ribs making it hard to move. “I’m… okay,” you managed, though your voice was weak, your body trembling from the impact. “It was an accident.”

Hank’s face was a mixture of guilt and fear as he cradled you against his chest, his large hands carefully checking you for injuries. “I’m so sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I—sometimes I forget how strong I am.”

You could see the anguish in his eyes, the way his self-loathing threatened to consume him. He had always been so careful with you, so aware of his strength and size. To have hurt you, even by accident, was his worst nightmare.

“I know you didn’t mean to,” you said softly, reaching up to touch his cheek, your fingers brushing through his thick fur. “I’ll be okay, Hank. It’s not your fault.”

But he shook his head, his eyes filled with regret. “I should have been more careful. I—” His voice broke, and he pulled you closer, his arms trembling as he held you. “I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, trying to soothe his guilt with your touch. “I trust you,” you whispered, your voice filled with love and reassurance. “I’ll always trust you.”

Hank held you close, his heart aching with both love and guilt, knowing that he would do everything in his power to make sure this never happened again.

Emma Frost

Being with Emma Frost was never simple. She was a woman of many layers, her sharp intellect and cold exterior often hiding the vulnerability and passion that lay beneath. But you knew her better than anyone. You’d seen the cracks in her icy façade, the warmth she reserved only for you. Emma was fiercely protective, but she also had her moments of weakness, and today, that weakness had shown itself in the worst way.

You were in the Danger Room, watching her train. Emma was skilled, both in her telepathy and her diamond form, and she took pride in her ability to protect herself and those she cared about. You had always admired her strength, but you also knew how much pressure she put on herself to be perfect.

“Darling, you don’t have to push yourself so hard,” you called out, leaning against the control panel as she finished a particularly brutal round of training simulations. “You’re already incredible.”

Emma smirked, her blue eyes glinting with amusement as she sauntered over to you, her body shimmering as she shifted out of her diamond form. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” she purred, though there was a hint of tension in her voice.

You raised an eyebrow, sensing something was off. “Are you okay?”

Emma hesitated for a moment, her confident demeanor faltering ever so slightly. “I’ve just been under a lot of stress,” she admitted, her voice quieter than usual. “There’s… a lot on my mind.”

You stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on her arm. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know. I’m here.”

For a moment, Emma softened, her gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability she rarely showed. But then, something shifted. Her telepathy flared without warning, a sharp, unintentional burst of psychic energy hitting you like a tidal wave. Your mind was flooded with overwhelming thoughts and emotions—fear, pain, anger—all tangled together in a chaotic storm.

You cried out, clutching your head as the psychic intrusion tore through your mind, leaving you gasping for air. The pressure was unbearable, your thoughts splintering as Emma’s powers overwhelmed your senses.

And then, as quickly as it had started, it stopped.

Emma’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what she had done, her hands shaking as she reached for you. “Y/N,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I… I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”

You staggered, still reeling from the psychic onslaught, but you managed to steady yourself, your heart racing as you tried to catch your breath. “It’s okay,” you said, though your voice was weak, your body trembling from the aftershock. “It was an accident.”

Emma’s usually composed expression crumbled, her icy exterior shattering as guilt washed over her. “I hurt you,” she said, her voice filled with self-loathing. “I swore I’d never let that happen.”

You reached out, gently touching her cheek, your fingers tracing the sharp lines of her face. “It wasn’t your fault,” you whispered, your voice filled with understanding. “You were overwhelmed. I get it.”

But Emma shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I should have been stronger. I should have controlled it. I—” Her voice broke, and she turned away, her shoulders tense with guilt.

You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around her from behind, resting your head against her shoulder. “Emma, you don’t have to be perfect. I love you for who you are, flaws and all. I’m not afraid of you.”

She closed her eyes, leaning into your embrace as the tension slowly melted away. “I don’t deserve you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

You smiled softly, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “You deserve everything.”

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

Ororo was breathtaking in every sense. From the calm in her voice to the ferocity of her powers, she was like the perfect storm—gentle and violent, all at once. You had fallen in love with her grace, her wisdom, and the way she treated you like the calm at the eye of her whirlwind. But even the most controlled storm can lose its way, and today, you found yourself caught in the middle of one.

It was a bright, peaceful afternoon at Xavier’s mansion. Ororo had been training in the backyard, working on perfecting her connection with the elements as she often did. You sat nearby, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your skin, the rhythmic sound of the wind responding to her commands soothing your nerves.

“Be careful, love,” you called out with a teasing smile. “You know how you get when you push yourself too hard.”

Ororo’s golden eyes met yours, her lips curving into a soft smile. “I’ve got everything under control, darling,” she reassured you, her voice like a summer breeze, carrying with it the sweet scent of rain.

You relaxed into the moment, watching as she raised her arms to the sky, commanding the clouds to shift, the wind to change direction. You were used to this—Ororo playing with the elements like a conductor leading an orchestra. But today, something felt off. The air grew heavier, the skies darker, and a sense of tension filled the space around you.

Suddenly, without warning, a crack of thunder split the sky. You barely had time to react before a sudden gust of wind, stronger than any you’d ever felt, slammed into you, knocking you off your feet. You hit the ground hard, pain radiating through your body as the wind continued to rage, swirling around you with an almost tangible fury.

“Y/N!” Ororo’s voice broke through the chaos, panic evident in her tone.

She was by your side in an instant, the storm vanishing as quickly as it had come. You groaned, trying to push yourself up, but the pain in your ribs made it difficult to breathe. Ororo’s hands were gentle but frantic as she helped you sit up, her face pale with fear.

“I didn’t mean to—oh, Goddess, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she touched your cheek, her fingers soft against your skin. “I lost control for just a moment. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You winced but managed a small smile, reaching up to place your hand over hers. “It’s okay, Ororo,” you said, though your voice was weak. “It was an accident. I’ll be fine.”

But Ororo shook her head, her eyes filled with guilt and self-reproach. “I should have been more careful. I never should have put you at risk like that.” She pulled you closer, her arms wrapping around you protectively as though she could shield you from the storm that had already passed.

“I trust you,” you whispered, resting your head against her chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart. “I know you’d never hurt me on purpose.”

Ororo held you tightly, her breath shaky as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll never let it happen again,” she promised, her voice firm despite the tears in her eyes.

In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of her storm, you knew that she meant every word.

Raven Darkholme (Mystique)

Loving Raven had always been a risk. Her world was filled with danger, deception, and ever-changing faces. But you had fallen for her, despite it all, because beneath her tough exterior was someone you loved with all your heart. Still, there were moments when her powers—her ability to shift and change—created unintended consequences.

Today had been one of those days. You and Raven were in the middle of a mission, something quick and straightforward. But things had gone wrong. In the heat of the battle, you had gotten too close, and without realizing it, Raven had shifted into a form with a sharper edge—literally. Her arm, now covered in razor-like scales, brushed against your side as she fought off an enemy, and you felt a searing pain slice through your skin.

You gasped, stumbling back as you clutched your side. Blood seeped through your fingers, and Raven’s eyes immediately snapped to you. Her form shifted back into her usual self, and for the first time in a long time, you saw fear in her eyes.

"Y/N!" she called out, her voice shaking with an emotion she rarely showed—panic. She was at your side in an instant, her hands already on your wound, trying to stop the bleeding. "I didn’t see you… I didn’t realize…" Her voice was frantic, and the guilt that clouded her expression was unlike anything you’d seen before.

"It’s okay," you said, wincing as the pain shot through you. Your vision blurred slightly, but you forced yourself to smile up at her. "It was an accident."

But Raven wasn’t hearing it. "I’m supposed to protect you," she muttered, her voice thick with frustration and anger—though not at you, at herself. "I’m supposed to be in control, and I hurt you."

You placed your hand over hers, despite the pain. "Raven, it was a mistake. I know you’d never hurt me intentionally."

Her jaw clenched, and you could see the internal battle she was fighting. Raven prided herself on being in control, on never letting her emotions—or her powers—slip. But this time, she had, and it was eating her up inside.

"I won’t let this happen again," she whispered, her voice hard with determination as she pressed her forehead against yours. "I won’t lose control like that again."

You smiled softly, despite the pain radiating from your wound. "I know you won’t," you whispered back, your hand gently squeezing hers. "I trust you, Raven. I always will."

Raven’s eyes softened at your words, and she carefully lifted you into her arms, her movements gentle despite her strength. As she carried you to safety, you could feel the tension in her body, the way she held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

The wound would heal, but the love between you and Raven only deepened. She became even more protective of you after that day, never letting her guard down again when you were near. But through it all, the bond between you remained unbreakable.

Illyana Rasputin (Magik)

You knew Illyana had a complicated relationship with her powers, especially with the dark side of Limbo that constantly pulled at her. Despite this, you loved her fiercely, and she loved you with a passion that could light up even the darkest realms. She was careful around you, more than anyone else, but today, things had slipped out of her control.

You had been helping her train, something simple, nothing too intense. But the energies of Limbo were unpredictable, and without warning, a surge of dark magic shot out from her sword, the edge of it grazing your arm. The moment it hit, a burning sensation spread up your skin, and you let out a gasp, staggering backward as the pain ripped through you.

Illyana’s eyes flared with panic, and within seconds, she was at your side, her sword vanishing into thin air. "Y/N!" she cried, her voice breaking as she grabbed your shoulders, her hands trembling. "I didn’t mean to! I— I lost control for a second!"

You winced, feeling the magic burn deeper into your flesh, but you forced a smile through the pain. "I know," you whispered, your hand coming up to rest on hers. "I know, Illyana. It’s okay."

But it wasn’t okay to her. Her eyes were wide with fear, with guilt. "No… no, it’s not. I should’ve been more careful. I shouldn’t have let this happen." Her fingers traced the burn on your arm, her magic already working to heal it, but the regret in her expression remained.

You could see the darkness lurking just behind her eyes, the worry that she might hurt you again. "Illyana, listen to me." You gently cupped her face, forcing her to meet your gaze. "I trust you. I know you didn’t mean to. This doesn’t change how I feel about you."

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerable side of her that she rarely let anyone else see. She kissed your forehead softly, her lips lingering there as if trying to absorb your pain. "I love you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I never want to hurt you."

You smiled, your heart swelling with warmth. "You won’t. I know you, Illyana. You’re stronger than the darkness."

She nodded slowly, her arms wrapping around you tightly. From that moment on, she became even more protective, determined to never let her powers slip around you again. And through it all, your love for her only grew stronger.

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus)

The weight of Piotr's presence always made you feel safe, but today, that same strength was what had hurt you. You and Piotr had decided to engage in some light sparring in the Danger Room, a regular part of your routine since you liked to train together. Piotr, in his towering, metal form, was always so careful with you, knowing the tremendous strength he carried. But today, something went wrong.

The match had been going smoothly until you tried to land a playful punch on his side, which he quickly blocked. But his reflexes, powerful and fast, caught you off guard. He turned, his metal fist too swift and forceful, and connected with your shoulder before either of you could stop it. The impact was immediate, sending a shock of pain through your body and knocking you to the ground.

You gasped in shock, clutching your shoulder as you struggled to catch your breath. "Y/N!" Piotr's voice was laced with panic as he immediately knelt beside you, his large metallic hands trembling as he reached for you. "I didn’t mean to… I’m so sorry. Are you hurt badly?" His deep, accented voice was almost a whisper as his guilt consumed him.

The pain was sharp, but you forced yourself to give him a reassuring smile, though it was more of a grimace. "I’m okay," you managed to say, though the pain in your shoulder said otherwise. You knew Piotr would never intentionally hurt you, but the guilt that filled his eyes was almost unbearable.

"I should never have agreed to spar with you," Piotr muttered, his voice full of self-reproach. His hands hovered over your body, unsure of where to touch, afraid of causing you further harm. "I’m too dangerous. I hurt you. I could’ve—"

"Piotr, stop," you interrupted softly, reaching up with your good arm to rest your hand against his cool, metal cheek. "It was an accident. You’d never hurt me on purpose."

He closed his eyes at your touch, but the pain in his expression didn’t lessen. "You are too precious to me," he whispered, his accent thick with emotion. "I cannot forgive myself for this."

Despite the pain, you leaned into his embrace as he carefully lifted you in his arms. His metal skin was cool against your body, but you could still feel the warmth of his love beneath it. "I know you love me, Piotr," you said, resting your head against his broad chest. "That’s why I know you’d never hurt me intentionally."

Piotr carried you to the med bay, never once letting you go. Even though the pain in your shoulder would take time to heal, the bond between you and Piotr only grew stronger. He became even more protective of you, but the love and devotion he showed was something that would never waver.

Roberto Da Costa (Sunspot)

Roberto’s energy had always been one of the things that attracted you to him. His fire, his passion, his vibrancy—he was like the sun, impossible to resist. But today, that same energy had gone out of control. You and Roberto were training together, as usual, but he had been pushing himself harder than normal, his powers flaring hotter and wilder than you had ever seen before.

You had been standing too close when it happened—a massive surge of solar energy burst from Roberto’s body, and before you could react, the heat slammed into you, knocking you to the ground. The burning pain spread through your chest and arms, and you cried out in shock, clutching at your skin as it stung from the impact.

"Y/N!" Roberto���s voice was filled with panic as he rushed over to you, his hands still glowing with the residual energy from the blast. "Oh god, are you okay? I—" He knelt beside you, his usually confident demeanor shattered as he took in the sight of you, wincing from the pain.

You tried to smile, though it was more of a grimace, as you lay on the ground, the heat from the blast still radiating through your skin. "I’m okay," you said weakly, though you weren’t entirely sure that was true. The burn was painful, but the look of guilt on Roberto’s face was worse.

"I didn’t mean to," Roberto said, his voice shaking with emotion. "I lost control for a second, I swear. I would never… I’d never hurt you on purpose." His hands hovered over you, glowing with warmth but not daring to touch you, as if afraid he’d burn you again.

"I know, Roberto," you said, your voice soft but filled with reassurance. "I know you didn’t mean to."

He shook his head, his dark eyes filled with regret. "I should’ve been more careful. I could’ve hurt you so much worse." He clenched his fists, frustrated with himself. "I can’t believe I let this happen."

You reached up with your uninjured hand, gently placing it on his arm. "You didn’t let anything happen," you said firmly, your voice steady despite the pain. "It was an accident. I know you’d never hurt me on purpose."

Roberto’s shoulders slumped as he exhaled shakily. "I love you so much, Y/N," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know what I’d do if I really hurt you."

You smiled softly, despite the burn, and pulled him closer to you. "I love you too," you whispered back. "And you didn’t hurt me on purpose. That’s all that matters."

Roberto carefully helped you up, his arms gentle but protective as he guided you to the med bay. The pain would fade in time, but the love between you and Roberto only grew stronger. He was more careful with his powers around you from that day on, but the bond between you remained unbreakable.

[redsummermoon]

Hands to Hold

Steven Meeks x reader

CW: female reader, use of Y/N, probably in college (up to you ig) 

[0.7k words] (short and sweet<3)

The two walked side by side down the campus path, books in hand, the afternoon sun casting soft shadows on the pavement. Meeks was practically vibrating with nervous energy, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to keep the conversation going.

“So, how was your biology class?” Y/N asked, glancing up at him with a smile.

Meeks cleared his throat, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt. “It, uh, it was good. We’re starting genetics, which is really interesting. I mean, Mendel’s pea plants and all that… you know, basic stuff.”

Y/N laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sounds fun. I think I would’ve liked biology more if I’d had you as a tutor.”

Meeks felt his face heat up. “I-I could help you with anything, really. If you ever need it.”

“Thanks,” she said, and Meeks noticed how her hand gently brushed against his as they walked.

His pulse quickened. Okay, this is your chance. Just grab her hand. It’s not that hard. You can do it, he thought to himself. But every time their hands made the briefest contact, he pulled away just slightly, afraid of messing it up.

Y/N tried again, brushing her hand against his, this time a little more deliberately. She could tell Meeks was nervous, but she found it sweet. Still, she hoped he’d finally take the hint.

“So, what are you doing later?” Meeks asked, desperately trying to distract himself from his internal hand-holding crisis.

“Oh, probably just catching up on some reading. What about you?” Y/N replied, giving her hand one more subtle nudge against his.

“I’ve got that physics homework,” Meeks mumbled, barely able to concentrate. Come on, just do it. Hold her hand! he screamed at himself internally.

He took a breath, feeling the warmth of her hand so close to his. Then, in one swift, slightly shaky motion, he reached out and grabbed her hand. He was sure she could feel how sweaty his palms were, but the moment their fingers intertwined, all his worries melted away.

Y/N looked at him, a smile spreading across her face. “There you go,” she giggled, squeezing his hand lightly.

Meeks couldn’t help but laugh, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “I—uh, I’ve been trying to do that for the past ten minutes.”

Y/N laughed softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I could tell.”

He smiled, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. “I guess I just didn’t want to mess it up.”

“You could never mess this up,” Y/N said warmly, her thumb brushing lightly over his hand. She smiled softly, “Hey, you know… we’re dating now. You don’t have to be so nervous around me.”

Meeks blinked, his blush deepening. “I-I’m not nervous,” he stammered, clearly not fooling anyone.

Y/N just giggled. “Meeks, you’ve been looking at our hands like they’re a science experiment. You know… it’s okay if you want to touch me. I like being close to you.”

That made him stop for a second. Touch her? The idea, simple as it was, made his head spin. But Y/N was right. They were dating. It was okay now. Still, the idea of initiating anything with her made his stomach flip.

Y/N squeezed his hand again, leaning slightly closer as they walked. “Is there… anything else you’d like to do with me?”

Her voice was soft, teasing, but it was also clear she was genuinely curious. Meeks’ mind raced. Anything else? His heart practically skipped a beat.

Taking a deep breath, he stopped walking and turned to face her. His cheeks were still burning, but he met her gaze and said, more confidently than he thought he could, “I’d like to kiss you.”

Y/N blinked in surprise before her face lit up with excitement. “Okay, love.”

Without overthinking it, Meeks leaned in, his heart pounding in his ears. Y/N closed the distance, meeting him halfway as their lips brushed together in a soft, sweet kiss. It wasn’t perfect, his nervousness made him a little stiff at first, but the warmth of her lips made everything else melt away.

When they pulled back, both of them were smiling.

“There,” Y/N whispered. “Just ask when you want another.”

Meeks laughed, feeling like he was on top of the world. “Can I have another?”

Y/N giggles and leaned in once more. She peppers kisses all over Meeks’ face to get his blush really going.

And finally, they continued walking in comfortable silence, hands still intertwined, both of them quietly thrilled that this small moment felt like the biggest victory.

[cryptidsdad]

I went driving with my mom (we did the whole circling the parking lot thing) & I was freaking out the entire time

[rynwritesreid]

I wanna know you, honey| Spencer Reid

A/N: I will be continuing mind games soon I promise, that’s all :)

Summary: Spencer’s wanted since the first time he had seen you, but he is was always to scared to admit his feelings.

Content: idiots in love basically. Smut. 18+. Fem reader. Fluff. Munch! Spencer. Creampie. No mentions of contraception. P in V. Semi dom spencer. Sub reader.

Masterlist| request are open| Navigation

Spencer knew you were so far off limits; it was almost humorous, but he couldn’t get enough of you. He didn’t love you, because he knew he couldn’t love you, but he would give everything he could, including his sky-high IQ, for you two to be in love with each other.

 

Spencer wanted everything from you, he wanted to know what you tasted like, he wanted to know what you looked like first thing in the morning or just after a shower, and he wanted to know what did when you were alone.

 

He often found himself daydreaming about doing mundane, everyday things with you. But shamefully, he also thought what it would be like to have sex with you. He believed you would taste like honey, and if he ever did get a taste of you, he didn’t think he would be able to ever stop himself. He wanted to know how you sounded, what kinks or fantasies you had.

 

Spencer couldn’t shake the thought of you, no matter how hard he tried to distract himself. “Spencer, you either need to tell how you feel, or get a grip man.” Derek stared at Spencer, with a mix of concern and amusement.

 

*

Spencer had neither told you about his feelings, nor got a grip. Instead, he found himself slipping deeper into his fantasies about you. The thought of your smile, your touch, consumed him day and night.

 

“Spencer, have you told her yet?” JJ interrupted his thoughts, her concern evident in her voice. Spencer shifted in his seat, his mind racing with all the possible outcomes of revealing his true emotions to you.

 

He had rehearsed the conversation a million times in his head, each scenario ending with a different reaction from you. The fear of rejection gripped him tightly, paralyzing him from taking that final leap of faith.

 

"I... I haven't found the right moment yet," Spencer stammered, avoiding JJ's piercing gaze. But deep down, he knew it wasn't about timing. It was about finding the courage to lay bare his vulnerable heart before you, risking it all for a chance at something more. And the fact that his boss, saw you as his daughter.

 

You weren’t biologically related to Hotch, but while you attended Georgetown University, you had become Jacks nanny. Hotch was the one who had pushed you to join the FBI and become a profiler. He had become overly protective off you, knowing the dangers of their line of work all too well.

 

“Is it really because you haven’t found the right moment yet, or is the fact that she is that close to Hotch scaring you off?” JJ watched Spencer carefully, knowing there was more to his hesitation than just timing.

 

*

All of Spencer’s thought now were consumed by you, he wanted you, he wanted you more than anything he has ever wanted before. “Hey, Spence. Are you okay? It feels like you’ve been avoiding me.” You whispered, there was a hint of sadness in your voice.

 

"Hey," Spencer replied softly, his heart racing at the sound of your voice. He couldn't bring himself to meet your eyes, afraid that you would see right through him. "I... I've just had a lot on my mind lately."

 

You moved closer, concern etched on your face. "Is there anything you want to talk about? You know you can always confide in me, right?"

 

Why did you have to be so friendly, and genuinely nice and caring. “It’s… its nothing. I know I can always talk to you don’t worry, but there isn’t anything to talk to you about right now.” Spencer swallowed hard, the words he longed to say caught in his throat.

 

“Okay. But if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.”  Your voice was calming to him, it was something he wished he could listen to constantly. As you walked back to your desk, he noticed Emily and JJ glaring at him.

 

*

You don’t know what time it is, but you hear a light knocking at your door. Before you even start moving towards it, you hear Spencer’s voice, “Hey it’s me.”

 

Without hesitation, you opened the door to find Spencer standing there, his hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still.

 

"Spencer, what are you doing here so late?" you asked, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest at his unexpected visit.

 

He didn’t answer though, he just moved closer to you. His hand cupped your cheek, making you look directly at him. This is the first time you had seen Spencer this close, you could see how plump his lips, how his hair perfectly framed his face, and how his face looked like it had been created by a Greek god.

 

Before you knew it, and before you could ask him again what he was doing here, his lips were on yours.

 

Passionate and intense, his kiss sent a jolt of electricity through you. Spencer's lips were soft yet urgent against yours, as if he had been holding back this desire for far too long. You melted into the kiss, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair.

 

“Do you know how long I have wanted to do that?” Spencer whispered against your lips, his breath warm and sweet. His eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of rejection or hesitation. But all you could see reflected back at you was longing and raw emotion.

 

“How long?” is all you could manage to say. Spencer's answer came in the form of another searing kiss, his hands pulling you closer to him. As you melted into his embrace, you started to wonder if he had wanted this as long as you had. But you didn’t really care, you were just happy it was happening now.

 

As Spencer pulled away from the kiss, all you wanted to do was pull him back into it, you didn’t want the kiss to end. “Which way is your bedroom?” Spencer asked, his voice husky with desire. You raised your arm, and pointed out your bedroom door, and before you could say or do anything else, you felt Spencer pick you up and place you over his shoulder.

 

"Spencer! Put me down, I can walk!" you giggled, feeling a mix of excitement and shock at his actions.

 

"I know, but I don't want to take any chances. Besides, I like carrying you around." he replied with a playful smirk.

 

You had never really thought Spencer would be strong enough to carry you like this. Derek and Hotch certainly looked like they could, but not Spencer. Spencer carried you to your bedroom with ease, though.

 

As he gently set you down on the bed, a rush of anticipation filled the room. His eyes met yours, a mix of adoration and desire swirling in their depths. “Do you want to know what else I’ve wanted to do to you?” Spencer whispered, his voice low and filled with longing. Without waiting for a response, his lips captured yours again in a fervent kiss that left you breathless.

 

His hands wondered your body till he found the hem of your pj shorts. “Is it okay if I take these off?” Spencer asked, his eyes searching for your permission. You nodded slowly, your heart pounding in your chest as you gave him the go-ahead.

 

He slowly pulled down your shorts, revealing your soft skin beneath. Spencer trailed his fingers along your thighs, something he had dreamed off so many times. You felt goosebumps rise on your skin as his touch sent shivers down your spine. He palmed your breasts through your t-shirt, sparking waves of pleasure that left you gasping for air. His lips found your neck, trailing soft kisses that sent desire coursing through your veins.

 

His hands pulled your t-shirt off you, revealing your bare skin. He paused for a moment, taking you in with a mix of admiration and hunger. His lips moved from your necks and down towards your breasts, kissing each one gently. You arched into him, feeling his tongue traces the outline of your nipple, making you moan softly.

His lips then moved on to your stomach, and finally they found their way to your clit.

 

His touch was expertly gentle, yet firm, and you could feel his intense focus on you. You let out a string of moans, your body tense with the desire he was unleashing within you. You could feel your arousal building, the intensity of his fingers and lips working their magic on you.

 

You could feel your orgasm building, the intensity growing with each passing second. It hit you like a tidal wave, waves of pleasure washing over you, your body tensing and then relaxing with each powerful contraction. You cried out, your voice ringing out loud and clear through the room.

 

You tasted as sweet as he thought you would, but he wanted more. He wanted to feel you around him, he wanted to hear you begging for him. As he drew his fingers out from your damp centre, a satisfied smile graced his lips, he knew he had made a profound impact on you.

 

Without missing a beat, he rose above you, his eyes scorching into yours, and positioned himself at your entrance. You looked up at him, fear and anticipation dancing in your eyes. He glanced down at your face, reading your emotions, and caressed your cheek.

 

“Don't worry,” he whispered, aiming to quell those fears gleaming in your gaze. “I'll be gentle, and I'll take care of you.”

 

You felt his warm, hard length nudging against your entrance, and your breathing hitched. He gently pushed himself inside you, and you felt like he was filling you in a way no one else ever could. Your eyes widened in a mixture of shock and pleasure.

 

Slowly, he began to move, thrusting into you with a steady rhythm. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you with each movement. The sensation was indescribable, like fire and ice coursing through your veins.

 

Your fingers dug into his back, pulling him closer as the pleasure built within you. “Harder, please.” You begged; your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart.

Spencer, not one to deny you anything, increased his pace, driving into you harder and faster. His eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the raw passion and need reflected back at you.

It wasn't long before the tension within you reached its peak, and you cried out as you collapsed over the edge. Spencer's thrusts grew more intense, and before you knew it, he too was surrendering to the pleasure, the satisfaction of giving you what you've always needed.

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[imthebadguyyy]

whose afraid of little old me?

pairing : f1 drivers x reader

fandom : f1

series : the tortured poets department

synopsis : your journey as a female driver alongside the rest of the grid.

warnings : angst

a/n : first time writing a platonic drivers x reader! let me know what you think! :)

you don't get to tell me about sad..

The press room was buzzing with anticipation as the Formula 1 drivers filed in for the pre-race conference. As the only female driver on the grid, you were well aware of the extra attention you garnered, but you had grown used to it. Today, you were seated between Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc, both of whom you had become close friends with during your time at Mercedes.

The questions started out as they always did: race strategies, car updates, and general banter about the upcoming Grand Prix. You handled them with the confidence and poise that had become your trademark. Then, a reporter from the back of the room stood up, his tone less than friendly

"Y/N," he began, "there's been a lot of talk about the difficulties you've faced as the only female driver on the grid. Some say you're out of your depth and that your results reflect that. How do you respond to the criticism that you don't belong here and that it's just too hard for you?"

You felt a surge of frustration. This wasn’t the first time you’d faced such pointed and unfair questions, but today, it stung more than usual. Before you could respond, you felt Lewis shift beside you, a silent show of support. Taking a deep breath, you looked the reporter in the eye.

"You don’t get to tell me about sad," you said, your voice steady and firm. "You don’t get to tell me about the difficulties I’ve faced or what I can handle. I’ve earned my place here just like every other driver on this grid, through talent, hard work, and perseverance. Criticism and doubt are part of the journey, but I’m here to stay."

The room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. For a moment, the reporter looked taken aback, but before he could say anything, Charles spoke up.

"Y/N has proven time and again that she belongs here," Charles said, his tone protective. "She’s one of the most dedicated and talented drivers I know, and it’s about time she gets the respect she deserves."

Lewis nodded, leaning forward to address the room. "We’re a team, and we support each other. Y/N has brought incredible strength and determination to Mercedes, and I have no doubt she’ll continue to achieve great things. If anyone here thinks otherwise, they clearly haven’t been paying attention."

The support from your fellow drivers warmed your heart, and you saw nods of agreement from others around the room. Even drivers from rival teams like Max Verstappen and Lando Norris were giving you supportive looks.

The reporter, clearly outnumbered and outmatched, mumbled a quick thank you and sat down. The rest of the press conference went smoothly, with more respectful and genuine questions.

As you left the stage, Lewis put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You handled that perfectly, Y/N. Don't let anyone make you doubt yourself."

Charles grinned, giving you a thumbs-up. "We’ve got your back, always."

Walking out of the press room with your head held high, you felt a renewed sense of determination. You knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but with the support of your teammates and fellow drivers, you were ready to face any challenge that came your way.

nothing makes me feel more alive...

The roar of the crowd at Silverstone was deafening as you took the final corner, the checkered flag waving wildly in the air. This was it. You were about to win your first Grand Prix, and not just any race—it was Silverstone, the home of British motorsport.

"Y/N, you’ve done it! You’ve won the British Grand Prix!" your race engineer shouted over the radio, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of celebration.

Tears of joy streamed down your face as you crossed the finish line. "Oh my God! We did it! We did it! Thank you, thank you so much!" you screamed, unable to contain your excitement.

As you brought the car to a stop in Parc Fermé, the realization of your achievement hit you full force. You had won. You had really done it. Climbing out of the car, you were immediately surrounded by your jubilant team, all eager to celebrate this historic moment with you. You jumped into their arms, laughter and cheers filling the air.

Lewis, who had finished third, approached with a wide grin. "Incredible job, Y/N! Welcome to the winners' circle," he said, pulling you into a tight hug.

Max, who had taken second place, clapped you on the back. "Amazing race! You deserve this," he said with genuine admiration.

The podium ceremony felt surreal. As you stood on the top step, the anthem playing, you looked out over the sea of fans cheering your name. You felt a wave of pride and accomplishment wash over you. When the national anthem ended, you picked up the bottle of champagne, the weight of it solid and reassuring in your hands.

Lewis and Max joined you, and the three of you shared a look before simultaneously popping the corks and spraying each other with champagne. The cold, fizzy liquid drenched you, but you couldn’t stop laughing, your joy infectious.

Grabbing the microphone for the post-race interview, you took a moment to compose yourself before speaking. "This is the best moment of my life. Nothing makes me feel more alive than being out there on the track, pushing myself to the limit, and achieving something I’ve dreamed about since I was a little girl. Thank you to my team, to the fans, and to everyone who believed in me. This is just the beginning."

The crowd erupted in applause, their cheers echoing in your ears as you continued to celebrate with your team and fellow drivers. This victory was not just a personal triumph, but a statement to everyone watching: you belonged here, and you were just getting started.

As you left the podium, still grinning from ear to ear, you were greeted by more hugs and congratulations from your team. Toto Wolff, your team principal, pulled you into a warm embrace. "I knew you had it in you," he said, his voice full of pride. "This is only the beginning."

Walking away from the podium, champagne-soaked and elated, you felt an overwhelming sense of fulfillment. You had proven to yourself and the world that you could do it. And as you looked out at the sea of faces cheering for you, you knew that nothing could ever take this moment away from you.

so i leap from the gallows and i levitate down your street..

The aftermath of the Spanish Grand Prix was a cacophony of disbelief, exhilaration, and redemption. For weeks, you had been the subject of harsh criticism from pundits and commentators, their scathing remarks suggesting you were a failure, a shame to the sport. They doubted your abilities, questioning your place on the grid. The words stung, but they also fueled a fire within you that blazed brighter than ever.

"So, I leap from the gallows," you whispered to yourself as you took the final corner, the finish line in sight. The car beneath you was an extension of your will, each turn, each acceleration a defiant answer to the doubters. You crossed the line first, your heart pounding as you realized what you had just achieved.

"Y/N, you did it! You won the Spanish Grand Prix!" your race engineer's voice crackled over the radio, bursting with pride and excitement.

"I did it," you repeated, the weight of your victory sinking in. "We did it!"

The cool-down lap was a blur of tears and joy. You had proven them wrong. The people who had criticized you, who had doubted your skill and determination, were silenced by the roar of your engine and the unwavering support of your team.

As you pulled into Parc Fermé, the roar of the crowd was deafening. Stepping out of the car, you were immediately enveloped in the arms of your team, their cheers and tears mingling with your own. You felt a sense of triumph that was almost surreal, a weight lifting off your shoulders.

Carlos Sainz, who had finished second, approached with a proud smile. "Incredible drive, Y/N. You showed them all," he said, pulling you into a congratulatory hug.

Oscar Piastri, who had finished third, hugged you tight"That was one hell of a race. Well done," he said, his voice affectionate.

The podium ceremony was a whirlwind of emotions. Standing on the top step, the anthem playing in the background, you felt a sense of vindication. The crowd’s cheers were a testament to your hard work and resilience.

When the time came to spray the champagne, you did so with a vengeance, soaking Carlos and Oscar as they laughed and joined in the celebration. The cold spray was a refreshing reminder of the moment you had seized, the victory you had earned.

During the post-race interview, you held the microphone firmly, looking out at the sea of fans and reporters. "For those who doubted me," you began, your voice steady and strong, "this is my answer. So I leap from the gallows, and I levitate down your street. I've faced the criticisms, the doubts, and I’ve come out on top. This win is for my team, for my supporters, and for everyone who believes that dreams are worth fighting for."

The crowd erupted into applause, their cheers a resounding affirmation of your triumph. As you left the stage, still soaked in champagne and adrenaline, you felt lighter than air. You had not only proven your critics wrong, but you had also proven something to yourself: that you were capable of greatness.

Back in the garage, Toto greeted you with a proud smile. "You were phenomenal out there. This is just the beginning," he said, his voice filled with conviction.

Walking through the paddock, the looks of respect and admiration from fellow drivers and team members were a stark contrast to the doubts and criticisms you had faced. You had leapt from the metaphorical gallows and soared, showing everyone that you were here to stay.

As you drove out of the circuit later that evening, the streets of Barcelona seemed to glow with a new light. The city's energy matched your own, vibrant and unstoppable. You had faced the gallows and emerged victorious, levitating down the streets of triumph and possibility. And you knew, deep in your heart, that this was just the beginning of an incredible journey

whose afraid of little old me? you should be...

The glitz and glamour of the post-race party in Monaco was in full swing, with drivers, team principals, and VIP guests mingling in celebration of another thrilling Grand Prix. You were enjoying the night, surrounded by the camaraderie of your fellow drivers and the electric atmosphere of the event.

As you made your way through the crowd, chatting with Carlos and Lando, a random guy who clearly wasn’t part of the usual racing crowd approached. He had a smug look on his face, his steps unsteady from one too many drinks.

"Hey, isn’t this the famous female driver?" he said loudly, drawing the attention of those around him. "Nice of you to join us, sweetheart. Shouldn’t you be somewhere polishing your car or something? Or maybe you’re just here because you look good in a dress."

His words were met with a few awkward chuckles from those who didn’t know how to react. You felt a surge of anger but kept your composure. Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer, your eyes locking onto his.

"You know," you began, your voice calm but laced with steel, "it’s funny you mention polishing cars. Considering you probably have never even seen the inside of one that’s been on a racetrack, I’d say your expertise on the subject is pretty limited. As for my looks, let’s just say I'd rather be known for my talent than for crashing parties and making snarky remarks to people I don’t know."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. The guy’s smirk faltered, replaced by a look of surprise and irritation. Before he could respond, you continued.

"I’ve worked hard to get where I am. Every race, every victory, is a testament to my skill and dedication. You can try to demean me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that I’ve earned my place here. And by the way, the only reason you’re even noticed right now is because you’re making a scene. Maybe next time, you should think before you speak."

A ripple of laughter and applause broke out among the onlookers. The guy’s face reddened with embarrassment and anger, but he had no retort. He muttered something under his breath and turned away.

Lando, who had been watching the exchange with an amused grin, stepped forward. "You should be afraid of her," he said to the group, his tone light but sincere. "She’s not just fast on the track, she’s got the sharpest tongue in the paddock."

You smiled at Lando, appreciating his support. "Thanks, Lando. Sometimes people need a reminder."

Carlos nodded, clapping you on the back. "You handled that perfectly. That guy didn’t know what hit him."

With a sweet, innocent expression, you tilted your head slightly and asked, "Who's afraid of little old me?"

Carlos turned to the retreating guy, his tone serious and unwavering. "You should be."

The random guy's pace quickened as he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you, Carlos, and Lando laughing and feeling victorious. The atmosphere lightened, and you found yourself surrounded by friends and allies who respected and supported you. The sting of the random guy’s words faded quickly, replaced by the warmth of genuine camaraderie. You knew that the road ahead would have its challenges, but moments like this reminded you that you were more than capable of facing them head-on.

Later, as you stood on a balcony overlooking the glittering Monaco skyline, Lando joined you, offering a glass of champagne. "To standing up for yourself," he toasted.

You clinked glasses, feeling a renewed sense of determination. "To proving them wrong," you replied, taking a sip and savoring the sweet taste of victory and vindication.

is it a wonder i broke, let's hear one more joke...

The opulent ballroom of the Monaco casino was alight with the energy of a sponsorship party, a glittering event where drivers mingled with sponsors, team principals, and celebrities. You were making your way through the crowd, putting on a brave face despite the whispers and stares. It was supposed to be a night of celebration, but for you, it was quickly turning into a test of endurance.

One of the sponsors, a man named Richard, seemed to have taken a special interest in making snide remarks at your expense. His laughter echoed through the room as he made yet another joke about you. "Oh, look, it’s the token female driver! How many races did you have to finish to get this seat? Or is it more about how you look in the team’s gear?" he jeered, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.

The people around him chuckled awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. You forced a smile, trying to brush it off, but inside, you felt your confidence crumbling. You excused yourself, mumbling something about needing to use the restroom, and quickly made your way to the nearest bathroom.

Once inside, you locked the door behind you and let the tears fall. The pressure, the constant scrutiny, the never-ending need to prove yourself—it all came crashing down. You sank to the floor, sobbing quietly, feeling utterly alone in that moment.

Unbeknownst to you, Lewis Hamilton had been watching from a distance. He had seen the way Richard had been treating you all night and noticed the moment you fled. Concerned, he made his way to the bathroom, hesitating only for a moment before gently knocking on the door.

"Y/N? It’s Lewis. Are you okay?" he called softly.

Hearing his voice, you tried to pull yourself together, wiping at your tears. "I’m fine, Lewis. Just… give me a moment."

But Lewis wasn’t about to leave you alone. He opened the door slowly, stepping inside and closing it behind him. When he saw you sitting on the floor, tears streaming down your face, his heart broke. He crouched down beside you, his expression one of deep empathy.

"Hey," he said gently, his voice soft and soothing. "I’m here. Talk to me."

You looked up at him, your vision blurred by tears. "It’s just… it’s too much sometimes, you know? The jokes, the comments… I’m trying so hard, but it feels like it’s never enough."

Lewis reached out, taking your hand in his. "You are more than enough, Y/N. You are an incredible driver and an even more incredible person. Don’t let anyone, especially not some ignorant sponsor, make you feel otherwise."

His words brought fresh tears to your eyes, but this time they were tears of gratitude. "Thank you, Lewis," you whispered, your voice trembling.

He sat down beside you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "I know it’s hard. I’ve been there, too. But you have to remember why you’re here. You’ve earned your place on the grid. You’ve proven yourself time and time again. And you’ve got so many people who believe in you, including me."

You buried your face in his shoulder, taking comfort in his presence. "I just don’t know how much more of this I can take," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

Lewis pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "You are stronger than you think. And you don’t have to face this alone. We’re a team, remember? We’ve got your back."

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, easing the pain and fear. You took a deep breath, feeling a bit more grounded. "Thanks, Lewis. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

He smiled, brushing a tear from your cheek. "You’ll never have to find out. Now, how about we go back out there and show them what you’re made of?"

With his support, you felt a renewed sense of determination. You nodded, allowing him to help you to your feet. As you both left the bathroom, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you weren’t facing them alone. You had friends, allies, and a team who believed in you, and that made all the difference.

i was tame, i was gentle, till the circus life made me mean..

The press conference room was packed, the atmosphere buzzing with anticipation. You sat between two fellow drivers, trying to maintain your composure as the questions came one after another. Lately, the questions directed at you had become more personal and offensive, straying far from your performance on the track.

As the reporters took turns, a journalist from the back raised his hand and was given the microphone. He stood up, a smug look on his face. "Y/N, there's been a lot of curiosity among fans about what kind of underwear you wear under your race suit. Care to enlighten us?"

The room fell silent, the air thick with tension. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt a mix of anger and disbelief. This was the final straw.

You leaned forward, your eyes blazing. "Are you serious? I'm here to talk about my performance on the track, not my underwear. The fact that you think it's appropriate to ask me such a disrespectful and invasive question speaks volumes about your professionalism—or lack thereof."

The reporter's face turned red as he tried to stammer a response, but you cut him off, your voice steady and strong. "I have worked incredibly hard to earn my place here, just like every other driver on this grid. I will not tolerate being reduced to such trivial and sexist remarks. If you can't treat me with the same respect you show my male colleagues, then you have no place in this room."

You stood up abruptly, the microphone falling silent as you walked out of the press conference, your head held high. The room was stunned into silence, the other reporters unsure how to react.

Lewis, who was sitting beside you, took the microphone next. "That was completely unacceptable," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Y/N is a talented driver who deserves respect. It's disgraceful that she has to deal with questions like that."

Carlos, seated on your other side, nodded in agreement. "We are here to discuss our careers and our performance, not to entertain inappropriate and sexist questions. Y/N handled that with grace, and she has our full support."

The room remained silent, the gravity of the situation sinking The other drivers on the stage exchanged looks of solidarity, making it clear that they stood with you.

Backstage, you leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. The door opened, and Lewis and Carlos walked in, their expressions filled with concern and support.

"Hey," Lewis said softly, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You did the right thing. That was completely out of line."

Carlos nodded, giving you a small, encouraging smile. "You handled it perfectly. We're all behind you."

You smiled weakly, grateful for their support. "Thanks, guys. I just couldn't take it anymore."

Lewis shook his head, his eyes filled with determination. "No one should have to deal with that. We're going to make sure it doesn't happen again."

Feeling a surge of gratitude and strength from their words, you nodded. "Together, we can make a difference."

As you returned to the paddock, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. You knew that you had allies who respected and supported you, and you were determined to continue proving yourself on and off the track. The road ahead would still have its challenges, but you were ready to face them head-on, with your head held high and your team by your side.

then say they didn't do it to hurt me, but what if they did?...

The news hit you like a freight train. Mercedes had decided to drop you from the team for the next season. The decision came shortly after Lewis announced his departure to Ferrari, leaving you feeling isolated and abandoned. You had poured your heart and soul into your racing career, and now it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under you.

The paddock was a whirlwind of activity as the season drew to a close, but you felt like a ghost moving through it. Every smile, every cheer, felt like a reminder of what you were losing. You tried to put on a brave face, but inside, you were struggling.

One evening, after a particularly tough day, you found yourself wandering aimlessly through the paddock. Your thoughts were a chaotic mix of anger, sadness, and confusion. You ended up in a quiet corner, away from the prying eyes and constant noise, trying to hold yourself together.

Charles noticed you standing there, your shoulders slumped and your expression distant. He approached you cautiously, his concern evident. "Y/N, are you okay?"

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears. "They dropped me, Charles. Mercedes just dropped me. And with Lewis leaving too... I feel so alone."

Charles stepped closer, his expression sympathetic. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I know this must be incredibly hard for you."

You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep your composure. "Why did they do this, Charles? After everything, why now?"

Charles gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "They didn't do it to hurt you. Sometimes teams make decisions that are hard to understand, but it's not always about us personally."

His words were meant to comfort, but they only made the pain sharper. "But what if they did?" you whispered, your voice breaking. "What if they did it to hurt me?"

The dam broke, and the tears you had been holding back spilled over. Charles pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried. His embrace was warm and comforting, offering a safe space to release the torrent of emotions you had been keeping inside.

"It's okay, let it out," Charles murmured softly, his voice soothing. "You're not alone, Y/N. We're all here for you."

You clung to him, the weight of your grief and fear pouring out. "I gave everything to this team," you sobbed. "I don't know what to do now."

Charles held you tighter, his heart aching for you. "I know it's hard, but this isn't the end. You're an incredible driver, and there are other teams out there that would be lucky to have you. Don't let this define you."

His words, filled with sincerity and belief, began to cut through the fog of despair. You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. "Thank you, Charles. I just... I just needed to hear that."

He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a gentle smile. "You're stronger than you know, Y/N. And whatever happens next, you're going to come out of this even stronger."

As the night grew darker, you found a glimmer of hope in Charles's words and his unwavering support. You knew the road ahead would be challenging, but you also knew you weren't alone. With friends like Charles by your side, and the rest of the grid, you could face whatever came next. And as you stood there, taking comfort in his presence, you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could rise from this setback and prove everyone wrong.

I want to snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me...

The atmosphere in the Mercedes factory was tense as Toto Wolff stepped up to the podium, his expression somber. You stood among your colleagues, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for the announcement. Deep down, you knew what was coming, but hearing it confirmed in front of the entire team was another blow altogether.

"Toto, are we ready to go live?" a technician whispered, adjusting the cameras to capture the moment.

Toto nodded, his gaze scanning the room. "Yes, let's begin."

The room fell silent as the live broadcast began. Toto cleared his throat, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. "Good afternoon, everyone. I come to you today with news that is difficult for all of us to hear."

You felt a lump form in your throat as you braced yourself for what was to come. Toto continued, his words echoing through the factory.

"After much consideration and evaluation, we have made the decision to part ways with one of our drivers," he announced, his tone measured. "It is never an easy decision to make, and it is one that we do not take lightly."

The room seemed to hold its breath as Toto paused, the weight of his words hanging in the air. You glanced around, noting the somber expressions on the faces of your colleagues. They were your teammates, your friends, and the thought of leaving them behind felt like a knife to the heart.

"And so, it is with a heavy heart that I must announce that Y/N will be leaving the team at the end of the season," Toto said, his voice faltering slightly. "We want to thank her for her dedication, her hard work, and her contributions to the team. She will always be a part of the Mercedes family, and we wish her all the best in her future endeavors."

The room erupted into a mix of stunned silence and whispered conversations. You stood there, trying to process the news, trying to swallow down the bitter taste of disappointment and betrayal. It was all you could do to keep from exploding in anger, from snarling and lashing out at the injustice of it all.

As Toto stepped down from the podium, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning, you met the sympathetic gaze of your teammate, Lewis. His eyes were filled with understanding and compassion, a silent acknowledgment of the pain you were feeling.

But as much as you wanted to scream, to demand answers, you knew that now was not the time. You had to swallow down your anger, to keep your composure in front of your colleagues. You had to be the bigger person, to leave with dignity and grace.

So you stood there, your jaw clenched, your fists tight at your sides, as the reality of the situation sank in. You would leave Mercedes behind, but you would carry the memories, the victories, and the lessons with you. And as you walked out of the factory for the last time, you vowed to channel your anger and disappointment into fuel for the next chapter of your racing career.

you wouldnt last an hour in the asylum where they raised me..

The news spread like wildfire through the paddock: you had been signed by Red Bull Racing for the upcoming season. As you made your way through the bustling crowd, you could feel the weight of judgmental eyes boring into you. People whispered behind your back, calling you a traitor, questioning your loyalty to your former team.

But you held your head high, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. You had made your decision, and you weren't about to let the opinions of others sway you. After all, this was Formula 1—a cutthroat world where alliances shifted like the wind, and loyalty was a luxury few could afford.

As you approached the garage, you heard the murmurs grow louder. "Can you believe she signed with Red Bull? What a traitor."

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face the source of the comments. It was one of your former colleagues, his expression filled with disdain. "You're a traitor, Y/N. How could you do this to us?"

You met his gaze head-on, your eyes flashing with defiance. "It's a cutthroat game," you replied coolly. "You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me."

The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the ruthless world you had grown up in. You had fought tooth and nail to get to where you were, and you weren't about to apologize for seizing an opportunity to further your career.

Turning on your heel, you continued toward the Red Bull garage, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over you. You may have ruffled some feathers, but you had made the right choice for yourself. And as you entered the garage, surrounded by your new teammates and friends who had stood by your side through it all, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

that I'm fearsome, and I'm wretched, and I'm wrong..

You sat in your motorhome, scrolling through Instagram after the chaotic Monza Grand Prix. The race had been eventful, to say the least, with a tense moment between you and Hulkenberg that had sparked controversy among fans and pundits alike.

As you scrolled through your feed, you couldn't escape the barrage of comments and messages directed at you. People were blaming you for the incident, calling you fearsome, wretched, and wrong. It felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on your shoulders, suffocating you with guilt and frustration.

But you refused to let the negativity consume you. Taking a deep breath, you opened the camera app on your phone and snapped a quick selfie. In the photo, you wore a determined expression, your eyes flashing with defiance.

You typed out a caption to accompany the photo, your fingers moving with purpose. "I'm fearsome, wretched, and I'm wrong," you wrote, the words a defiant declaration of self-acceptance and resilience.

With a sense of satisfaction, you hit the share button, knowing that your message would reach far and wide. It was a reminder to yourself—and to the world—that you were not defined by one moment, one mistake. You were a force to be reckoned with, flaws and all, and you weren't afraid to own it.

a/n : first ever platonic driver story! should I look into a romantic angle with anyone? any suggestions etc would be highly appreciated! happy reading and much love! as always, likes, reblogs, comments etc are always appreciated ❤️

TAGS

f1 : @ivegotparticulartaste @moon-enthusiast @superlegend216 @theonly1outof-a-billion

charles : - @chanshintien @eternalharry @janeholt @magicalcowboyarbiter @oneafterdark @leclerc13 @moon-enthusiast @crlsummer @superlegend216 @electrobutterfly @formula1mount @f1lover20 @livsters @inkfable @ssararuffoni

ttpd series - @ateezseonghwanot @khaylin27 @imgondeletedis @jj-ever-lovely-jewel @stylestastic

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM ❤️

[holylulusworld]

Jealousy a la Bucky

Summary: He’s not jealous.

Pairing: (Soft)Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: jealous Bucky, Bucky is smitten for the reader, Steve being a tease, fluff, flirting

He’s not jealous. Never. He’s not even looking your way when you talk to one of his business partners. Nope. He’s not squaring his jaw or balling his hands into fists. No, of course not.

What he does is sulk at the bar, a pout on his lips, and a grumpy expression on his face. He nips at his drink while following your every move.

“That her?” Steve finally asks. He watched his friend stare at you from afar for almost half an hour. Now he wants to tease him. “I guess she’s good at making new friends, huh? A pretty dame like her. All alone. Wearing a dress like that.”

“First and final warning,” Bucky points his index finger at his friend and brother-in-crime. “I saved your life more than once. But I will take it if you say one more thing about that woman.”

“Aw, it finally happened,” sipping at his drink Steve watches his friend frown deeply. You giggle at something Clint Barton, one of his confidants and notorious weapon dealers, said. “James Buchanan Barnes is in love.”

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky grunts. “If you say one more word, you’ll lose your tongue and more.” He angrily glares at Barton, swearing on his mother’s grave he’ll kill the man if he dares to touch you. “I’m not in love.” 

He’s not in love. Not at all. Of course, not. James Buchanan Barnes, a notorious mobster, and stone-cold weapon dealer doesn’t fall in love.

Then, why can’t he take his eyes off you, his sweet new assistant? The woman taking care of his life. “She brings me food and makes my appointments. Y/N is only my assistant. Stop acting like I lost my dead heart to that beautiful, caring, and sweet girl.”

“You are so in love with her,” Steve grins and raises his glass. “To James Buchanan Barnes, the most wanted bachelor who finally got tamed. I hope you know I want to be your best man at your wedding.”

Bucky glares at Steve. He wants to say something, or (and) punch his friend’s face when someone calls his name. Your sweet voice brings him out of his rage and back to reality. 

“Mr. Barnes, you should eat something,” you clear your throat to get your boss’s attention. “Sir, I got you a plate filled with all the things you like.”

“All the things I like?” He drops his eyes to the plate you hold. “You mean all the things you like, doll.”

You giggle at the pet name. Bucky Barnes is a dangerous man, and you should be afraid to be even close to him. Oddly, you feel the safest around your boss. He’s a big teddy bear when it comes to you.

“Fine, I got you the same things I like so we can share.”

“You want to share the food with Bucky?” Steve swallows thickly when his friend snaps his head toward him. “He’s a food thief. You should keep a close eye on that food.”

“I like sharing,” you softly say. “Mr. Barnes often forgets to eat. I made it my mission to take care of him and his well-being.”

Steve chokes on his drink at the look Bucky gives you. Puppy dog eyes. James Buchanan Barnes looks at you like you are a miracle to him. 

“Uh-cool,” the blonde says. “I’ll grab some food too. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Same,” you are busy offering food to your boss and barely look at Steve. “Now, what do you want to taste first?”

‘Your lips’, Bucky thinks to himself but doesn’t say it out loud. “What do you recommend?”

“We could start with the salmon and then, you should try the green asparagus. It’s delicious and the best I ever ate. OH, and they have the best desserts, Bucky.” You gasp as you just called your boss by his name. “I’m sorry, Sir…I didn’t…I…”

“My name sounds like a melody on your tongue,” Bucky grabs the salmon to wolf it down. You just stare at him, and let his words sink in. 

“That was…” you snort. “Oh my god! So funny. I mean…sorry…but…that was the lamest pick-up line ever,” you step closer to whisper in his ear. “You know, if you like me, you can just ask me out.”

“It was poetic and—” He tries to argue until he realizes you kinda asked him out. “Do you want to go on a date with me, doll?”

“Phew, finally,” you smirk. “I wouldn’t have made it through the night if I talked to Mr. Barton for much longer. He wanted me to have a look at his bow. I still don’t know what he meant.”

“His bow?” Bucky hiccups. “That bastard wanted to show you his bow?”

“Hmm…I told him that you already offered to show me your gun.”

“Right now?” He nervously shifts on his feet, and hopefully looks at you.

“No,” you pat his chest and smile. “I don’t look at a man’s gun before the second date…or the third.”

“I bet you’ll make an exception for me,” he takes the plate out of your hands and throws it over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ll order room service for us.”

“I’m keeping you up on that promise, Sir…”

You will have room service, in Paris only a few hours later…

Tags in reblog.

[rainylana]

“It’s just a cut.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: too many times had eddie tended to your wounds and broken heart. he’s had enough.

a potential series if you guys want it! let me know!

warnings: extremely angsty and not for everyone! i tried to make this as real as possible for both sides and it’s not an easy read. please tread with caution. therefore warnings are: physical and emotional abuse by readers mother, wounds and blood, mentions of weighed and irregular eating habits, low confidence and self esteem mentions, language, very angsty fight between reader and eddie, broken nose, lots of tears, reader still loves her mother very much despite her actions. eddie isn’t a jerk, i didn’t try to convey him that way, but this is a heavy subject and it needed to feel real. i dated a jerk and know what some of this can be like. requested by @h-ness1944 i hope you like this dear! i hope i did it justice to what you wanted!

Was he mad? You couldn’t tell. He hadn’t said anything in almost twenty minutes. Your heart was racing. The last thing you wanted was to loose him. You knew it was getting to him, seeing you all cut up and beaten on, but what else was there to do?

Your shirt was off, sitting on the couch in your bra and jeans as you sniffled, tears that had long since dried and left a sticky residue on your cheeks, mascara dark and streaked. Your mom had thrown a beer bottle at you again, a normal occurrence, they just didn’t usually hit you. It had sliced the skin on your back open. Luckily, it wasn’t bad enough to need stitches, but that didn’t matter to Eddie.

You regretted coming over. You shouldn’t have bothered him with it. You could feel the anger and hurt radiating off of him. You had sworn him to secrecy, and you could see the toll it took on him.

Your mom had increasingly got more creative when it came to dealing out punishments. She had ever since she started heavily drinking, when your dad had left her. You loved your dad and missed him dearly, but you didn’t blame him for leaving her. He had to take care of himself too. If he knew what your mom did, he’d surely come back to stop her. You couldn’t do that to him. At the end of the day, you could endure it, you just weren’t sure if Eddie could anymore.

“Please say something.” Your voice was hoarse.

You had your back to him, wincing slightly as he dapped a pad of alcohol on your cut, trying to make sure it didn’t get caught with an infection.

“What do you want me to say?” His voice barely conveyed any emotion.

When you had showed up, blood seeping through your shirt, he’d done what he did every time, debated taking you to the hospital, but your panicked state always talked him out of it. He’d sunk into protective mode, guiding you to the couch and pulling your shirt off, shushing you gently and telling you he’d get you fixed up. That was twenty five minutes ago. He was too quiet now.

His voice brought fresh tears to your eyes. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

He sighed heavily, cursing himself. There was no need to be cold toward you. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He squeezed your shoulder. “I’m almost finished.”

He wiped your wound dry, covering it with a gauze and bandage. He’d stocked up on medical supplies a few months ago. One night he had cried when he realized just how quickly it was going. He was terrified for you, afraid one day, you wouldn’t walk through the door needing aid from your wounds. One day it would be Hopper, hat in his hands and offering his condolences. He had thought about going to the police so many times behind your back, but he’d loose you then. Was he being selfish?

“Please don’t hate me.” You cried emotionally, looking down to your shoes.

“Y/n,” He turned you gently, grabbing your chin. “I do not hate you.” His thumb traced your bottom lip, watching as you sniffled and cried, his other hand swiping away some tears that fell down your cheek. “Just calm down, honey.” He raised his chin to you, instructing softly. He didn’t want you to get yourself worked up like you usually did.

You breathed in the hands that held you upright, face beat red and blotchy. You body ached with pain and guilt. You wanted nothing more to curl up in his chest, but you fought the urge. He might not have wanted you too.

“What happened this time?” He said, reaching to the floor to hand you your shirt. “Was she drinking?”

You told him what happened, or lack of what happened. It was never really much of anything. She’d scream at you, call you names that you couldn’t repeat. Throw things and hit you. You said, nothing really, shrugging your shoulders. There was a time where Eddie would have demanded more of an answer, but he grew to realize that sometimes it never really was anything. That’s just how your mother was.

Eddie bit down hard on his lip, looking away from you to the kitchen. “Spend the weekend here with me. I don’t want you going back tonight.” He’d wanted you to move in with him for so long, but you never could leave your mother. He didn’t understand that, and your fought about it several times.

“Eddie?” You grabbed at his knee, eyes fearful and wide. “I really am sorry.”

He grabbed your hand and kissed it, but said nothing as he got up and disappeared into the bathroom. He couldn’t help it. With each time you came barging in during the night, day, whatever, it chipped away at his heart. He’d watched you change over the last year as your mother’s words became more harsh. You accepted the beatings more easily, but the way she spoke to you had taken it’s toll. He could see that clear as a bell.

Your self confidence had plummeted. You didn’t like to reveal any of your skin that you didn’t have to. You were much quieter than you used to be, only really speaking to him or some of the members of hellfire. Wayne, too, of course.

He was washing his hands, trying his best to not smash the mirror in front of him. He was being distant and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. How much longer until you’d have to undergo surgery? How much longer until the words hurt so bad you’d kill yourself just to get away from it? How much longer until he’d be standing by your grave?

He looked up to find tour reflection, tearful and afraid. He knew what you were thinking. You knew what he was thinking. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your lips to his back to hold him. He relaxed into your touch, hands still slightly wet from the sink.

“Don’t worry about me, Ed’.” You whispered. “I’ll be okay.”

His hands held yours above his stomach, staring at your sad reflection. “No, you won’t.” He answers honestly, a small shake of his head that you barely miss. “Don’t lie to yourself.”

You were always crying. You were always sad. You were always so heartbroken, a shell of what you once used to be.

“It’s just a cut.” You defended, causing him to shrivel under your touch and pull away, quickly drying his hands with a towel and leaving the bathroom.

“Don’t start that shit.” He said lowly, entering your bedroom. “It’s not a cut. It’s never just a cut. It’s so much more than that.”

“Okay, okay, well-” You started to rant, mouth opening but falling closed at a loss of words.

He waited for you to speak.

“I don’t know what to say.” You cross your arms defensively. “I just- I don’t want you to worry. I’m sorry I came here. I shouldn’t have.”

No. That’s the last thing he wanted you to think. You were always welcome and he would always look after you. He cursed under his breath, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “Baby, no, that’s not what I’m saying.” He comes to you, grabbing your shoulders.

He pulls you into his chest, you’re a blubbering, whimpering mess. He’s careful to not touch your bandage. “I can’t not worry about you, angel.” His voice is full and close to breaking.

“You don’t understand how hard it is for me to watch you suffer like this. I can’t stand to see you wither away.” His eyes tear up, holding the back of your head. “I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to keep quiet, sweetheart.”

You’re sobs increase and you’re grasping on to him for dear life.

“I know you love her, baby, but she’s not good for you.” His voice shakes and so does his bottom lip. “God, I wish I could just take you away.”

You’re too distraught to say anything. You hold him and he holds you.

•

“I’m done, y/n.” Eddie’s got angry tears falling down his face, voice filled with a rage full venom he was dying to take out on something, anything. “I’m done with this shit. Either you go to the police or I will.”

“Eddie, please!” You’re begging him, practically on your knees as you sob hysterically. “Please, don’t! I’m sorry! It won’t happen again, I swear it!”

“You say that every time!” He says incredulously, flaying his arms about like you’d gone mad. “And every time nothing changes!”

It had been bad this time. Your mom had said absolutely disgusting things to you, taking about your weight, making remarks about the way you talked and how Eddie was crazy for being with you. You’d made the mistake of trying to stand up to her. Your nose was most likely broken from being shoved into the wall, the crunch still loud in your ears that made you cringe from the memory. The blood had dried, but it hurt to breath. Your tears caused you immense pain from the weight of your cries, the heaves from your chest making your face ache.

Eddie stepped back and sobbed softly, holding his head with a hand and cursed. “Fuck.” He couldn’t hold back his emotions this time.

You brought up your hand to your mouth, trying your best to calm down, but it wasn’t doing much good. “Eddie, please!” You whimpered. “You can’t say anything. You swore!”

“I know I did!” He snapped, throwing down his arm. “You swore me to something that you shouldn’t have! Now I’m stuck watching you get beat on every day! Do you know what the hell that does to me?” He was shouting now, tears boiling down your face. You turned away from him and bawled.

In the moment, he wondered if he was any better than your mother, yelling at you and making you cry. Maybe later, he’d hate himself for it, but he couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“Look at this picture.” He tore out his wallet and flipped it open, taking out the polaroid of you that he kept in the first sleeve. “Look at how happy you were there.” It was only a few years ago, back when the antics of your mother began. You were smiling with full teeth, wearing a pretty pink dress and face decorated with happiness and joy.

“You see how different you look?” He held the picture to your face. “You’re too thin. You don’t eat. You’ve got bruises all over you. I haven’t seen you smile like that in years.”

Your nose started bleeding again, you could feel the cool, metallic taste of blood on your upper lip. Eddie watched it drop down, his tear falling in sync with your blood.

“You can’t make me keep doing this, y/n.” He said your, shaking his head and grasping at the picture. “I love you too much to watch you get hurt. I’m giving you a choice, darlin’. It’s either you or me.”

“No.” You shake your head. “She won’t survive in jail, Eddie! She needs me to take care of her!” Your chest heaves through tears, a panicked anxiety making you hysterical. “Please, Eddie, please!” You fall to the floor at his feet, grasping at his knees, begging him to forget it all. You had snot and blood, hot tears falling down your face, making your skin red and blotchy.

You pulled at him and sobbed, and Eddie just didn’t know what to do. Both of your hearts were breaking. He held his hands at your head, and he slowly looked up at the ceiling and cried with you. “I can’t do it anymore, baby.” He whimpered. “I need you safe. I can’t wait until it’s too late. I won’t have you dying on me.”

“Eddie, please!” You’re hysterical, squeezing his legs.

“If you hate me it’s okay.” He sniffles, wiping a hand over his face. “I just need you safe. That’s all I need.”

You grow angry at his defiance, pushing yourself off the ground. “I said no, Eddie! She’s my mother, not yours!” You spat, a sudden change of emotion that had him reeling back.

“Y/n, please.” He begged, closing his eyes. “I- I can’t. I just..I just can’t anymore. You’re asking me to do the impossible. Do I have to watch you be killed!” He shouts at the end, eyes burning red with angry, hurt tears.

“I’ll break up with you!” You scream, the ache in your nose making you groan. “I swear to god, Eddie, if you tell anyone we’re done!”

It all went silent. Eddie cried. You cried. Hearts were racing and limbs were trembling. He took a slow, deep breath. “I have to.” It was all he said, keeping his eye on you, but it was enough.

With a cold glare, you were slamming the door on the way out.

[thewriterg]

hush puppy

A/n: oh wow headcannons so cute I wrote this while I was half asleep so… —kinktober day; 23—

warning(s); SMUT, power dynamic, degradation, praise, dry humping, pegging, pet names, and language

secret subs! who probably told you they were doms the first time you even brought up sex in fear that you would think how they actually wanted to be treated was gross and we’re afraid you wouldn’t like them if so

secret subs! who used to make themselves nauseous when previous flings would cry under them begging on their cock while degrading phrases were forced from his lips burning his tongue and ended not enjoying sex for a while

secret subs! who gets hard from you calling them a good boy even if they were doing something harmless like washing the dishes that has them rushing towards the bathroom to take care of the growing tint in their pants

secret subs! who act very poised and carry themselves with confidence that you can break down in seconds by a few words and light feathery touches to… sensitive areas

secret subs! who look up fem doms and are aching soon enough face flushed skin hot until they finally slam the laptop closed a vowel to never watch something like it again for obvious reasons… the obvious reasons being a stubborn boner pressing against their pants bottoms while they squeeze their legs together trying to take the pain off their aching cock

secret subs! who start testing the waters with little things like seeing how far they can get with making you angry before you tip over the edge and put them back in their place where they should stay

secret subs! who let out rushed moans not realizing what they said as you bounce on their cock your cunt swallowing them whole “ngh- oh fuck miss please”

secret subs! who let you fuck your frustrations out on them after a long day or a situation that didn’t go how you wanted it to “name augh- please, please, please, name” long whimpers and whines that are loud and clear while you thrust your hips into his abused hole hitting his prostate over and over with your strapped cock

secret subs! who act out just for your attention even if it’s the wrong attention or very right in their mind “please mam I’m ahh! I’m s-sorry I won’t do it a-a- oh fuck! I won’t do it again” he sobbed his arms tied behind his back bare now red and bruising ass revealed to you to use at you disposal “no, you wanted my attention? you got my attention baby” You hummed before bringing your hand down harshly the air whooshing behind it coming down with a harsh sting that brought tears to their eyes

Secret subs! who live for degrading insults as much as they do your praise “dirty fucking slut couldn’t wait five minutes before your getting off on my shoe” You chuckle staring down at him his clothed cock rubbing against the tip of your boot under your desk as you ended your online meeting

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Curtain call - Spencer Reid

Summary: You're an actress. Opening night of the show, a cast member is killed. FBI finds out you were the real target... Warnings: mentions of blood, a kiss 2k wc

Adrenaline rushes through you as you run through the wings, catching your breath as you made your way across the backstage. You had just about a minute until you had to be on stage once more, the big number now coming to its end. Rushing into the costume room, you barely acknowledge the one thing obviously wrong with the messy space until you reach for your next costume on the rack, moving all other clothes aside to find it. There’s something inappropriate about your outfit. One, there isn’t supposed to be any blood on it yet there it is, a bloody handprint, running all the way to the bottom of your dress. That’s when your eyes trail down to the bottom of the clothing rack, where you get a clear look of the body lying underneath the row of clothes. Blood was soaking through her entire costume and her skin was turning blue. It’s only when someone runs into the changing room at risk of missing your cue that you hear a gut-wrenching scream. Later, you’d be told that it had come from you. 

Being called into the theatre the next day for “mandatory debriefing” was not what you had expected after such a traumatic experience, but you came in nonetheless, afraid of losing the job after the scene you had caused the night before. After screaming bloody-murder, half the cast ran into the changing rooms to find you hysterically crying over your cast mate’s body, holding her cold hand. The audience had been scared half to death, and after the authorities made it onto the scene, everyone was evacuated out of the theatre. By finding her body, you had cost everyone a night of the show. 

But once you got to the theatre, angry yellow tape cutting off access to the public, you were approached by a handsome man with a serious face and confident posture, offering you his hand even as he walked towards you. “Miss L/N? It’s nice to meet you, I’m Agent Morgan with the FBI, and this is Dr. Reid. We just have a few questions we would like you to answer for us.” Agent Morgan had been a very kind man, who told you every formality that was written in the book, however the man he had introduced to you as Dr. Reid caught your attention in a way you weren’t aware would be good or bad. Dr. Reid stayed silent as Agent Morgan questioned you, deeply staring at you as you answered all that was thrown at you, shooting you quizzical looks every now and then and glancing down at your fidgety hands. 

“Thank you so much for all this Miss L/N, that’s all our questions.” As Agent Morgan began to stand, Dr. Reid looked up at you, “Actually, I do have a few more if you don’t mind.” Agent Morgan shot his partner a confused look, slowly backing down into his seat once more. “Do you know why Evelyn was in the costume room when she was? With my limited understanding of the play, I was under the impression that her character didn’t have any costume changes up to the point you had gotten to before she was killed.” And then those that followed:

“Was anyone other than you supposed to be in the changing rooms at that moment?”

“Is there anyone in the cast who has taken a specific liking or dislike towards you?” 

“Can you remember any specific encounters with anyone as you were going in or out of the theatre?”

“Have you received any eye catching letters from fans recently?” 

Finally, Dr. Reid’s prying had gotten you somewhere, leaving you more terrified than ever, with Agent Morgan reassuring you “It’s just a theory that Dr. Reid has, so we’re only taking precaution. There’s nothing to worry about just yet.” The two agents drove you back to your place where you led them to the cursed fan-letter drawer in your study. "I don't usually read them because there are so many." You admitted, crossing your arms tightly over your torso, observing as the doctor starting frantically pulling letters out of the tidied drawer, eyes briefly scanning the name on the front of each envelope. He threw several to the side, dropping the rest onto the floor after reading the name until nearly ten minutes later, all the letters laid on the floor.

Dr. Reid scrambled to gather the letters he had tossed to the side, standing up hurriedly. You stared at the pile in his hands, glancing back up at the two men for an explanation. "These are all sent from the same person. I'd like to read them and see if I can analyse the language used. I think one of us should stay here with you for the mean time." You nodded at Dr. Reid's words, briefly looking over to his partner for confirmation. "I think Reid should stay here as he looks over the letters." He moved his attention from you to Dr. Reid "You can ask her any questions you might have and it'll be good protection." The partners nodded to each other and almost instantly, Agent Morgan exited the room.

Dr. Reid's hand came up before hesitantly placing it on your shoulder. "Do you mind if I get settled here? Ask some questions?" You shook your head silently before asking "Um, since you'll be here awhile, can I get you something? Coffee?" Dr. Reid nodded, muttering a quiet "That would be lovely." You don't know what it was: maybe the fact that he was here to protect to or trying to save your life, but felt your heart beat in your chest aggressively, as though trying to break through your skin. You brought him coffee, sugar and packets of cream on the side just in case and watched in awe as he emptied out the small cup of sugar. Sweet, just like him.

"Dr. Reid-" "Spencer. Please." You nodded, scooting your chair closer to him as he took a sip of coffee. "Did I make a mistake by not reading these?" The envelopes made loud unfolding noises every time he pulled a letter out of a different one, and he shook his head. "No. I know I wouldn't open so many of these and I have an IQ of 187." You grinned, your chest bubbling with a giggle. Spencer perked up at the sound of your laughter, smiling gently at you. He wasn't trying to joke around, but he was happy to uplift your mood. He studied all the letters laid out in front of him, and immediately noticed a pattern.

'02.02.18, I saw you in Oliver! today, you make an amazing Nancy.'

'14.02.18, I watched you in Oliver! again. You somehow get better the more I see you on stage.'

'07.03.18 I loved you today in the show. I watched the evening show. Did you see me too?'

'17.03.18 I saw your show again. I can be your Bill Sykes if you'd let me."

'11.04.18 I've been waiting anxiously to see you again since Oliver stopped touring. You make a wonderful Veronica.'

'15.04.18 We can be Seventeen together! Let me be your JD.'

"This isn't good." Without any further explanation, he pulled his phone out, dialling a number. "He's using obsessive language and saw her in Oliver! and Heathers, both of which have abusive partners who either kill or try to kill who Y/N's playing. You need to go visit his address right now." Coincidentally, just as he hangs up the phone, your doorbell rings. Your blood runs cold and you stand up instantly, but Spencer steps in front of you, blocking you from going anywhere. "Stay behind me, but stay close." He mutters, pulling his gun from his hostler. Spencer watches you closely, and the profiler in him notices how your breath begins to speed up and your eyes glaze with tears.

One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek and he whispers "Breathe. I'm right here so no one's going to hurt you, okay?" You nod, staying as close as you can to him without touching him until you get to the front door. He peeks through the peephole and his shoulders drop as an "Oh." Escapes him. He opens and closes the door faster than you can register, now holding another letter in his hand, identical to all the ones scattered on your desk.

Six words are written on the letter when Spencer opens him, and his face pales. It was meant to be you. Spencer grabs your hand, dragging you back into your study - the one room in your house with no windows. He locks the door, pressing numbers on his phone again before it's against his ear. "It's definitely him, he just sent another letter. We're in her study but he might be around the premises or returning to his house. I don't plan on getting her out of the study until you get him." The second the words leave his mouth you're processing them, and tears are welling in your eyes once more.

The sound of sniffling gets his attention back to you and his hands are gently coming up to your shoulders, leading you to sit down in a chair. "I'm scared." You whisper helplessly, looking up at the doctor. He crouches down to your level, and hand on your knee. "Hey, what did I say before?" He looks at you intently waiting for an answer. "No one's gonna hurt me." Spencer nods, a soft smile gracing his features. "Yes, exactly. No one's going to hurt you. I have an excellent team looking for that son of a bitch as we speak and I am right here with you."

You nod, not entirely convinced, which he can apparently tell, so he continues with "Come on, look at these muscles. You think anyone will get to you when I have these babies?" His tongue pokes out slightly as he flexes his arms, which are actually more toned than you realise. You laugh again and feel yourself launching your body at him before you can stop yourself, pulling him into a tight hug. He hesitates, but eventually, his arms are pulling you even closer to him, one hand rubbing circles on your back to soothe you. You break the hug, but before you can help yourself, you realise you're leaning into him, pressing your lips against his in a passionate kiss. To your surprise he immediately returns the kiss, his hands cupping your face as he deepens the kiss.

He's panting when he pulls away from you, whispering "This is unprofessional. I'm sorry, I like you, I do, but I shouldn't." Cocking your head to the side, you can't help but smile slightly. "It's only unprofessional for one of us so technically it's not unprofessional at all." His face twists in confusion as he tries processing your words. "That's not how it wo-mmph." the rest of his words are muffled by the second kiss you give him, which you feel him melting into as one of his hands comes to rest on your hip. "After- after the case. After the case, I'll take you on a date." His face falls at his own words, his face reddening in embarrassment. "That is- I mean that's only if you want. I wouldn't take you on a date if you didn't want to, that's totally fine."

The door to the study slams open just as he finishes rambling and you scream in fear, tightly gripping Spencer's hand and turning around expecting to find a middle aged balding creep, only to find a much sexier bald man, putting his gun back in his hostler. "Did you not hear us screaming for you? We thought he might have gotten to you before we found him. Ms. L/N, you're safe, we found him." Agent Morgan's gaze slowly trails to where your hand tightly grips Spencer's, and when he sees the flush on Spencer's face he makes a "Huh" noise, before walking out of the room once more.

taglist: @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist

[astr0logywh0r3]

astro observations pt. 2

1.) venus square mars ppl have trouble with balancing their masculine and feminine energies. they can feel this internally and it can make them feel insecure. one second they feel hyper feminine and the next they feel more masculine. they wish they could find a way to balance both sides of them but it’s a struggle. they could come off too strong from time to time as a result of their inner conflict (might come off too strongly feminine or masc in the moment) and then they’d feel bad ab it later

2.) i think neptune in the 1st/conjunct the asc might be good at making other people feel special 🤨

3.) mars-pluto ppl have that confident inner power within themselves

4.) cancer risings remind me of fluttershy from mlp 💀

5.) saturn conjunct asc/in 1st house might have been extremely shy kids. they have a lot of determination within themselves though. makes a very strong-willed person. go after what they want with resilience and understand the importance of taking calculated steps to achieve their desires. definitely the no-bullshit type

6.) pluto on the ascendant always reminds me of tony montana from scarface for some reason 😭. i guess it makes sense since al pacino has pluto conjunct his asc so idk. it’s just that archetype. tony wasn’t afraid and didn’t stop at anything to reach where he got. a phoenix risen from the ashes. stubborn. that “don’t tell me what tf to do” type energy. intense, babe. their eyes are crazy too (it’s like they store all their inner intensity and deep emotions in their eyes ..lotta depth). also the no-bullshit type. if they’re mad at you ……be afraid 💀 they will plot revenge and start conspiring some shit

7.) taurus risings are pretty in a “oh, they’re cute” way. they have short little noses and pretty eyes

8.) pisces risings… are y’all good at telling stories? 😭 i think you guys get a little sidetracked

9.) chart ruler in the 9th makes someone adventurous… they just wanna explore and do everything. try everything there is at least once. could have a great sense of humor too

10.) scorpio moons are really protective of their family. they guard their families just like they guard their emotions

11.) unpopular opinion but scorpios aren’t mysterious to me 😐 i’m not sure id call any zodiac sign mysterious tbh it really depends on the whole chart. scorpios to me are just super honest people who have pragmatic opinions that they aren’t afraid to state out loud. if a scorpio has an opinion they feel strongly about they won’t be afraid to let others know how they feel, which i admire about them to an extent. they like getting to the nitty gritty of situations. some of them can actually be very kind people. funny as well due to their honesty and boldness. oh, and they just love dark reds. search up “maroon” and that is literally their staple color you cannot tell me otherwise

12.) i’ve met leos who i’ve found boring before which goes against their stereotype 💀 sometimes their personalities are just the bare minimum honestly unless the rest of the chart says otherwise

13.) mars in the 11th have big dreams for themselves. they wanna make a difference.

14.) 8th house sun makes someone intriguing and mysterious. it can also be a placement that grants beauty.

15.) moon in the 4th just wanna belong.

[oksana-moods]

All Too Well

Summary: Natasha tried to mend what's left broken. Because no matter what, she's the love of your life and she knows all too well.

A/N: It's been forever. This 5k piece felt like I was writing 300k, it was difficult, funny, hard and I miss doing this more often. I hope you guys like it and please, it be amazing for me to know your thoughts about it.

You can read it as One Too Many part 2 or as a single piece, it is up to you.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, torture, mentions of death, alcohol, angst (you know how I am, I can't simply write people kissing without suffering before).

"Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place"

The gun pointing at your face barely meters away should be intimidating, but at this point no one would blame you for not caring anymore. And you didn’t even mean the last couple of days, no, your whole life had been a fight, a struggle, an act of survival after another, so the last few days were nothing but the same blur.

The gunpower inundated your nostrils and the pungent smell masqueraded the smell of blood that clung to your brain and you were sure you wouldn’t erase it even if you got out of your current establishment.

Your heightened senses were capable of decerning all the different blood samples available in your cell: yours and from other occupants that came before you, or the blood that belonged to some of your kidnappers, who’ve learned in the worst possible way that you were not to be underestimated.

Back to the gun, the man behind it kept enchanting the same questions and you wondered how long it would take for them to get tired of your silence or mock replies. A sharp pain in the back of your head made you look up to meet his eyes, another man behind you was forcefully pulling your hair down to force your head up and you were already tired of him doing this.

“Where are the others?” The man with the gun asked, patience waning thin. Good to know you were on the same page. “Where is Romanoff?”

A blooded grin made its way to your face after you spat on his shoe. “It’s funny you think I’ll tell you now after all you’ve put me through. Do you think I’m afraid of your bullet?” And you didn’t even mean the fact that you probably wouldn’t die if he decided to shoot anywhere else other than your head, but you did mean that you were not afraid of dying.

Actually, you were so tired that perhaps laying down cold wouldn’t be unwelcomed. There wouldn’t be any pain, your body wouldn’t try to heal only to get hurt again. You thought it would be refreshing.

Two steps and the man pressed the gun over your knee, and you already knew, his wicked grin grew wider when your body convulsed with pain even though you concealed your scream in muffled grunts by biting your lips so tide you tasted your own blood, again.

“Why don’t you make it easier for you? You tell me what I’ve asked, and I kill you fast.” He pulled a chair and got comfortable for he knew all too well you wouldn’t budge easy. “I promise you. One silver bullet in your temple. Fast. Easy.”

Your eyes flashed to his. Silver bullets were really affective against your healing skills and very few possessed this knowledge. Someone must’ve tipped him off and the idea stung way much more than the powder burning the flesh inside your knee.

Only two women knew your weakness. Well, your creators knew, of course, but they were not in condition of speaking anymore. Unless someone from this organization was capable of going to hell to have a chat and then return to the living world with this intel.

Your love for Yelena was something so natural and it grew so fast for she was just deranged as you were: uncapable of functioning as what people labeled as normal. You were kindred souls and you felt like you were twins separated somewhere along the road and considering both of your past, who actually knew?

After long nights during long missions, you confided in her this. You were scared of losing control because sometimes the beast inside you took over and your brain couldn’t always sway the instincts. So you handed her one silver bullet in case things went south, she was adamant in returning it to you but you asked her to keep it, for insurance.

And the other person was Natasha. You never knew how she learned this but when she recruited you many, many years ago she already knew. If the pain in your leg wasn’t so overwhelming, you could’ve laughed at the memory engulfing your mind’s eye.

Her tide catsuit adorned with nothing but her black widow symbol, swaying her hips and pretending she wasn’t scared of the woman seated in front of her. You remember how her fear smelled, a stark contrast to her pose. You recall her words, her smile, her flirtatious play all to convince you to use your skills to her so called greater good.

And before leaving, she boldly closed the distance between you and placed a silver bullet in your hand. You understood the message. You weren’t stupid. Later she sworn that she was the only one, at S.H.I.E.L.D. or within Avengers, to know your weakness and you believed her.

And this belief comes back to bite you in the ass.

Because you knew full well that Yelena would die, she would kill herself even, before telling someone your secret. But Natasha? You didn’t trust her anymore. She had done it before, and you knew it all too well. If you were to be honest, after one too many treasons, you didn’t care about another.

Or so you told yourself.

“Good luck.” You rasped out after a long time inside your own head.

The man tilted his head to the side and smiled that smile that told you he already knew what you would say. You would go further and say he was eager for it. “I think in the torture manual says I should tell you that I don’t enjoy this, but I’d be lying. We actually bet how long it will take for you to drop the act and start screaming.”

You bet no one thought it would be that fast. He stumped a knife down your thigh so fast and so hard you saw stars. You could feel the silver poisoning the skin and muscle where it was nested, and it burned like nothing else would.

Unfortunately for them, the apex in you was not used to be a prey and this injury was powerful enough to make your survival instincts kick in. It happened so fast it was a haze, one minute he was laughing, the other he was on the ground - lifeless, and just as the others came, they followed their leader – well, who you thought the leader was, at least.

Funnily, your countdown was wrong, or you were not the only one putting your captors down. As the blood ran free down your leg, your strength and capability of keeping fighting diminished. When a body collided with yours, it was a miracle you were still awake.

Her red hair framed her face perfectly, skin white as snow and her green orbs looked like there was an aurora borealis looking down at you as she nested you in her lap as you felt life slipping through your fingers - veins.

“Hey, hey. Stay with me.” Her voice was strange, as if speaking was a struggle and she reeked fear, but not the same you were used to, as if she was feeling a different type of fear, it was a strange concept, but you hated it, nonetheless. If these were your last moments breathing, you wanted her true smell. The one you knew all too well.

“Please, don’t you dare die. I’ve got you.” Her muffled words found your ear, but it was hard to even comprehend anything at all when her lips felt so cold in your forehead. “Heal. Why are you not healing?”

“Silver.” It was all you could say. It was all you had to say.

She frantically started yelling at someone, perhaps the comms, but before you could close your eyes for good, you saw a red blur and he was complaining about your weight.

Her giggle filled the room as the first sun lights announced the day had just begun, you looked at her alarmed, for it was definitely something new. “Are you mocking me?” Enable to conceal a smile yourself.

“I’m not.” She denied, but her laugh told you differently. Her freckles painted her angelical face and her eyes looked like they held the sun captive. And you. And she knew, all too well. “It’s just I can’t believe you still have this scar.”

Her index finger traced said scar as she looked at you expectantly, waiting for your explanation, even though she already knew.

“I didn’t know Wanda’s necklace was made of silver, okay.” You finally replied, pulling her close to you as if her weight meant nothing, right in that moment this action felt so normal, so homely that it ached. “I thought I could take it from that heated place for her, but it burned me as I did. It was silly.”

She giggled again, though muffled by your shoulder this time, there was something new in her eyes that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “It was cute. Silly, but cute. That necklace belonged to her mother.”

“I know.” You were locked in her eyes, and she stared at you as if she was trying to reach your soul, then you felt her fingertip leaving the palm of your hand to intertwine your fingers as she let her eyes stray to look at both of your hands.

The feeling was overwhelming. You were aware of how fast your heart was beating, you could only hope she couldn’t feel or hear it, for in that moment, all you wanted was to engrave the sight of you, together, and you wish you could just have this forever. Have her forever.

“I’ve never felt this before.” Her brows were furrowed in a way that made you upset, but you wouldn’t let go of her hand for nothing in this world, even if it was to soothe the crinkles in her forehead. “I’m in love with you.”

For a moment, there was nothing that you could do but wait for your brain to register her words and meaning, for a whole minute you simply stared at her, trying to search for a catch or a joke but you found none. And she looked up at you so innocently that you found yourself believing in her.

“I thought-.” You tried, but she never let you finish your sentence.

“I know what I said.” She stopped you midsentence, but her voice was not stern, it was almost tired. “This is not what I feel anymore.” Again, her eyes found yours and the way they shone made your knees weak, luckily you were laying on her mattress.

Somehow, they conveyed so much of this feeling she had claimed she was not capable of nurturing that your stomach did somersaults. And right in that moment, you realized that perhaps silver could hurt you, but this woman was your true weakness.

Specially if she’s looking at you the way she was.

“You already know how I feel about you.” You whispered, it was terrifying saying again the three words that you were sure would make her fly away from this strange arrangement you found yourself in. Yet she didn’t.

“I know.” She confirmed after a while admiring your eyes as if she could read your mind. After deciding she was content with whatever she found, she leaned in and pecked your lips so tenderly it hurt.

Then, when she looked at you again you saw, from the small smirk growing in her lips, that she had gone back to play her prime character: the Black Widow.

“Let’s have a breakfast before the funeral, shall we?” As she got of the bad, you copied her movements going back to your own suitcase to find something comfortable as her voice broke the silence filling the room. “I never asked how you and Sharon became friends to the point you’d come to a funeral of her relative.”

The cleanliness of the room was the first thing you were aware of. In fact, you didn’t even realize you were awake, therefore alive, before the smell hit your nostrils. And with it, her scent.

The occasional up and down from her feet and bouncing leg was the only sound in the room except for the noise coming from the heart monitor over your head. She was anxious, that much was obvious even if you weren’t an enhanced being.

Mentally searching for your injuries and pain, you understood that whatever had happened with you, was all gone. Excluding the lingering pain in some specific places that you credited to silver induced wounds that would take way much more time to wear off.

However, considering the state you were in, whoever tended these wounds had operated a true miracle.

As you opened your eyes, you half expected bright lights, common to these hospital rooms to hurt your eyes, but you soon identified that the only source of light was a yellow bulb close to the door.

Natasha.

“Thanks for working the lights down.” You rasped out and stifled a giggle as she jumped from her chair by the wall and bolted to your bed side. The book previously nested between her hands now long forgotten on the floor.

The iron grip which she clutched your hand didn’t go amiss to you. “A week.” The sadness in her eyes was palpable. “A whole week blacked out.” She explained further but you didn’t need to know the details of how long you were sleeping or how many times your heart stopped at surgery.

“You scared the shit out of me.” Then it hit you, the same type of fear your nose caught when she found you in that facility, it was fear but not the one someone feels when they’re actively facing danger, but it was fear for someone else. Fear of losing someone.

Something stirred inside your heart, but it was something that you couldn’t dwell much longer, not, at least, in that moment.

“They had me, after you sent me as scout.” Your tone was flat, and her eyes widened a little at the bluntness of your accusation, though you were far from settling for little. “They knew about the silver.”

Her hold faltered, but your hand was still snuggled between hers. “What are you accusing me of?” She narrowed her eyes, but her green orbs were bright even in the poor light.

“Cynicism doesn’t suit you the way you think it does.” Before you could even pull back your hand, she completely let it go and got to her feet. “Look at my eyes and tell me that you actually didn’t let them get me, just to find their hideout.”

She had her back turned to you, acutely avoiding your gaze. “Look at me!” You demanded and she had the gall to look at you through her lashes, as if her seductive skills could help her now. You wouldn’t fall for that, and she knew it all too well.

“It wasn’t my intention for you to be captured and I never thought someone else would know about your weakness. I thought I was the only one alive to know.” She finally turned to you, eyes now darting around the floor as if it could grant her the answers she sought.

“Lena knows too.” You corrected her, but if she was surprised by your update, she never showed.

Shaking her head right to left as if to deny such possibility, she exclaimed. “She’d never do this to you.” It was funny that at least in this matter you agreed. “I think she loves you more than she loves me.” A sly smile escaped her lips and you had to restrain your heart from fluttering at the sight of it.

“I was waiting for your check-in. I went to your assigned coordinates, and I know I underestimated their numbers, but I would never let someone capture you.” Her feet dragged her back close to your bed but maintained some distance between you.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” You shot back without missing a single beat, crossing your arms around your chest.

She sighed tiredly and looked down at the floor. You wouldn’t let her forget that she was the main cause for you to be locked in the Raft, well, her and your support for Steve when Ross tried to shove the Sokovian Accords down your throat, and solely because you shared his point of view.

After being controlled for most of your life by a group with shady intentions, you swore you’d never submit your loyalty and services to a third party again, even if it was a government group – specially a government group, actually, so only over your dead body you’d accept the Accords.

But when you came back to see if Natasha was fine, she had gone without thinking that you were left behind and in the care of Ross to be taken to the Raft with the others, without sparing a single thought to you.

“I’d never ever willingly put you in danger.” She said taking another step closer to you. “I have never mentioned to anyone about your secret, and I purposefully kept it out of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files.”

Her eyes kept darting from her hands to your eyes, never focusing, never staying too long. “Look, I know Yelena would never speak about it, but I wouldn’t either. And I didn’t, you must believe me!”

“I must?” Your eyebrows shot up so high so fast it hurt. “Well, you made it pretty damn hard for me to believe, don’t you think, Nat?” Your tone was hard, but you were not even speaking too loud.

Somehow, Natasha thought this hurt way much more.

“C’mon all I feel for you-” She tried to counter, but you wanted to swallow the lump stuck in your throat trying to choke you, so you cut her midsentence.

“Words, Natasha.” She found herself locked within your burning eyes. “I kept you as an oath, yet you hid me like another dirty secret. And all you’ve felt you kept hidden – buried – just as who you really are.”

After years thinking about how she lured and how she hurt you, you thought that maybe spatting what your relationship really was – a hidden lust, would make you feel better, would free yourself from her hold, but it didn’t.

After all, calling her unfair wouldn’t change how lonely she made you feel, how she took your happiness away whenever she drew herself back to her main character as she left you daydreaming about imaginary scenarios built in “what ifs”.

As your words found her ears, they settled heavily in her stomach. She knew she had massed up, she had hurt you many times, yet all she wanted was go back in time and erase all her wrongs and all the times she promised and never delivered.

She didn’t possess a time stone, though. There was nothing she could do about the past, however, she knew she couldn’t run from her mistakes anymore. If she wanted to start anew, she’d have to show she was different.

She wanted to, no, she needed you to understand that she was a whole new person because you’ve changed her. She didn’t want to hide anymore and for that she’d have to let go of her walls and be vulnerable. Truly vulnerable.

Funnily, she had played with her vulnerability before, being vulnerable just enough for people to lower their shields or masks so she could get what she wanted but this was something else entirely.

This time she wouldn’t act. She’d be vulnerable, at your mercy hoping she’d make it out alive on the other side. It was something new and it scared her, but losing you was scarier.

“I didn’t know you came back to check on Barton…” She tried weakly, knowing that this was a sore subject for the both of you. Each with your own views and reasons.

“I helped Clint, yes, but we went back looking for you. Yet, Ross was all we’ve found.” Your glare was cold, perhaps colder than ever. In the pit of her stomach, she knew she deserved it, she just wish you could move on with it.

“I was wrong, okay. Is that what you want to hear?” She snapped, though her voice was still in a low tone, eyes sad. And you hated it. “I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry for not going after you that day at the airport or at the Raft.”

Her eyes fell once more to your hands, she slowly nursed them in hers and this action was so soft, so hesitantly as if she was afraid of you taking it away; afraid of you shutting her down once more.

“I wish I could do things differently, but I can’t, and for that I’m sorry. But I- I wish we could try move on from this. I still have feelings for you.” As words flowed through her tongue, you watched as eyes portrayed a sincerity that you rarely saw within those forest green orbs.

Usually, they hid her true feelings or performed like an actress twisting her truths mixed with pieces of lies and characters she created through life until she herself was unaware of what was true or not.

“I hear you, Natasha.” You rasped out after a long moment lost inside her beautiful eyes. “You speak of things as you did before, yet you never act on it.”

Her hands were warm, a muted invitation to go back to your dreams of having a life with her. The only person who never showed any sign of fear about your nature, that never once treated you like an animal.

She never treated you like a woman either.

“I want you to show me.” Your stone-cold eyes punctuated your feelings in the matter at hand. If she wanted to have you back, she’d have to show you she’s changed for words could only take her so far.

“I will.” She vowed and smiled softly, though her heart was shattering inside her chest. She made a career making people believe in whatever she wanted, she supposed she’d be able to make you believe in her heart.

How hard would that be?

Laugh filled the room after another not-so-funny Tony’s jokes and your head throbbed as the sound echoed inside your skull. Parties like these were always a torture for you, after all, your enhanced abilities of hearing and catching smells better than a normal person proved to be really awful in a place full of people with different perfumes, scents, chattering and loud music.

However, Tony himself forbid you from leaving tonight for this was his engagement party and it would be rude to Pepper if you left too early. Deciding that indulging him was easier than arguing with him, you found a safe corner and pretended to enjoy whatever was going on.

Though, your sharp eyes, even though you tried hard, always wandered after a certain redhead and you could all but clench your jaw every time you judged someone got too closer for your comfort.

Jealousy clawed its way through your throat and even the best bourbon from the bar couldn’t help it. You knew you had no right, no claim, especially after your last conversation. Still, your heart acted on its own and made sure you’d regret your words and resolve.

Considering that you were one drink from scooping lower than ever for her, you abandoned your glass on a random table and vanished to the balcony in hopes the fresh air could help your head and brain.

The cars down the streets ran from side to side completely unaware of your inner turmoil as you pathetically looked down searching for answers you wouldn’t find there.

In fact, as your answers arrived at the balcony, you realized that her hills clicking the marble floor announced her before her perfume invaded your nostrils in waves as she moved closer and closer towards you.

“Tired of mingling?” She asked as she lined her body at the railing. Her red hair bobbed around her ears in meticulously designed waves and her dark maroon dress hugged her curves in all the nice places.

She was flawless.

As always.

“I think I might’ve break Sam with incredible five words.” You gave her a sly smile that she retributed with a smirk and a fake gasp.

“This is basically a whole speech.” She clicked her tongue playfully. “I think you’ve been around Tony just too much.”

You snorted a laugh and she let a broad smile paint her lips, content with herself for making you ease the pained expression adorning your face the whole evening.

Uncertenty hugged you like a cold blanket as you pondered your next words. As if rolling the dices in a game you were sure you’d end up losing, you turned to her and spoke. “You’re really beautiful tonight, Nat.”

Your heart fluttered as she fought back a smile trying to win her lips and looked down as if she wasn’t expecting your praise. She genuinely looked flustered by your words.

“Thank you. You’re quite handsome yourself. Well, I already praised your choice of suit, earlier.” She turned her body so now she was fully looking at you and you tried to remember how to properly breath. However, it was as if the air was composed of her scent.

You were intoxicated.

“What do you mean?” You asked confused. “This is the first time we speak tonight.” You clarify. Truth be told you’ve been keeping a fair distance from her and funnily enough she didn’t make the effort to push you and your comfort space.

She did make it obvious that she was trying, though. She invited you out in front of people, she brought you coffee whenever you were reading in the garden in the morning or brought you a blanket when you were on the couch watching movies with Wanda.

Whenever you were called to a meeting, she worked the lights so it wouldn’t hurt your eyes that much. And, one day, she brought you the files they recovered from Hydra from the mission you were taken, and you both learned that one of your creators left behind a journal and there were a lot of dirty secrets down there. Including yours.

To be honest, she was really trying to show her true intentions, but you were still afraid that this was just for show, just a ploy for you to lower your guard and be disappointed after she return to her normal pattern of misleading.

However, the way she stood basking in the moon light looking at you like she was slowly sipped through the cracks of your determination of not giving in that easy.

Her soft smile was a sight to see, and you even forgot that you were waiting for her to reply. “Directly, yes. I sent a drink to you earlier.”

Then it clicked in your head. Your laugh was loud and very uncharacteristic of you, though Natasha simply stood there admiring your carefree stance, a rare occurrence.

Your mind traveled to a moment earlier that night when the waiter approached you with a drink in hand, stating that the lady had sent it to you complimenting your fine tailored suit. At the time, the way he vaguely waved in the direction of Agatha and other ladies, you thought that one of them had been the person.

Though if you thought harder about it, Natasha was at the bar in that moment, right behind said ladies.

“Now it made sense.” You grinned back at her and nodded your head softly. “Thank you for the compliment and the drink.”

“Of course.” She flashed on last smile and turned her body to admire the city bellow and you did the same. Though you found it hard to ignore her presence by your side. You could feel the heat emanating from her skin, her sweet scent still impregnating the air around you and you could hear her fast heartbeat. It was uncommon.

In a haste, you both turned towards each other and started to speak at the same time. A nervous laugh scaped your lips as you signaled for her to go on first. And she did.

She closed her eyes as one does when bracing for the impact, as if second-guessing her next step, but when she opened her eyes again, there was no doubt and no deceit. “I love you and it’s ruining my life not having you, knowing that I am the one who pushed you away.”

You were speechless by her blunt confession, specially because she never, ever, used the word love in such a direct sentence. She expressed her feelings before, yes, but always with an adore, in love with you once or twice, never this straight.

She took your silence as hesitancy and reached for your hand, she yearned for your touch and the closeness of the last weeks made her heart clench with longing. “I am asking for a chance to show you who I really am, and I, please, I know I’ve made mistakes, but I wish to make it up to you.”

Her eyes were pools of emotion and you had trouble in breathing with her so close now. “Please, let me love you the way you deserve, the way I should’ve since the very first time I kissed your lips.” Her free hand caressed your cheek in such a tender way that you felt your knees weak.

She was definitely your true weakness.

You brain was haywire, short-circuiting with the lack of air and the sudden increase in your heartbeats. There she was. The woman you felt like you could love forever, offering you what you always wanted: her heart. For real this time. Not the hide and seek games you’ve been playing in the past.

She promised and have been showing changes, however, if you were to be honest, all she’d have to do was to come at you and say hi. If you were to be honest, she would always have your heart at her mercy.

Unable to form words and knowing that your silence was unnerving for her, as you saw her brows furrowing, you decided to answer her differently as you brought your hand to her own cheek and guided her lips to meet yours.

Her lips were soft as they used to be, and you could feel her body melting into the kiss. Her eyes fluttered open when you broke the kiss and smiled softly at her. “I love you too, Nat.”

Smiling back at you, Natasha circled her arms behind your neck to pull you down for another kiss, and another. And another.

And you knew, all too well, that she wouldn’t stop soon.

taglist: @username23345; @afuckingshituniverse; @strangegardentaco; @waltermis (I know you didn't specifically asked to be tagged, but I am doing it, nonetheless, because if your rb - and because you sparked a fire in this. Thank you.)

[straylightdream]

hopelessly devote

featuring: werewolf han jisung x f. reader

synopsis: his life changed unexpectedly and he’s attempting to cope with the inner turmoil he faces as he accepts the beast living inside him.

genre: wolf au, college au, smut, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers, roommates to lovers

warnings: angst, talks about being a werewolf, and explicit sexual content (smut warnings below the cut)

word count: 5.7k

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

an: I’m reworking and old story and starting a connecting series with skz as werewolves. Thank you @therhythmafterthesummer for helping me edit and figure out this story.

warnings: protected sex, fingering, soft dom jisung, mentions of marking and bruising, knotting

It’s a quiet night, but it’s one of those nights where you haven’t been able to fall asleep. You have too much on your mind to actually fall asleep. The sound of your roommate knocking on your bedroom door catches you attention, before it slowly opens.

“Can I come in?”

Rolling over so you’re looking at the door, “yeah.” Jisung stares at you with sad eyes. Patting the bed next to you he joins you

He seems tense as he lies next to you. There’s a worried look that’s painted across his face. Laying on your side you stare at him.

“Jisung what’s wrong?”

A heavy sigh passes his lips as he turns on his side to stare at you. “The full moon is in two days.”

You can’t help but feel sorry for him. This is only going to be his second full moon and from what he’s told you the first one was very painful. He was a complete mess the following day.

“Has Chan or Changbin mentioned if it will get easier?”

“Chan said as soon as I start changing freely without the full moon it will start to barely hurt,” he doesn’t sound confident at all as he speaks to you.

“Why don’t you try changing without the moon?” You reach out, taking his hand in yours.

“YN, I’m afraid of losing control each time I change,” another heavy sigh passes his lips as he gently squeezes your hand. You’ve been by his side from the moment he got bit. You took him out to the forest the first full moon he changed. You stood by his side as he screamed in pain changing for the first time. You stayed there until he begged you to drive away. His number one fear has always been hurting you.

“There’s so many things I’m not ready for. First I have to learn how to change on command. So that each time I change it doesn’t feel like I’m dying and then I need to figure out how I even get through my first rut.”

Your cheeks burn at the thought of Jisung having to go through a rut. When he first changed Chan and Changbin came over to let him know the ups and downs of his new life. Jisung was so overwhelmed by all the information he started rambling on about it and mentioned how bad his rut will be at first.

“Do you have an idea on what you’re gonna do about your rut?” You aren’t sure why you ask. Maybe it’s because Jisung is your best friend and roommate and you’re just worried about him, or maybe it’s because you have a crush on him and part of you can’t seem to push it away.

“I’m not sure. I might have Chan and Changbin lock me up. They said the first time will be by far the worst and that afterwards I’m just gonna be,” he pauses and looks at you with his cheeks flushed. “I’m just going to be pretty horny.” He swallows loudly and stares at you awkwardly, “Chan said I’m just gonna be on edge a lot.”

“Does anything help?” you’re playing with fire by asking this but you can’t seem to stop.

“Chan said I just should act on my urges. That relieving it makes everything better.” The tips of his ears are bright red.

“I guess having a girlfriend would help,” you let out an awkward laugh.

“Yeah probably,” he drags his thumb across your skin catching your attention.

“Did you want to sleep in here tonight” it’s not the first time you would share a bed with him. Jisung has always been a person who loves skinship and often loves cuddling with you.

“Yeah I don’t exactly want to be alone. If I go to my room I’m just going to lay there and overthink everything.”

He moves so he’s laying on his back staring at the ceiling. A heavy sigh passes his lips as he looks so torn up. Without thinking you move closer to him resting your head on his chest and putting your arm across his stomach holding yourself closer to him.

“You're not alone Jisung. You never have been,” you listen to his heart and snuggle up closer to him.

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” his hand gently runs up your side. “My greatest fear is doing something that would hurt you.” His voice is shaky as he speaks to you. “I need to learn to control this so I don’t have to worry about something snapping inside me.”

You look up at him to see his eyes are glassy, “Jisung I’ve never been afraid of you. Even that night in the forest, I wasn’t afraid of you. I was just worried about you being hurt.”

You hold him tighter wanting to let him know that he's safe with you. You love him so much, and it hurts to watch him suffer through everything he’s going through.

“What happens if I hurt you?”

“It’s not going to happen, so stop worrying about it,” you know that even when he gets frustrated with you there’s never been an ounce of malice towards you. Everything with the beast inside him heightens all his emotions at one point or another but he wouldn’t ever hurt you.

“If it makes you feel better this full moon I’ll stay far away,” you know he regretted letting you go to the forest with him the first time he changed.

“Yeah that’s probably for the best,” he sighs.

“Will you be alone?” Your stomach twists just thinking about the thought of him being alone out there suffering.

“No Chan will be there, and he said Minho will come along too.”

“Okay as long as you’re not alone.”

You lay there in his arms until you both fall asleep. Your dreams consist of your best friend who is holding you close. You dream of a lazy summer afternoon where you’re both laying on your bedroom floor as teenagers laughing. Things were easier back then. You crave the normalcy of your teenage years, but you wouldn’t give up how things are now. Even though Jisung is a wolf and you wish more than anything you could take his curse away from him, you would stand by his side until the end of the world.

The morning light shines through your curtains waking you slowly. You nuzzle closer into the chest of your best friend. A soft yawn passes your lips as you close your eyes.

“Good morning,” he says softly.

“Good morning,” you slowly pull away, stretching your body.

-

The day of the full moon Jisung is on edge. He paces around your apartment for most of the morning. In the afternoon he starts telling you about his plan for attempting to work on learning to change at will.

You want nothing more than to just hold him and tell him he’ll be okay, but you know you can’t do that.

Around sunset he grabs his backpack and starts to head out. He gives you one final goodbye and holds you tight for a long moment before pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“I’ll be back after sunrise. Please stay here, and please be safe,” he says softly.

“I’ll be okay Jisung, I need you to stay safe and not worry about me.”

As he walks out the door you lock it and press your back to the door. You take a deep breath trying to hold yourself together but you can’t help the sob that breaks as you start to worry about your best friend. You know the pain he’s going to suffer through tonight is going to be excruciating. You cry for too long before you force yourself to pull it together.

You try your hardest to keep yourself distracted as the sun fully sets and the full moon rises. Looking out the window that looks onto the city, there’s an aching in your chest as you worry about Jisung.

As night comes you lay in bed barely able to sleep. You get maybe two hours of sleep as you wait for Jisung to return home. The alarm clock on your nightstand reads six in the morning. You listen carefully hearing the front door open. Leaping out of bed, you run to the living area to find an exhausted Jisung walking in. He’s dressed in a pair of sweats and a shirt. His hair looks a mess and his eyes are red like he’s been crying. Without a second thought you throw your body into his and hold him tight.

“Are you okay?” you ask, holding on.

“Yeah I’m gonna be okay,” he says as tears slowly slide down his cheeks. “It was just as hard as last time.”

Pulling away from him you reach up and wipe his tears away. He looks completely defeated as he stands there in front of you. Your heart breaks at how sad he looks. “How do I keep doing this?”

“Chan says it gets easier,” you try to remain positive as you try to hold yourself together.

“When is it gonna get easier?” He drops his head as the tears continue to slide down his cheek.

“Unfortunately I don’t know, but trust what Chan and Changbin say,” you brush away his tears gently. “Maybe before the next moon you should try to change on your own?”

“Okay,” he sighs. “Can we please nap together? I just need to be held.”

“Of course.”

Laying in his bed he lays on his side with you pressed right behind him holding him tight.

-

Over the next three weeks Jisung is gone often. Whenever he’s not in school he’s with Chan, Changbin and Minho attempting to learn to change at will. They’re doing everything in their power to help Jisung cope with how his life is now.

The first few days he comes home he’s just as emotionally drained as he was the last full moon. About a week in he just seems dazed and tired. You haven’t had to hold him as he falls asleep.

He’s got a few days until his next full moon and he’s a ball of nervous energy.

Sitting on the couch next to you a heavy sigh passes his lips. You look over at him raising your eyebrow curious to what’s on his mind.

“Jisung?”

“My first rut is near,” he spats out, out of nowhere.

Your eyes go wide knowing that his first rut is going to be intense.

“Minho says that from when I got turned the timeline lines up that it’s going to happen shortly after this full moon.”

“Okay you can get through this. What’s the plan?” You assume Jisung and the small pack of boys have already made up a plan.

“I need to stay far away from you, so I won’t hurt you,” his voice is laced with worry as you stare at him.

“I’m not afraid of you hurting me,” you can’t understand why he’s so worried about hurting you.

“The boys said I’m going to have this hunger inside me that will make it where my brain will only want one thing. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

You know exactly what the one thing he’s going to need is. There’s this little part in your brain that wonders what it would be like to let him have his way with you. What it would be like to feed the beast.

“Okay. I’ll do whatever you want. Where are you going? I’m assuming you won’t be anywhere near me.”

“They said that even the scent of you could push me over the edge. I’m going to stay at Chan’s. He said most of the pack will be there to watch over me. Hyunjin just finished his first rut and he said it was intense.”

“What did Hyunjin do to get through it?” You probably shouldn’t ask but you want to know.

“Hyunjin has a girlfriend,” Jisung says with his eyes trained on you. “Hyunjin said it got to be too much and she had to help.”

“Are you going to have someone help you?” The thought of a random girl being with him intimately makes you feel sick to your stomach but you won’t ever admit that to him.

“No I can’t risk hurting anyone, and we both know I can’t just hook up with a random person.”

-

It’s the day of another full moon and Jisung is just as nervous as ever. The boys have taught him to change on command but he’s still scared. Every time he’s been out with the boys he’s come back slightly dazed and exhausted. He says it doesn’t hurt like it used to, that his body has adjusted to it. He says it still hurts but it doesn’t feel like every single bone in his body is breaking.

Sitting on his bed you watch as he packs his backpack for his night. A heavy sigh passes his lips as he stops and turns to face you. He pushes his fingers through his hair and drops his head.

“What’s wrong Jisung?”

“I feel like I had so many plans with my life. Between school, a career and wanting a relationship and this curse ruined everything.” He sounds completely frustrated by the cards he has been dealt.

“You can still finish school, and find the job you want. This isn’t something that is gonna stop someone from loving you,” reach for his hand and pull him down so he’s sitting on the bed next to you.

“How can someone love me when I’m a monster who could hurt them?” He can’t look at you as he speaks.

You wish you were more brave enough to tell him you were in love with him, helping him go through this has done nothing but make you love him even more.

“Does Hyunjin’s girlfriend love him?”

“Yeah they’ve been together a year or so.”

“Do any of the other boys have partners?” You reach over taking his hand in yours.

“Minho has a girl he refers to as his mate.” You can’t help but be stuck on the thought of them having mates. What does being a mate exactly entail?

“What does being a mate mean?”

“They haven’t told me all the details about it, but Minho mentioned that you feel an intense connection with someone. You also mark them,” his cheeks burn bright red, mentioning marking.

“What’s marking?” You can’t help but be curious.

“Um,” he’s clearly embarrassed now. “You bite the spot between their shoulder and their neck and it marks their partner as theirs. It tells other wolves to stay away.”

“Oh,” you can’t help the burning feeling that takes over your cheeks.

He stands up and looks out the window to see the sun is starting to go down. “I need to meet the boys in the forest.” He leans down and gently presses a kiss to your forehead gently. “Stay safe please. I’ll be back after sunrise.” Your conversation you just shared has left you with the feeling of your head swimming.

You follow him through your shared apartment and stop at the front door.

He stops at the door and gives you a sad smile, “Jisung, before you go I just want you to know that you can have a future with someone. That this curse doesn’t make you unloveable. Believe me someone will love and care for you.”

“I hope so because I want to love someone in return. I want to have a mate who isn’t afraid of the monster that’s in their bed.”

Stepping closer to him you rest your hand on cheek staring into his warm eyes, “you’ve never been a monster. There is absolutely nothing to be afraid of.”

-

Laying in bed at sunrise, you wait for Jisung to return home. The front door opens and you walk into the living room to find him standing there looking dazed. A heavy sigh passes his lips as he pushes his fingers through his messy hair.

He stands there staring at you with his warm eyes. He gives you a half smile and drops his backpack on the floor.

“How was it?” you ask, stepping towards him.

“It hurt, but not like it used to. I’m just really tired,” he says.

“Let’s go to bed,” you reach down, taking his hand in yours.

“I don’t deserve you,” he practically whispers.

“I’m always going to be here for you,” you pull him into your bed. Holding him close to you.

-

The last two days Jisung has been locked in his room. He’s even more easily frustrated than he normally is. Standing in the kitchen you listen carefully as Jisung’s bedroom door is open. He walks into the kitchen carrying a backpack.

“YN,” he sighs.

“Is it time?”

He nods as a sigh passes his lips, “I’m on edge and my brain is fogged. I need to leave. My brain wants to do things that it shouldn’t.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be safe please don’t worry about me,” turns on his heels to walk out the door.

“Do I not get a hug goodbye?” He’s never left without saying goodbye.

“In all honesty your scent is sending me into overdrive. I think it’s best if we don’t.”

You can’t help the feeling of rejection that takes over you. He walks out the door and you can’t help but feel worried about him. You know how much he’s been dreading this.

The whole day you attempt to distract yourself by doing homework, but you can’t help but be worried about your best friend. At night you lay awake hoping to receive at least a text from Jisung letting you know he’s okay.

It’s ten in the morning when your phone starts ringing. Unfamiliar number is on your screen and you waste no time answering the phone quickly.

“Hello?”

“YN?” You immediately recognize the voice on the other side as Chan.

“Chan, is Jisung okay?” You’re suddenly worried your best friend is hurt or something is wrong.

“Jisung is in pain,” he sighs. “His first rut isn’t easy. We told him he needs to act on his needs somehow but he won’t listen. He just keeps moaning your name,” he pauses, giving you a moment to process everything he’s saying. “I don’t know much about your friendship or relationship with Jisung. But I haven’t ever heard him mention another girl other than you.”

“Is there anything I can do?” You don’t know what you can do to help but you don’t want him in pain.

“He’s gonna kill me for even calling you, but he needs someone to help him relieve himself.”

You swallow attempting to process what he just said. “Are you asking me to have sex with him?”

“YN I’m really sorry, but yes.”

“Okay, text me your address.”

Hanging up the photo you took a moment to gather yourself. This was absolutely insane and you probably shouldn’t be so willing to do this. Looking in the mirror you push your fingers through your hair and take a deep breath. Roaming around your room you start packing up an overnight bag. You aren’t exactly sure what you’ll need or how long you’ll be gone but you start packing some clothes to change into and some hygiene essentials.

The drive to Chan’s place feels like it's taking a lifetime. Your head is swimming as you drive there. Pulling up to a house on the edge of the forest you find Chan sitting outside with a blonde boy you’ve seen a few times.

“Thank you for coming,” Chan says, walking towards you. “This is Hyunjin by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” Hyunjin says, giving you a little smile.

“Where’s Jisung?” you ask.

“Follow me,” Chan says.

He leads you into the busy house. Walking inside you see a few of boys you’ve seen before. He leads you up stairs to a room down the hall.

“He’s in there.”

You hear a loud moan that sounds a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Opening the door you step inside and find Jisung shirtless laying in bed in nothing but a pair of boxers. You can’t help stare at his toned body on display.

His eyes snap to you and he jumps out of bed quickly. “YN?” He stands there staring at you with lust blown eyes. “Why are you here?”

You drop your bag on the floor by the bag as you stare at him. “Chan said you were in pain,” you take your sweater off sitting it on top of the dresser next to you.

“I’m here to help,” you’re absolutely insane and you know it. You literally came across town to have sex with your best friend because he’s in the middle of his first rut.

“Do you have any idea what you’re offering?” He swallows loudly and steps back. “Medicine doesn’t fix this.”

“Jisung I know what I’m offering,” you take a step towards him.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he shakes his head.

There is a stinging feeling in your chest, a feeling of rejection. “It’s okay if you don’t like me like that or you’re not attracted to me. I just thought it might be nicer than some random girl.”

“YN it’s not because I’m not attracted to you or I don’t like you. I’m just worried I’m gonna hurt you. I want to knot you so bad,” he practically growls. You blush at the mention of him knotting you. This isn’t the first time you’ve heard of knotting. Early on after he was changed he mentioned it when he was rambling on one day nervously, and when you asked questions be awkwardly explained his new anatomy.

There’s a warmth that washes over your body at the thought of Jisung being rough with you and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like for him to stretch you open with his knot.

His breathing is heavy as he steps towards you with dark eyes. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing the world.

“You need to leave now,” he growls.

“Jisung, I don’t want to. I want to help.”

He inhales deeply, stopping right in front of you, “oh my god you smell intoxicating.”

“I can do whatever you need me to.”

He steps closer to you. There’s barely any room between you as he puts his hand on your cheek tilting your head back. He swallows loudly looking at you with a hunger in his eyes.

“I might say some stuff I don’t mean. I’m really sorry if I make you feel uncomfortable.”

“What could you possibly say that makes me uncomfortable? Jisung it’s me, I’m your best friend.”

He leans his head back taking a deep breath, “my body burns thinking about what I want to do to you. The thought of knotting you makes me feel like I’m going insane.”

You look down between you to see his hardened length straining against his boxers.

“Jisung do whatever you want,” you say softly.

His eyes snap down to yours with blown pupils. He practically growls staring at you. “Don’t say shit like that. I need you to keep me in check. Tell me I can’t be rough. Tell me I’m just your friend.”

His last sentence catches you off guard, you’re taken out of the moment as you knit your eyebrows together, “Jisung why do I have to tell you you’re just my friend?”

He swallows, stepping back shaking his head, “because if that’s not burned into my mind I could do something stupid.”

“What could you possibly do?”

“I could mark you.”

Your eyes go wide as you process what that means, “do wolves mark their friends?”

“Wolves don’t feel a need to mark someone unless they’re in love with them,” he shakes his head and moves away from you.

Reaching down grabbing his hand you stop him from walking away from you, “are you in love with me?”

“Please don’t make me answer that,” he sighs.

“Jisung tell me if you love me or not,” you demand as a sea of emotions starts to take over you. Your eyes start to brim with tears.

“I’m a monster. YN I can’t hurt you, there’s literally something inside me right now screaming at me to shove you against the wall and take you right now. It’s taking everything in me not to rip your clothes off with my teeth, shove my knot deep inside you.”

You can’t help but rub your thighs together at the mention of him ripping your clothes off with his teeth. You try to push away the inappropriate thought, “that doesn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he steps closer to you again.

“You’re hurting me right by not telling me if you love me or not.”

There’s a long moment of silence between you as Jisung stares at you. The room feels small and an aching feeling is starting in your chest. “Han Jisung, if you're too afraid to admit how you’re feeling I’ll tell you how I feel. I’m hopelessly in love with you. I loved you before you turned and I’m pretty sure I fell even more in love with being by your side during this.”

“YN I’m so afraid, I love you so much and I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t ever lose me,” you know his rut is heightening all his senses. You stand right in front of him and smile at him softly. “Let me help you through this. Not as your friend but as someone who is head over heels in love with you.”

He nods his head, putting his hands on your hips and moving you closer to him. “Please don’t let me get too rough with you. I’ll try my hardest not to hurt you with my knot.”

“Okay.”

He leans down, crashing his lips into yours for a heated kiss. Your fingers tangle in his hair holding him close to you. There’s a warmth that washes over you as your lips move together.

Stepping away from you with a wild look in his eyes he practically growls, “I need you naked.”

You can’t help but smile stepping away from him. You waste no time stripping down to just your underwear. You’re completely bare from the waist up staring at him.

“You’re stunning,” he says, reaching out and taking your breast in one hand. “I can’t even say all the things I want to do to you.”

His lips crash into yours like a wave crashing on the shoreline. His hands grip your sides holding you close to him. You can’t help but moan as his hand moves down to grip your butt pulling you close.

Tilting your head back, his lips trail down your neck gently nipping at the skin.

“Jisung,” you moan loudly.

“I never thought I would hear you moan my name,” he groans with his lips against your skin.

“Please get fully naked and lay on the bed so I don’t manhandle you,” he steps away from you.

“Okay,” he’s trying his hardest not to hurt you.

Stripping away your last layer of clothes you lay down on the full size bed under the window. He strips away his own clothes and his hardened length slaps against his stomach catching your attention.

He crawls on the bed and sits on his hunches between your legs. His hands rub and down your sensitive skin on your inner thighs.

“I’ve wanted this forever for so long. Even before I turned, but when I turned I just craved you even more,” he groans. He presses his lips on your stomach. “There’s this voice inside my head that just keeps telling me all things I want to do to you. You turn me on so much it’s hard to control myself.”

“Jisung do whatever you want to me,” you can’t help but wonder about all the dirty things he’s thought about doing to you.

“I can’t lose control, no matter how much I want to lose myself in you,” he runs his finger through your already wet folds. “I can’t hurt you.”

His index finger does lazy circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his other hand rubs your thigh. You moan softly at the overwhelming feeling. Your eyes are focused on him as he stares at you. His finger slides into you slowly.

“Jisung please enough of this. I just want you,” you moan.

He moves away from you and lays on the bed next to you. You look over at him confused on what he’s doing.

“Condoms are in the nightstand, I need you on top. I can’t risk getting too rough. Hyunjin’s girlfriend still has bruises from Hyunjin first rut.”

Crawling off the bed you grab a foil packet from the night stand and tear it open. Crawling onto the bed you slide the rubber down his hardened length. He groans as you touch him. He’s so hard it looks absolutely painful. You straddle his waist with his erection right in front of you. Biting your bottom lip you stare at Jisung who looks feral staring up at you. Taking his length in one hand you move so you’re hovering over him. He holds his breath as you slowly sink down. Once he fills you completely you sit there on him with your hands resting on his chest.

“Han Jisung I love you,” leaning down your nose rested against his. You press your lips to his for a heated kiss.

“I love you so much, and I really need you to move because I feel like I’m dying.”

Pulling away you rest your hands on his chest as you start to move your body up and down his length. His hands tightly grip your hips as you move up and down his length. The room is filled with the echoing sounds of skin hitting skin, and the low moans passing Jisung’s lips. The sight of Jisung under you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth is a sight you want to remember for the rest of your life.

“Please go faster,” he whimpers. It’s clear he’s trying his hardest to keep control of himself.

“Anything for you,” you moan.

You pick up the pace going as quickly as you can. His hand moves to grip your butt kneading your skin and earning a low moan from you.

His head rolls back and you see the sight of his fangs showing. Your hand moves towards his jaw tilting his head down to look at you. “Are you gonna mark me?” You ask if his fangs are showing because he wants to mark you. The thought of him marking is so intriguing to you, and you can’t quite explain why.

“I can’t. Not yet,” he growls.

“Did Hyunjin mark his girlfriend?”

He grips your hips tightly causing you to still completely. His eyes are wild as he stares at you as he sits up holding your body close to him as you sit on his lap.

“He marked her, but this is different.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t just mark you because I told you I love you.”

You run your fingers through his hair and he softens under your touch, “am I your mate?”

“I believe so. I feel a connection towards you I haven’t ever felt towards someone before. I love you so much.”

“Then why don’t you mark me?”

“Because I want this to be more romantic. I don’t want to do it just because I feel like I’m losing my mind,” he sighs, dropping his head to your shoulder. His lips gently press a kiss to the area he would mark.

“Okay Jisung,” you push him back down on the bed. You smile down at him as you start to move your hips again.

“You better take me on a date after this,” you say, rolling your hips. A small smile spreads across his lips as he stares up at you.

“I will do anything for you,” he says, gripping your hips again.

You ride him until you find your release. The coil in your stomach snaps and a warm wave washes over you, the sweet release you find is unlike anything you have ever felt before. Throwing your head back you moan his name loudly not caring if any of the other boys in the house hear you. His hand tightly grips your hips as he continues to move you up and down his length as he chases his own release. There’s a stretching feeling in your core you've never experienced before. Your eyes go wide realizing his knot is expanding. You moan his name adjusting to the feeling.

He moves your body slowly up and down his length. Each time his slowly expanding knot catches your entrance you can’t help but moan.

“Are you going to let me knot you and fill you up?” He groans. The lusted filled haze is taking over his brain.

Silently you nod unable to form words. “Does it hurt baby?”

“No,” you practically scream, still adjusting to the feeling.

“I knew you could take it.” He starts pressing wet kisses up your neck as he chases his high.

He slams you down on his lap coming undone moaning your name. Leaning forward you collapse on top of him. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close as you both pant trying to catch your breath. This is a moment you want to live in for the rest of your existence.

“I love you,” he whispers, never letting go.

He holds you close reminding you that you are locked together for a while. You lean back a little to look at his beautiful face.

“Sit up for me baby,” he says softly.

With your bodies still locked together you’re resting on your knees as you sit on his lap. His hand gently rests on your hips that are already starting to show fingerprint shaped bruises.

“I hurt you,” he sighs.

“Jisung, you didn’t hurt me. Please don’t ruin this moment by worrying about some bruises. Please just hold me.”

He sighs and lays back down. “Promise me if I ever hurt you, you’ll let me know.”

“I promise, now please hold me before round two.”

He smiles and kisses the top of your head, “I see you already want another round while we’re still locked together.”

-

Laying in his bed he holds your hand tightly. Tomorrow is another full moon, and even though he can now easily change at will. The full moon still scares him. You curl your body close to his resting your head on his chest. Your leg is resting across his stomach as you cling to him.

“Jisung?”

“Yeah baby?”

“Don’t be nervous. It’s going to be way easier than it’s been,” you say softly.

“I’m trying to tell myself things are getting easier,”

Things between you and Jisung are different, but it’s for the better. He pushes your hair to the side and looks at the crescent shaped mark on your skin that’s starting to fully heal.

“Did you want me to stay here or did you want me to go to Chan’s place with Minho’s mate, and Hyunjin’s girlfriend?”

“You can stay with the other girls, if you would like,” he runs his fingers across your mark.

“If I stay at Chan’s house, I’ll be closer to you.”

“You won’t have to wait for me. I'll just join you in bed.”

You lay there holding each other. You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, and you can’t help but fall more and more in love with every beat of his heart.

Regarding my taglist: I’m tagging so many people like 300+ people and the the amount of reblogs and interactions I’m getting compared to my taglist make me quite sad. I kindly ask if you request to be tagged that you interact with my writing. It takes me a really long time to make sure I tag everyone. Im going to start removing silent readers and blank blogs to make tagging easier. If you want to on a taglist the form is still open. Im just really asking for interaction if I’m spending the time to tag you.

Thank you to anyone who has been replaying to the post and reblogging them.

[eureka-its-zico]

Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 5

Ongoing Series

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

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

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

Words: 15.7+

A/N:  This chapter got waaaaaay ahead of me. It got longer and longer without me realizing it. So, I apologize for the length in advance and if this isn't any good. In the anime, Nami has some wild outfits and I wanted to sort of bring that to this adaptation a little. Nothing too crazy, but still Nami anime-esque. Also, don’t shoot me but I had a little creative liberty with something in here it’s not canon so yeaaaaaa…please just indulge me for the story lol. Also, this has another Zoro POV, and from here on out things will be very angsty, because I am the proclaimed mayor of Angstville, courtesy of @chans-room and it is my duty to bring a little to the next few chapters.�� As always, thank you, guys, for all the love and support. For always being so kind and loving it as much as you do. I hope you all continue to enjoy this story🖤 Much Love, Jenn

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Previous Next

“Hey Nami?” 

You hoped the widespread dread you were beginning to feel wasn’t that apparent in your tone as you spoke. You did one last check in the mirror before turning to her reply of, “Hmmm?”

“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but-“

“But?”

God, she looked amused. 

“Is this supposed to be so…short?”

There was no denying Nami liked clothes. Gold. Berry. Okay, so Nami likes shiny things and things that could also buy her the shiny things. She also seemed to have a flair for fashion. Unfortunately, that fashion was intended to be worn on someone with a bit more confidence than you had. For once, you’d wished you’d paid attention to other things outside of just the components of what made up a plant. 

“You don’t like what I picked.” 

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” you stuttered out. “But this skirt is definitely…short.”

In one smooth move, Nami uncrossed her legs and got up from her seat. When she reached you, her hands grabbed your shoulders and gently turned you back to the mirror. Your reflections showed one woman questioning her whole existence because of a skirt with a corset style top, and one who looked confident in everything she did. 

This time you were definitely not the latter. 

“You look hot.” 

“I look ridiculous and I’m afraid to bend over.”

Nami rolled her eyes so hard for a split second all that you saw was white. The hands that were on your shoulders now forcing you to turn from your reflected look of terror to her. Nami’s eyes shown bright with a determination to make you confident in walking out of her room and heading into the restaurant. 

“Doc, do we need to do an affirmation together.” 

“Absolutely not.”

“Then I need you to shake off whatever thoughts you’re having and realize that you are hot. Be confident in your own body.” 

To send her words home, Nami clapped her hands against your shoulders and gave them one last shake before releasing you. You weren’t sure what to do or say after that so you just stood…staring back at her. 

“Are you going to blink?”

“Sorry,” you hummed, shaking your head. “I was still trying to understand why you get a whole shirt and I get this.”

While her pink and tan outfit was tight and showed a good amount, her small eyelet cut out on her shirt barely showed, if any, cleavage. You felt like a bakery with the amount of buns you were selling.  

There was that eye roll again. 

“Oh my god,” she muttered under her breath. “You are impossible.”

Nami appeared to be tired of trying and turned on her heel to go over to a drawer. You weren’t sure what she was doing - or grabbing - but instead of watching her, you found your eyes drifting back to the mirror. You didn’t look bad just…different. You weren’t used to looking hot, as Nami put it but also so exposed. You reached over and grabbed your satchel and placed it over your shoulder, using it like a security blanket. All it did was make you feel more exposed than before, like a fraud wearing your face but dressed as someone more confident than you’d felt. 

The sound of a drawer shutting hard brought you out of your thoughts and back into the present. It didn’t keep your hands from wringing the strap on your satchel. 

Fuck it

“Hey, Nami do you think-“

“Zoro is going to like it? Yeah. I think he won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

You felt like the air had been stripped from your lungs. Your eyes no doubt were large and showing your surprise as you struggled to make words formulate on your tongue.

“Okay, that wasn’t what I was going to ask.”

“It wasn’t?” She teased. 

“You know damn well I was going to ask something else.”

Why does she look so smug? 

No. You were not frowning. 

“Okay, then tell me: what were you going to ask?”

“I suddenly can no longer recall.”

Nami’s smile was joined seconds later with laughter that followed behind you as you tried to make your escape. The sound of very happy feet following closely behind at your heels. You were tempted to look back just to see if she was skipping, but her next teasing words sent you up the stairs two at a time. 

“Sure you don’t.”

“You can’t prove it,” you shot back just as you cleared the stairs. 

The sun was a welcome warmth on your skin after days of being covered in the mist of the fog. The sounds of happy banter between Usopp and Luffy sent you walking towards the main belly of the ship. You could see Usopp dressed in a pirate hat, a leather jacket sans the shirt, and matching pants. A pair of circle sunglasses adorned his face and you had to admit he looked pretty cool. Luffy just made you want to reach over and gently pinch his cheeks.

How is anyone supposed to take him seriously…

He was wearing overalls, for Christ sakes. Luffy looked absolutely adorable. 

At the sound of your approach the guys turned towards you and the reaction you received made you want to throttle Nami. Luffy’s smile faltered ever slightly and Usopp wouldn’t even look you in the eye. 

“Hey Doc, you look-ugh different.”

“Gee, thanks Usopp,” you grumbled. 

“Are you guys done playing dress up so we can get a drink?”

Of course he was more interested in a drink than food. Of course, Zoro sounded like his usual grumpy self, as well. The problem? He didn’t look like his usual grumpy self. 

While Zoro had been wearing t-shirts and jeans - things that looked comfy and regular the past few days - it was replaced with something dangerous. The hue of his kimono style shirt was a blue so deep it could’ve come from the ocean itself. 

The most dangerous part about the shirt wasn’t just that it left a devilish window of skin on his chest available to torment your eyes. It was that same v-shaped window indicated the indent of a sculpted chest and collarbones, but the fabric at his arms hugged the muscles tight. The same strong arms you’d watch do repeated reps with weights and push-ups. Muscles that moved with ease under the skin as he skillfully practiced with his swords.

The dangerous part, after all of this, was that it mimicked a gi. The fabric folded over each other telling you that it would only take a slight tug from your hand to release the tucked material from his pants, from the safety of his sashed belt to leave his chest exposed to your hands and-

God, focus on something else. 

But you couldn’t focus on anything else. How could you with the way he was looking at you? 

Zoro’s eyes scanned over your body and every inch his gaze lingered caused your skin to flush. You fought the urge to fidget with the strap of your satchel but couldn’t stop your teeth from pulling in your bottom lip. Zoro’s eyes caught the movement and honed in on it. Your breath hitched in your throat and you could’ve sworn Zoro noticed that too. 

You were supposed to dislike him. He was an asshole. A drunk. A pain in the ass with a smart mouth. God, it didn’t stop you from wanting him so bad your body ached. From the way he was watching you, you could’ve sworn maybe it felt the same for him. It was a nice thought until he opened his mouth. 

“You’re going to wear that?”

And just like that, whatever witchcraft was in the air to make you think of doing anything other than annoying the shit out of him was gone. 

“I think she looks good.”

Nami came to stand beside you and tore Zoro’s eyes from you to her. 

“Yeah she does,” Usopp agreed from behind you, “but Naan would have a fit if she saw you dressed like this.”

A groan exhaled from your lips as you turned and started for the ramp. No, you were not stomping your feet. You just needed to get off this damn boat and away from all the idiot men aboard. 

“Good thing Naan isn’t here, then,” you huffed. 

You could practically feel Usopp shrug his shoulders, his hands up in question as he yelled after you, “I was just being honest. Naan would tell her it wasn’t practical.” 

You weren’t sure who he said the last part too and you didn’t care. You were already stepping over the side of the Merry and heading towards the ramp when you felt a presence behind you. You expected it to be Nami and what you got was the shock of seeing Moss colored hair and the glint of three gold earrings. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m walking. What does it look like?” 

But why must you do it next to me?

The question hung on the back of your tongue. You weren’t brave enough to ask it, because you could already hear the question of, “Why?”. Why did it matter if Zoro chose to walk beside, in front, or behind you? It shouldn’t matter what he chose to do, but it did matter because the way he looked at you just now was forever burned into your frontal lobe.

“Just this once you couldn’t just leave the swords on the ship?”

“Wherever I go the Wado Ichimonji goes.”

Of course it does

You expected him to do his usual of falling back to stand with Luffy. It’s what he usually did. Today was apparently shaping up to be an unusual one. Not only did he not stop walking with you, he continued to follow close behind you as you entered into the Baratie. His presence was hard to miss since when you stopped inside the foray of the restaurant Zoro was mere inches from your back. 

“Must you stand so damn close to me?” 

Each word was uttered through clenched teeth. You didn’t want to turn around and look at him. You didn’t need eyes in the back of your head to know if you did you would come fast first to the exposed skin of his chest. 

“Why’d you bring your satchel in here? Are you worried someone is going to stub their toe?”

“Can you for two seconds-“

The words had come out as a growl. Your skin bristled with a heated irritation to rip into him, and tell him that he was being his infamous asshole self. Cool points went to you for not completely falling apart when you caught sight of him. 

Zoro was too damn close looking how he looked with his chest exposed like that. His hands in their rightful place of one in his pocket and the other resting casually on his sword. The darkness of his eyes appeared so endless you were certain the moon could call them home. Maybe she already had and that’s why they sparked to life every time he looked at you. 

Just like now. 

One minute, Zoro’s face held its usual emotionless stare and the next you watched as his eyes lit up like fireworks in the night sky; celebrating an event you once again missed. A soft tug on the corner of his lip lifted just enough you could’ve called it a smirk. 

When did he start looking at you like this?

That wasn’t even the biggest question. The biggest question was, when did you start to fall for it? 

You felt your tongue involuntarily flick out to wet your suddenly dry lips, and to your horror Zoro’s eyes lazily watched the movement. He didn’t even try to hide it. 

Oh god, you should’ve stayed on the boat.

You watched Nami come through the double doors entrance and the way her face lit up as her eyes roamed between the both of you instantly sent your eyes rolling. You were never going to hear the end of this. You let out a deep breath, your eyes scanning one last time in his direction, before you walked over to join Nami. 

The Baratie was a thing of beauty. You’d never seen a building like it. While the outside was made of boards of broken down ships in the style of an actual fish, red siding and white ashwood for those fishy lips, the inside was a well thought out piece of beauty. The foray split open to a staircase of cherry wood that led down to a tiled floor of checkered black and white. It should’ve looked ridiculous, but only the center was made with these tiles. The rest was made with the continued us of the cherry wood that led up to an intricate painting on the ceiling. Sections of the fish's belly were carved out into long booths that looked like they could comfortably seat a party of eight. 

Also, the smell of the food was making you almost willing to grovel to get a plate because there was no way- 

“Welcome to Baratie. How may I help you?”

The fishman was polite enough with his semi-warm smile. It was the smile of a man forced to be approachable and nice all day, and not one that he meant. 

“Hi. Where do we eat?”

Luffy’s smile on the other hand could make a rainbow weep. 

“Do you have a reservation, sir?”

Yup. There was no way you guys could afford a place like this or apparently even have the chance to get in. You could feel your shoulders deflate as you walked over to the railing and leaned your arms against it. All the people dining - all the pirates - didn’t appear the least bit phased at your staring. Luffy pressed himself shoulder-to-shoulder with you with the two of you taking in the fancy scene before you. 

To be fair, with food like what they were being served you wouldn’t care who watched you stuff your face either. 

“Do we need one?” 

Your forehead had already relocated itself to the cool wood of the rail. Your knees meeting the metal as you tried not to laugh at how cluelessly innocent Luffy was. 

“We are very full today. I could put you on the waiting list. It’s three weeks out.” 

“Maybe you want to check your book again.” Usopp walked forward, as confident as ever, and leaned himself against the hostess podium. You were expecting one of his smooth stories and instead wanted to throw yourself over the side of the railing as he finished. “You wouldn’t want to turn away the future King of the Pirates, would you?”

“And who is that supposed to be, sir?”

“Monkey D. Luffy. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”

Based on the heavy sigh that came from the hostess you could tell his patience was wearing thin. So was his pleasantness. 

“Well, in that case, I suppose we could find you a table. In three weeks.”

Usopp came to stand beside you with a smile as big as the ocean blue on his face. He was so proud, like he’d accomplished something major. Usopp had both the ability to create bullshit from thin air, and the ability to believe others would believe what he said without question. That’s why he was giving you the finger gun of celebration without noticing the look on the hostess face - or the mumbled words. 

“Even out here, Doc I still got it.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

You noticed Nami move forward as Luffy conjoined himself to your other available side. You were now perfectly sandwiched between your Captain and your best friend. Both of them jumping in giddy excitement at the idea of sitting down at any minute and eating. 

“What are you going to eat, Doc?”

“I hadn’t thought about it, yet. I didn’t think we’d get past the front door.”

“Why is that?”

“She’s always been a little cynical ever since we were kids.”

You balked at Usopp’s admission and if you could’ve scoffed any louder it would’ve turned into a cough. 

“I am not cynical!”

“You are literally one of the most cynical people I’ve ever met.”

“That’s because I’m one of the few people you’ve ever met who still talks to you,” you grumbled. 

“See? That cynicism is turning its ugly little head right now. It’s okay, Doc. I forgive you.”

Your mouth was open, a reply stationed on your tongue, when you heard something shocking behind you. The hostess was advising Nami to follow after him and when you glanced at her as she smiled at Zoro, you wondered what had been said. All it took was for Usopp to see him beckoning for them to follow for his ego to be boosted. His hands clapping happily against yours and Luffy’s shoulders as he giggled out, “See, I told you it would work.” 

You peeled yourself from the railing and headed to follow the rest of the crew when, once again, you realized Zoro was waiting at the stairs edge. He wasn’t looking at you while he waited, however, for his eyes were glued to the many possibilities of would be threats in the room. 

As soon as your feet touched down on the burgundy runner that ran the length of the stairs Zoro followed after. It wasn’t like the last time when you could feel him practically right on your heels. A switch had turned on in his head and Zoro was on high alert. 

Luffy took the last step in a loud double-footed jump that finally brought the attention of most of the tables to your descent. While up top, looking down from the foray, the space in the booth’s had looked massive. It still was, but a startling realization that you could end up next to Zoro left you scrambling for some space. 

“I have to pee.”

You’d just gotten to the tables edge and it felt like the only thing to say to save yourself. Everyone froze for all of a few seconds before they continued scooting into the booth. 

“Okay, Doc. Go to the bathroom,” Nami stated. 

She looked so relaxed that you felt incredibly jealous. You wish you could be that cool, calm, and collected all the time. Except, obviously, when Luffy was testing her patience. 

You turned to ask the host where it could be located when the sound of Zoro’s swords thrashing around turned your head in his direction. For a split second, he looked a little flushed. His eyes scanning the room to see if anyone had watched him try and fail, very badly, at getting his swords to go inside the booth. 

“Just take them off,” you huffed at him in passing. 

“I’ve got this.”

Zoro’s eyes were still trained on the room, on every pair of eyes that dared to stare back, as he moved to the other side with Nami. Even then you watched him struggle to move his swords into the alcove between the pillar and the seat. 

“If you still need to use the facilities Miss, they will be right this way.” 

You gave the table with Luffy and your crew mates one last look before you followed the host closely to the safety behind a locked door. 

Did locking the door seem a bit much when there were four available stalls inside? Yes. When you say you needed to hear that click to signify that you were completely alone to ease some of the growing tension in your shoulders, you meant it. 

You rushed over to the sink and found your hands grabbing at the porcelain to help center yourself. Your head was dizzy from the mental whiplash that seemed to be your relationship with Zoro. One minute, you couldn’t stand him and he seemed equally annoyed with your very existence. The next, he was helping you with your sea sickness or inadvertently doing things around the ship to make your life a little easier. Now, he was looking at you differently. Zoro was acting strange, but honestly, when wasn’t he? 

You glanced up at your reflection in the mirror. The words falling automatically from your lips. 

“So are you.” 

It wasn’t all him. It never was. Cause and effect. One couldn’t exist without the other, and maybe that was why you felt the way you did gazing at your reflection. You’d been trying to deny the gravitational pull that you were hopelessly fighting against ever since you met him. Before you’d ever seen his face your soul seemed to say, “Oh, there you are.” 

It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t scientific and yet here you were locked inside of a bathroom all because the thought of sitting next to him made your heart feel like it would try and flee your chest. 

You allowed yourself a couple more minutes to boost yourself back up. You could do this. It was just a guy. A guy who’d tucked a flower behind your ear and looked at you like you’d both strung up the stars and drank the last bottle of his rum. 

A knock on the bathroom door brought you crashing back to reality. You quickly moved over to the door to release the latch. You’d barely had any time to move back before a woman came barreling through looking not too pleased with you locking the door. You mouthed a, “sorry,” in a way of apology before you made yourself scarce and walked back out to the table. 

The minute you stepped back into the main dining room you got the sense you’d missed something. Your eyes searched over the tables. You found a pair of shoes that belonged to a pair of legs that was attached to a man lying lifelessly still on the floor. 

Yup. You’d most definitely missed something. 

The doctor in you immediately wanted to go to the man and make sure he wasn’t dead. You could practically feel your toes point in the direction for the rest of your body to follow. You just weren’t sure if it was something you should do in a room full of pirates. Plus, no one else seemed particularly worried that he wasn’t breathing so that should be good enough for you. 

You were bouncing on your feet. You wanted to go check so badly. It almost happened to where you were going to say fuck it and just go check when you noticed your waiter at your table. He was tall, strong build set inside a stylish suit with stark white hair that appeared to reach his cheeks. He didn’t look happy to be there until his eyes spotted Nami and a smile as smooth as sin slid across his face. 

He is handsome. 

Nami looked unimpressed and a part of you was dying to know what the hell was happening. Luckily for you, you were about to find out. 

As you approached the table Zoro’s eyes that had narrowed in on their waiter flicked to your oncoming approach and…did he look worried? The annoyance that had hardened his eyes noticeably softened, his back sitting up straighter in his seat while he continued to watch you come to the table. He had his arms crossed over his chest and you wanted to scream. Everything was flexing at you and it just felt like the universe was incredibly unfair. 

“Sorry guys. Uhm have you guys noticed the ugh guy just laying there on the floor” you stated. 

You were looking. Again. 

You were standing next to the waiter who turned to greet you, his hands tucked in his pockets - fuckin great another one. The smile had wilted at the edges until his eyes fell on you and instantly he flashed a set of pretty teeth. 

“They’re alright, madam. Just a couple of men who needed to be reminded of the rules of the house. My name is Sanji and I’ll be your waiter for this evening. Is there anything that I can get you to start? Appetizers? A drink, perhaps?”

Sanji was incredibly polite and his accent was as smooth as the rest of him. His eyes were impossibly blue. While Nami’s appeared almost gray at times, especially when she became upset and the color darkened like storm clouds, Sanji’s reminded you of azure aster’s in the spring. 

“What is the strongest thing you have?”

You really could use that drink. You were in the middle of taking your satchel from across your body, eyes scoping to see where you would sit, when Sanji’s reply stopped you died in your tracks.

“That would be me, sweetheart.”

Did he just wink at you? 

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“I think he just does that.” Nami cut in sending your eyes to travel to where she sat inside the booth. “It’s like an involuntary tick or something.”

“Oh. Explains a lot.”

You knew Sanji could tell you were both taking the piss out of him, but there was no denying he was a good sport about it. 

“Not a tick. Just a show of appreciation for two lovely ladies, such as yourselves.” 

“Okay. I’ve heard enough.” 

A soft yelp of surprise came from you as you felt a soft, yet calloused hand grab at your wrist and, not so gently, pull you to their side. Zoro’s side. He had just magically removed himself from the booth and was pulling you to the now open section. The section that would put you next to Nami, but also him. 

“Oy, women don’t like to be manhandled like that,” Sanji interjected. 

“This one likes to be manhandled quite often. We don’t need your concern.”

Usopp’s water sprayed across the table and you were willing to bet that would’ve been your very own reaction if you didn’t have a mouthful of words. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” You blanched back at him. 

Zoro’s attention wasn’t directed at you. He and the waiter seemed to be in a battle of…something. Even as he sat back down, his legs spread broad and arms crossed back over his chest, Zoro oozed two simple words: “Try me.”

“See, that’s your problem right there. Women don’t like to be manhandled-“

“Sometimes we do,” Nami mumbled and you had to hide your smirk with your hand.

“They like to be treated like queen’s and with respect.”

“I thought a waiter’s job was to bring food to the table. I don’t see any food.” 

The tension that rose around you was palpable. The two of them acted like they were caught in a verbal pissing match. Nervously, you glanced around the table to find Usopp playing with his napkin while peeking out to look at both the men. Luffy just looked genuinely lost. 

Same. 

You imagined there was a chance you would never get that drink, or any food, with how this evening was turning out. Finally, with an irritated roll of his tongue along his jaw Sanji turned to the rest of the table and tried to apply that same easy going smile as before. 

“I’ll be right back with your order. Please let me know if there is anything else I can get you ladies.” 

“They’re fine.” 

With one last glance in Zoro’s direction Sanji left and headed back into what you assumed must be the kitchen. When you were sure he was gone you turned and smacked Zoro in his arm. He didn’t even look phased. 

“What?”

“‘What?’” You mimicked back at him. That earned you a stare. “What in the hell was that?”

“Seems to me like somebody was jealous.”

Usopp teased and for once when Zoro’s eyes narrowed in on him, Usopp didn’t even flinch. 

“I’m not jealous of a waiter.”

“Your actions say otherwise,” Nami reminded him. 

In usual Zoro fashion he didn’t respond right away. His arms tightened a little more on his chest as he situated his back higher against the back of the booth. His jaw ticking like a time bomb refusing to respond to any of your prodding. 

You wanted answers. You wanted him to explain what the hell that was all about, because your skin was still burning where his hand had latched on to you. It felt possessive; a man reaching out to claim something that was his. 

The world around you might as well have gone by in a blur. You knew at some point the drinks and food had been deposited on the table. You could smell the delicious food sitting in front of you; the appetizers everyone was sharing around the table. The only thing you were able to focus on was tracing the place of where his fingers had wrapped around your wrist. Your mind felt like it was held prisoner, unable to let go and it wasn’t until you felt someone’s presence leaning closer to you in the booth that you finally broke free.

“Are you not going to eat?” 

Nami’s question whispered against your neck and you had to fight to suppress the shiver that threatened to move down your spine. When had she gotten so close? Nami was looking at you like you’d given her reason to worry. 

How long had you been sitting there staring off into space? Your eyes drifted to glance around the table - Luffy noticeably with his mouth full - and the drink sitting in front of you. 

“Oh, thank god. Booze,” you mumbled, as you reached out to take the glass. 

It took you less than a minute to bring the rim to your lips and down it in two very audible gulps. You tried not to make a face as the liquor hit the back of your throat. When you’d told Sanji you wanted something strong, he’d delivered. 

“Well, at least you did something other than stare off into space.”

“You know, it might not be any of my business-“

“I don’t think a sentence started that way leads to anything good.”

Usopp didn’t seem the least bit deterred by Zoro’s words. He continued to trim a piece of the meat off his steak while he glanced around the table. While you didn’t know what it was Usopp was about to say or ask, you knew one thing was for sure. You needed more- 

“Beer! Yes!”

God, help you, but you were giggling from excitement of finding more alcohol. Just as you reached out to grab it, Zoro’s voice came bombarding through your good time. 

“That’s mine.”

You were sure Zoro was expecting you to set the bottle back down. To not uncap the top and stare him down as you bring the bottle up to your lips and take a long, slow pull. When you finished you set your now claimed beer down in front of you.

“It was yours.”

“I was wondering, Zoro, how you got that bruise on your face?”

Usopp motioned to the exact spot where the bruise in question used to be with the hand that held his steak knife. You cringed at the idea of him hurting himself, and could feel the words of caution bubbling up on your tongue. 

“I don’t have a bruise.”

“You did, though,” Luffy offered up in between his next bit. “It was on your left cheek.” 

“That was me.”

Why were you raising your hand? Quickly, you set it back down in your lap. The smile that spread across your lips, however, stayed. 

“Doc, let’s not go around telling tall-tales, okay,” Usopp chuckled. 

“Usopp, you are the king of tall-tales. Mine is very much real,” you beamed. 

Nami looked between the two of you. Her eyes got brighter with each passing second as she realized you weren’t lying. 

“Oh my god,” she chuckled. “It is true, isn’t it.” 

“Yup.”

You popped the p at the end for dramatic effect. Your hand grabbing a hold of your new bottle of beer that you quickly took a sip of. 

“You seem way too happy about this,” Zoro grumbled, his food now forgotten. 

You couldn’t deny you were enjoying retelling this moment. The way everyone else acted, it’s as if you’d taken on a giant and everyone was surprised you’d survived. If that was the case, you would have to take a page out of Usopp’s book and embellish the story just a little. 

“So, there I was racing back to get to Kaya’s to save you guys, when I heard a lot of strange grunting coming from the well.” 

“The one you hate?” 

“Yes, Usopp, that exact one. I was going to pass by when the sounds got even worse - someone was indeed stuck inside the well. When I went over to peer across the ledge a wild Moss-haired idiot appeared from the side.”

“I’m going to have to object to this retelling.”

You waved Zoro’s words off and fought the urge to shush him. 

“No interruptions, please. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah the Moss-haired idiot who came over the side-“

“And instead of helping me this psycho decided to punch me and almost send me back down the well.”

“Psycho?” You balked.

“Yeah, a psycho. What kind of person sees someone struggling to get out of a well and, instead of helping them, tries to send them back down?”

“Why are you guys always like this,” Nami cut in.

“Like what?”

“You guys act like you can’t say one nice thing to each other or it’s going to be the end of the world.”

“I can too say something nice.”

You were not going to pout. Nami’s brows raised upwards like you’d told her there was no such thing as the West Blue and that fish could fly. You crossed your arms to try and ward her off, but there was no getting away from it. 

“Can I just say, this food is so good? I don’t know if I can take another bite - but I’m gonna.”

You allowed them to comment about the food. The food you still hadn’t tried. While you’d sat in silence, stewing over thoughts filled with questions and not enough answers everyone had eaten. 

“Oh, man you said it.” 

“I’m not going to be able to eat for a week,” Nami agreed. 

“Should we get dessert?”

“I have all I need right here,” Zoro stated, his thumb flicking the top off his beer before he took a drink. 

You could feel a smart ass remark sitting in the back of your throat. You wanted to say it - to see that flash of irritation darken his eyes. You liked the idea of getting under his skin, because whether you wanted to admit it or not, Zoro was definitely under yours. Maybe it would’ve been simpler if you’d stayed at Syrup Village. 

“Mmm! That reminds me. We should make a toast! Everyone grab your glasses. To the best crew sailing on the sea and to our victory. Yeah!”

Luffy grabbed his glass of milk and held it up. His happiness is enough to get most of you to join him in raising a glass. Hell, it was enough to get Usopp to clink his beer against Luffy’s milk. 

Beside you, Zoro smiled and took a drink from his bottle and you never wanted to be an alcoholic beverage more in your life. You needed to get out of this booth. You seriously needed to go back to the ship and think about your life choices. 

“No, I’m sorry. What victory exactly?”

Nami didn’t try to make her tone flat or hide the question off her face. She was genuinely perplexed, while the rest of you were eager for any reason just to drink. 

“Our victory against the marines. It was our very first battle and we crushed them.”

“I don’t know how many naval battles you guys have been a part of-“

“Two dozen, at least.”

Why did Usopp’s response not surprise you in the slightest. 

“But that was a disaster,” Nami continued without missing a beat. “We were unprepared, uncoordinated. By all rights, we should be at the bottom of the sea.”

“We’re not though. Luffy saved us.”

For a split second, this Nami you were seeing was different from the one you’d spent the last few days aboard the Merry. Sure, at times she could have a prickly exterior, but never like this. Usopp defending Luffy triggered something inside her - something rage-filled and dangerous. Something born from desperation. 

“Are we really going to ignore the elephant in the room right now?”

Luffy was smiling like he usually did. Unable to follow wherever Nami was leading you all, but you could sense it. You weren’t sure what drove you to try and play peacekeeper. Why you spoke her name softly between you and tried to reach out to her, only for her to pull away like you’d stung her. 

“You failed to mention that your grandfather was a marine. And not just any marine, but a Vice-Admiral, at that! I don’t know about you three, but I didn’t sign up for that.”

Zoro had been listening to her through closed eyes. You weren’t sure if he was truly trying to listen or dismiss what she had to say, but it surprised you when he stepped in. His first instinct was to stick up for Luffy, something you hadn’t been expecting. 

“You raided a marine base. Of course that’ll make you a target.” 

“I’m sorry what?”

If you had been drinking or eating, you would’ve choked. Neither of them seemed to pay you any mind. 

“If I stole the map, no one would’ve known I was there, as opposed to wrecking a base commander’s office.” 

Yes, you could vaguely recall Luffy’s speech to Kaya about all the marvelous things they’d done in the few days they’d known each other. Did you necessarily believe him at the time? Not really. But now…

Before a fresh wave of thoughts could wash up in your brain, Sanji magically appeared placing the bill on the table. 

“Your bill, sir.”

Luffy looked around at all of you, a soft smile playing at his lips, as he held up his finger for all of you to wait. He quickly signed the receipt and handed it back. 

“Thank you, my good man.”

Sanji took the bill back, his eyebrow quirked up as he read whatever Luffy had signed at the bottom. Whatever it was sent a grin wider than the East Blue to brighten up his face. 

“No, sir. Thank you.”

Luffy waited for Sanji to leave the table before he looked back at you all. For once, he wasn’t all smiles. All that care-free energy was contained and replaced with a seriousness you weren’t sure you liked. 

“Look, I’m not saying it’s good that the Marines are on our tail, but we showed them that they can’t just roll over us. This crew, our crew, can handle anything.”

It would’ve been a riveting Captain's speech if it wasn’t interrupted the second he finished speaking. 

“Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?”

The voice that rang across the Baratie was thick with age. You didn’t have to look far to know it belonged to the older gentleman who stood at the entrance to what you could only assume was the kitchen. His peg leg made clunking noises off the tile as he made his way towards the table. 

How did he know where to go? Luffy was just leaning out the side of the booth waving ever so-slightly with his smile back on his face. “Here.”

“You seem to be confused about the rules of the house, but Baratie doesn’t offer credit. You eat, you pay.”

How much is the food? 

You only had thirty-three Berry to your name. You started to reach inside your bag when Luffy waved you to stop. The older Chef looked from you and back to Luffy who placed his hands together like he was about to pray. 

“I think you’re confused. The meal has already been paid for. I just haven’t given you the money yet.”

“Yeah, and how’s that?”

“You can add it to my treasure tab.”

Your forehead hit the edge of the table so fast you weren’t even sure it actually hurt. 

“And what, pray tell, is that?”

“I may not look like a big deal yet, but you’re talking to the future King of the Pirates. And as soon as I find the One Piece, I’m going to come back, pay this bill in full, and with interest.” 

At least the Chef had the decency to chuckle before he lurched down and grabbed Luffy by the front of his overalls. 

“I got a better idea.” 

You watched as he placed Luffy in front of him with a controlling hand held on to his shoulder. A way to keep him from running, if he tried, but you knew Luffy would go without a fight. You glanced around the table to find no one making a move to follow. 

“You guys are seriously just going to sit here,” you huffed. 

Nami leaned her head back against the booth. Her eyes looking up at the ceiling and refusing to look anywhere else. 

“I need a drink.”

“Yeah,” Zoro chuckled as he grabbed a hold of what was left of his beer. “Now you’re talking.” 

You’d waited until they all removed themselves from the booth before you slipped away. You were sure the three of them wouldn’t miss your presence as you made your way towards the kitchen. It wasn’t until you’d passed the last pillar before the kitchen that you felt the familiar touch of calloused fingers wrap themselves lazily around your wrist. 

The tug you felt this time was softer - a plea for your attention instead of forcing it. You weren’t sure what you expected when you turned around. If Zoro would be his usual unreadable smoothness like stone or if the corner of his eyes would be tinged with annoyance. There were only a few possibilities that you’d grown accustomed to and all of them were nothing of what you got. 

When you turned to meet him, Zoro didn’t look like he usually did. The hardness that kept him unreadable was replaced with something softer. His lips parted as he searched your face with your wrist still held loosely in his hand. 

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to help, Luffy.”

“Luffy, can handle himself.” 

“Zoro-“

You weren’t sure why your tone had come off saying his name as breathy as it did. As if you were both tucked inside the alcove of a church hiding to keep from being caught doing something forbidden. You also couldn’t explain why when he dropped your wrist from his hand you’d chosen to place it on his chest. It wasn’t until you’d done that you realized just how close you both were. 

“I’m not going to leave him to do dishes by himself until he tells me too.” 

“How do you know he’s doing dishes?”

“Why the hell else would he take him into the kitchen?” 

“Good point.”

You removed your hand from his chest and, for a split second, you thought you saw a glint of loss. 

“You guys head to the bar and I’ll meet you there shortly.”

Zoro made no move to leave. He stood there looking every bit as intimidating as a man with three swords could be, while also looking seemingly lost. He appeared to be thinking something over - a debate in his mind about whether or not he should even say whatever was weighing heavily there. 

You almost told him to just spit it out, but he looked like he would rather chew on razor blades than say whatever it was. When Zoro finally got it off his chest it sounded like he’d choked. 

“What about the waiter?”

Confusion clouded your features as you replied, “What about him? Do you need me to find him for you or-“

Zoro waved you off. He looked more awkward now than you’d ever seen him. All the cool confidence that he’d oozed seemingly gone in the blink of an eye, and replaced with a hand behind his neck and eyes that refused to meet yours. 

“No. I mean be careful of the waiter?”

“I’m confused.” That was an understatement. “Is there something I’m missing about this waiter?”

“No - it's - never mind. I’ll just see you when you finish doing whatever it is you plan to do.” 

“Okay.”

“What are you planning to do?”

Your head was metaphorically and literally spinning from the conversation. One second, Zoro looked ready to follow after Usopp and Nami who were no doubt already at a table with drink in hand. The next, he seemed uncharacteristically bashful. 

You didn’t want to smile. What if it ruined the moment? 

“I plan on helping Luffy by helping the Chef.”

“I’m going to pretend that makes sense.”

When you gave him a thumbs up in response you wished lightning would’ve come down and burnt you to a crisp. What made it worse? From the smile that was beginning to work its way at the corners of Zoro’s lips, you could practically hear what he was going to say. 

“You really are masterful with replies.”

“Okay, well, I’m gonna go in there now,” you stated. Your body slowly backed away from him and the heart stopping smile that was only growing wider. 

When did he start smiling at you like that?

You were almost to the swinging double doors when someone came rushing through and collided immediately with your back. The sound of dishes crashing sent your eyes wide and finally tore you away from the swordsman in front of you. 

“Fuck.”

“Oi, what’s going on out here?”

Double fuck. 

You stooped down to help the waiter pick up the pieces of plates that had shattered on the ground and the food right along with it. 

“What the bloody hell is going on ‘ere?”

Looking up from your crouched position on the floor, you were greeted by the same Chef who had pulled Luffy into the back. Without thinking you jolted to stand upright to face him with your hands struggling to keep the pieces of broken plate from dropping. 

“I came to help my Captain in your kitchen.”

As the words left your mouth, so too did a couple pieces of a plate. 

“No.”

It was abrupt. It was harsh and it was final. He didn’t even give you a chance to try and change his mind. The hard sound of his peg leg turning back into the kitchen cutting off whatever your next sentence might have been. 

“Hey! I can help!”

You pushed through the double doors and narrowly missed a cook passing by with a flaming piece of meat sautéing in the pan. You pulled a face and quickly moved away. This time you were watching closely where you were going and playing extra close attention to the fast pace movements happening around you. 

For someone so large, the Chef made his way with ease around the kitchen. You weren’t sure if he was just light on his feet or if everyone in the kitchen just learned to work around him. 

“No.” He sounded like he’d smoked two packs of smokes a day and finished it off by gargling with a cigar. “What you can do is get out of my kitchen before you make more of a mess.”

“Hey Doc!” Luffy waved from his place in the corner. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to help you.”

And to show how helpful you were, you placed the broken pieces of plate down on the table. The old man regarded him momentarily before looking back at you. 

“You’re with him?”

“Yeah I am.”

The old man turned back to Luffy, a large thumb pointed back to you as he spoke, “She broke a couple plates outside. That’s also added to your tab.”

“Oh, okay wait!” You came around the corner of a cutting station, arms still out in front of you like you were warding off a bear. “That’s why I'm here. I have a service I think would benefit you.”

“And what, pray tell, would that be?”

You put on your brightest smile and flared your arms out in front of you like you were a prize to behold. 

“I’m a doctor.” 

You expected a different reaction. A completely different reaction to him looking like he was about to make you fish food. 

“Get out of my kitchen.”

“Did you hear me-“

“I heard you just fine, girl. What I need is for you to get out of my kitchen.” 

The way he called you girl reminded you of Naan. It was the same tone that was used to tell you that you were in the way. You weren’t helping. You were just being a pain in the ass. There were more than a handful of times that you’d told Naan you could help; you knew enough to assist with minor surgeries. To help with childbirth when the women came in hollering and screaming like their body was being broken and molded anew. 

You’d spent your whole life learning how to forage and create and heal. You knew you could help - that you could ease this man’s pain. 

“No.”

When crystal blue eyes honed in on your position you refused to bend. You stared back at him and for the first time ever you squared your own shoulders in defiance. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Your stump - I bet it hurts you something awful. The problem with prosthetics is that they still rub the skin - can bruise. What if I tell you that I can make you a salve that can alleviate that for you?”

He’d placed his hands on his hips somehow making him appear broader. He was trying to intimidate you, but he had nothing on a little old lady and her cane. 

“She is really the best doctor in all of the East Blue. If your leg really does hurt you, why not let Doc try and see if it helps?” 

He looked from Luffy and back to you - his eyes showing how undecided he was. You thought you were going to have to try again when he finally replied, “You got one hour before the second dinner. If it isn’t as good as you say I’m doubling what he owes me.”

The joy you felt at winning something was quickly taken from you as you resisted the urge to chase after him. 

“Wait what?!”

The old man wasn’t going to answer you. He was too busy walking away, off to see something about food. You didn’t even get a chance to ask him for a pot or if he had any mortars in his kitchen. You glanced over at Luffy who was giving you two thumbs up and smiling his usual smile. 

At least one of you believed in you. 

You were about to remind him that you were left with nothing to use when the waiter from earlier, Zoro’s best friend, magically appeared. His jacket was now missing and the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to expose his forearms. 

“I’m assuming you’re in need of some assistance.”

A breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding released from you in a soft laugh of gratitude. 

“Yes, please! I need a pot and mortar and pestle. If you can direct me where to get them-“

“No, I can get them for you. I live to serve.” 

Sanji spared you one last parting smile before he moved swiftly around the kitchen collecting what you’d asked. Everything else you either already had in your satchel or you could easily run back to the ship to get. Somewhere in the back of your mind, when Sanji came back to hand you your requested items and winked, you swore you could hear Zoro’s teeth grinding in irritation. 

Zeff, as you later learned from Sanji, had given you all of one hour to make your salve. You’d finished in forty minutes. 

The kitchen had been cleared out and empty, which you learned was the usual between the break up in the first, second, and third dinner. It also meant it gave you ample time to look over Zeff’s leg. Not that the old man looked the least bit thrilled about it. 

His rough exterior was making it hard for you not to be a little jumpy. Add in the extra audience of both Luffy and Sanji who seemed to be fascinated just from you removing the old man’s boot a little harder to work. 

The minute you’d removed the wooden prosthetic from his knee you immediately could see the bruising. The hard rashes that bleed across the skin leaving angry marks that almost threatened to make the skin weep. You couldn’t keep the air from hissing between your teeth as you took in a sharp breath. 

You could hear Zeff too. The way he tried to swallow back down a groan that threatened to become something close to a cry of pain. Gently, you set it aside and started getting to work. Your hands pull out clean linen and wrap from your satchel and the green chiterra you’d just harvested. 

You got up from where you sat and poured warm water into a bowl Luffy just cleaned. Immediately, you placed a clean cloth inside until it was completely soaked and rung it out before you gently placed it on his stump. You could hear the whistle of pain flash between his teeth, but you didn’t look to see if he was glaring at you still. You continued to smash up the chiterra until it made a paste. 

Once you knew everything was ready, you gently began to clean the skin; exposing the places where the rash had torn skin. In those areas you placed the chiterra and in the areas where no broken skin showed you deposited the salve. The minty scent enveloped the space and as you began to wrap up Zeff’s leg, you dared to peek at him. 

“What is that smell? Mint?”

“Aloe Vera. It helps with burns and irritations on the skin. I figured it would help soothe your skin. Give you some relief.”

“Hmmm.”

It was a sound you’d grown up with. Naan made the same kind when she was unsure of what to say. When she wasn’t ready to admit you were right or that you’d proven yourself capable. 

“There.” You huffed as you put the prosthetic back on. “Make sure you wash it at least once a day. The salve can be put on two to three times daily. Don’t be scared to be generous with it and-“ you pulled the piece of paper you’d written the measurements and ingredients on. Your fingers waving it back and forth in front of him just to make sure you had his attention. “I’ll give you the recipe if you knock off more than half of what Luffy owes you. Deal?”

“You really think your fancy medicine is worth more than my food?”

“Is it worth more than your comfort? You tell me: how does your leg feel now?”

You tried to hide your growing smile as you could see the battle Zeff was warring on in his head. While he was old and stubborn, you knew relief from pain of any kind was usually the path most took. 

With a heavy sigh, Zeff put his hand out for the paper and you knew you had him. This time you did allow a cheeky smile to celebrate. 

“Your Naan teach you to be a pain in the ass like this too?” 

“Nope. That I’ve learned all on my own.” 

“Sounds about right.”

You leaned back on the stool and watched as Zeff began to get up. The caution his body had grown accustomed too every time he moved was noticeable in his slow movements. 

“I told you she was the best in all of the East Blue.”

Luffy looked so proud. You weren’t sure what you expected, but the amount of pride he radiated was something new to you. Sure, you’d had Naan tell you that you did good but it wasn’t the same. There was something about the way Luffy looked at people - really looked - to the point for the first time you felt seen. 

Luffy didn’t just say he thought you were the best because he was trying to talk you up. He believed in you and what you could do. 

“Yeah, that may be so, but you still owe me some clean dishes.” 

“I’ll get right on it.”

He smacked the top of the chair he’d been sitting in as he got up. He didn’t argue or call for a rest. Luffy simply headed back towards the sink to finish on the load of dishes he’d left as they’d watched you work. The idea of him still slaving away in the space while you were all out there enjoying yourselves didn’t feel right.  

“You should be able to go out with the rest of us and have a drink.”

“I’ll be alright here. You go on ahead and meet the rest of the crew. I’ll be with you guys soon enough.” 

How soon? It didn’t feel right to leave him there. Even worse to bring over dishes you’d gotten dirty for him to wash in the end. 

“At least let me wash these, Luffy.”

He’d opened his mouth to tell - what? To tell you to go again, most likely but you never actually heard him say it. Right when he was about to speak, Sanji was just there. His hands gently taking the dishes out of yours and walking over to place them beside the sink. 

“How about I do these dishes for you.”

“Why would you do that?”

Sanji glanced away from you for a moment. His eyes focusing in on a memory, maybe. Whatever it was memory or thought, his eyes went into a thousand yard stare. One that was untouchable as the clouds. Finally, he turned to look at you and a touch of a smile was back. 

“Zeff is cantankerous old shit bag but-“

“But he’s your cantankerous old shit bag. I get it.”

And you did. Naan and Zeff had a lot in common, specifically in their not-so-great parenting that wasn’t parenting skills. Even more so in the way they tried to make it seem like any help you tried to give wasn’t going to be good enough. You’d just come to realize that, while at first you’d hated Naan for always telling you it just wasn’t good enough, whatever you did, you realized as you got older it was because she knew you could do better. Would you have preferred a hug? A lighter lesson sharing a cup of hot chocolate? Hell yeah you would’ve but…this was okay too. 

The closed smile Sanji wore cracked a little as you finished his sentence. A smile of realizing someone else understood seemed to make the tension ease from his shoulders just a bit. 

“I’ll wash these up for you and let’s say, in return, you have a drink with me later.” 

He’d remove the dish towel from his shoulders; his right hand tightened inside the fabric as he used it to prop himself up just a little. He was leaning against the counter with that soft, inviting smile still barely showing any teeth. You realized as you considered his offer you liked it better when he was smiling just a little too wide; all the flirting making him happier than he seemed now. 

Fuck you wondered what Zoro would do if he knew what you were about to say? What did it matter anyways? It wasn’t like you belonged to each other or had feelings or…you know…whatever. 

It was your turn to take your head out of the clouds and look back over at Sanji. He wasn’t being pushy. You were sure if you told him no he would be a gentleman about it. So, taking a deep breath you finally gave him your response. 

“A drink would be good.” 

What in the absolute hell’s were you doing? 

In a matter of a millisecond, Sanji brightened up and it made your chastising fall short. It couldn’t be that big of a deal if it made him this happy, it could it? 

“Great. I’ll finish up here and find you at the bar.”

“Alright. I guess I’ll see you in a bit then.”

You replaced your satchel over your shoulder and started to make your way towards the back door. You weren’t even sure where the bar was. Wherever it was you knew a certain Moss-haired swordsman would be there with the others. 

“Good. It’s a date.” 

You whirled around so fast the vertigo almost threatened to topple you over. 

“Ugh, it is not a date.”

“Sounds like a date to me,” Sanji teased, his hand flipping the dish towel back over his shoulder. 

He looked so smug. Why were all the men you were running into either smug, attractive, and a pain in the ass? Well, besides Luffy, that is. He was becoming your sunshine son whether he agreed or not. 

“It sounds like a drink,” you responded. 

Your feet were still carrying you to the back door, but you honestly couldn’t get there fast enough. 

“A drink under the stars and hushed conversation.” 

“To have a hushed conversation you have to be like this close,” using your hands you indicate the amount of space necessary to make that even a remote possibility, “and it’s in a crowded place, which means yelling.” 

“You’re adorable you know when you’re all flushed like that.” 

“Excuse me while I go throw myself overboard.”

“Doc! Make sure Nami or Usopp get you out!” Luffy called after you. “I won’t be able to go in.” 

You weren’t going to tell him it was a figure of speech. He seemed so genuinely concerned that you would just throw yourself off that you kind of didn’t want to ruin the moment. One last glance at Sanji before you left out the back door, and you debated whether you were joking or not. 

You weren’t exactly sure where you were heading, you just knew that there was the sound of music. Music usually meant very few things. Either someone was having a dinner party with music playing in the background, highly unlikely, or you were headed directly for the bar. 

The bar where your crew mates were at. The bar that Zoro was at and the same bar Sanji would come looking for you at later. God, how soon was later? The thought made each new step you took sound more pronounced, louder than the last as you practically dragged yourself into the fish’s mouth. 

It wasn’t an incredibly large space. It was pretty crowded already, and if it wasn’t for its size you would’ve worried you wouldn’t have been able to find them. Luckily for you, Usopp spotted you first and waved you over to the table they’d claimed right at the edge of the fish’s lip. 

While Nami and Zoro were nursing a beer and whiskey, respectfully, Usopp apparently found a punch bowl. By the looks of said punch bowl and the glossy look hollowing out Usopp’s eyes, you knew you were going to need one just as big. 

“Where did you get that fish bowl and do they have more?” You asked, removing your satchel and sitting down next to Nami. 

“Nice of you to finally join us.”

“Oh, it’s so nice to be missed.”

You clutched your hands dramatically to your chest causing Nami to bump into you playfully in response. 

“In all seriousness though, I’m going to need one of those fish bowls. ASAP.”

“I don’t know if you want one, Doc,” Usopp replied before taking another long pull from his straw. “It tastes just like candy. I don’t even think there is any liquor in this.” 

“Pace yourself.” Zoro warned. “Last time I said that I ended up face down underneath a table.” 

You leaned forward, your elbows resting on the small table, as you cupped your chin in your hands. You tried for cute and tried to smile that ended up squished between cheeks and hands. 

“What were you doing under the table?”

“Napping,” he replied curtly. 

“No one chooses to nap under a table in a bar.”

“I’ve napped in the crow’s nest on the Merry a few times.”

Yup. There was definitely liquor in that fishbowl. 

“By the way, if you see Sanji let me know. I inadvertently may have slightly agreed to have a drink with him.” 

“Nami’s boyfriend?”

“Nami’s what?”

“The waiter?!” 

“He is not my boyfriend,” Nami protested a finger up to signify to Usopp to make a point, “and what is happening?”

“He asked after I fixed up Zeff’s - the big angry Chef - leg. I made a little salve for him to help take the pain away when he wore the prosthetic.”

“And somehow that led to you being asked for a drink?”

“I guess?” You shrugged. 

“Man, I gotta try that,” Usopp mumbled as he took another long sip through his straws. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone.” 

Your eyes panned over to Zoro. His arms painfully tight across his chest and his jaw wasn’t faring any better. It looked painful. You wanted to remind him it was possible to get lockjaw just from grinding your teeth into dust. 

“Well, I’m going to go get me a fishbowl.” 

You remove yourself from your newly claimed spot and walk over towards the bar. The bartender himself seemed easy enough, happy to take your money, and even happier to take a tip as he handed over your drink. It was so heavy that you thought it would take you half a decade just to get it back to the table without spilling it. So, the best way to combat spillage was by starting to drink some down. 

Usopp was right. They did taste exactly like candy.

When you arrived back at the table, it was noticeably more quiet. Nami’s eyes focused on her now empty glass that she swirled around in her hand. Zoro wasn’t looking at you, as per usual, as if you’d done something wrong and Usopp was busy finishing off his drink. You weren’t sure how to inject yourself back into a conversation that had grown stagnant. You weren’t born with the ease of conversation; not like Nami who always seemed to know what to do. When to smile and the right words to make someone open up. You’d only take a couple of sips of your drink when Zoro’s gruff voice sliced into the silence. 

“What are you holding onto that is so heavy?” 

He took a drink from his own glass as he waited for Nami to speak. To lift her head up or show any signs that she’d heard him. 

“You guys seriously don’t think what Luffy did was messed up?”

You weren’t following. You were too busy taking another drink, eyes darting between the two of them. You felt silly. Obviously, whatever was bothering Nami wasn’t a secret. It wasn’t something she was holding close to ruin you all later, but whatever it was that weighed on her she felt Luffy had done something detrimental. Almost. 

Zoro regarded her evenly before he set his glass back down on his thigh. His gaze looked away from her as he replied, “Yeah. He should’ve told us. But if you haven’t noticed we’ve been making enemies everywhere we go. Psycho clowns, killer butlers: what are the Marines going to do?” 

 “You don’t understand. I can’t get caught not when I’m so close-“

Nami looked ready to break. The tears of panic that edged at the corners of her eyes made all the earlier playfulness disappear. The sharpness of words you threatened to say to defend Luffy losing their edge as you watched her stare into her glass like it would be able to give her all the answers. To tell her it would all be okay. 

Zoro looked between you and Usopp, who was doing his best to not be a part of this particular conversation. His lips wrapped around the straws buried deep in his drink and refused to let go. 

Men. 

You were about to reach out to her, to ask her if she was okay, really okay, not just the kind you pretend to be through words when a mask of a smile was back on her face. She set down her glass and gave a quick glance around the table before clapping her hands down on her bare legs and lifting up out of her seat. 

“Who wants a drink? It’s on me.”

“That’s my favorite kind.”

“Of course it is.”

You ignored Zoro’s stare as Nami removed herself from the booth - from all of you. She was more than halfway to the bar when you reached over and smacked Zoro’s shoulder. He looked surprised for all of a second before he looked from his shoulder and back to you. 

“‘That’s my favorite kind.’” You mimicked. “God, who says that?”

“Someone who likes free drinks?” Usopp offered up. 

“You are both -“

“Impossible. We know.”

Shaking your head, you shimmied out of the booth and started making your way through the groups of people. You could barely see Nami up ahead with an older gentleman speaking to her. A spindle of curiosity began to weave its way inside your belly and filled your head with questions. He didn’t seem to be flirting with her or trying. No, they seemed to be discussing business. 

“Nami.”

You spoke her name lightly the way you would an animal that was skittish. The hand you’d reached out to tap her shoulder falling short as she turned halfway to face you. 

“Hey, Doc, what are you doing?”

“I came to check on you.”

Nami pulled a face, her shoulders shrugging just enough to brush off your words. 

“I promise you, I’m just fine. I don’t need a check-up or anything like that.”

The bartender chose at that moment to set down a bottle of rum and four shot glasses, which Nami grabbed immediately. She thanked him with a smile and turned to head back to the table forcing you to practically run after her. 

“Nami- Nami, wait!”

“What do you want?!”

The anger of her words forced you to take a step back. Your hands raised just to let her know you meant her no harm. 

“Do you remember when I told you that you had a friend in Syrup village?”

“What about it?”

“While I didn’t stay in the village, I’m still your friend and while I may not be able to protect you like Zoro, or be full of sunshine and stretchy like Luffy, or hell, be as sharp as Usopp with a slingshot I’m still here for you. Does that make sense?”

“I think?”

“I Just- okay look I’m not good at this either. My only friend I had was Usopp and I’m not sure how to say this but if you need to talk or if anything is bothering you, you can tell me. I’m not going to judge you or you know…”

It all felt like it was going good in your head and then you breathed, started talking, and for some reason panicked. Bless Nami for finding it all vaguely amusing, from what you could tell, because the smile that graced her lips was the one you’d come to expect. Bright and full of the youth sometimes you feel like she’d missed. 

“Why do you get so awkward at the end of long speeches?” 

Her words were light and airy; full of the laughter that flowed through each one. You allowed her go wrap her arm around your shoulders as you both moved back to the table. Your own laughter threatening to burst at any minute. 

“I don’t get awkward.”

You could hear the eye roll she gave as you both began to release one another. You wouldn’t fit in the booth this way if you didn’t. 

“Every time. Without fail. You start off so strong.”

“I just get nervous that I’m not making any sense, especially when you’re saying things that matter.”

“What you said back there matters?”

She’d placed the rum and glasses down on the table. Usopp’s fishbowl long since emptied and Zoro was moving towards the bottle at Lightning speed, as if he couldn’t wait to meet oblivion. Before Nami disappeared back into the booth you gently grabbed her hand to stop her making sure she faced you completely before you spoke low enough for only her to hear. 

“It matters because you matter to me, Nami. All jokes aside, just don’t forget I’m here for you.”

Her eyes pricked with the edge of tears but she quickly nodded and turned away from you. The only proof you’d gotten she heard you was the soft squeeze of her hand in yours just before she let you go. 

“God, I don’t know which one of them is worse. Can that even be classified as dancing?”

Nami’s soft laughter filtered over to him and Zoro couldn’t help but respond with a smile. At some point, you’d dived head first into too many of the giant fishbowls, deciding not to heed his warning, and come out the other side completely and utterly shit faced. So, when Usopp asked you to join him out on the dance floor, you didn't hesitate. For the last hour, Zoro wished there was a camera around just to hold this moment hostage from time. 

He watched as you did moves he was willing to bet, if you were sober, would flush your cheeks in the rosy hue he’d found himself becoming obsessed with ever since he’d placed that snowdrop behind your ear. Another moment that time had taken he’d hoped to have burned into his memory. The way you’d looked up at him shifted something inside him, and Zoro wasn’t sure if he could ever get it back, or if he even cared it was gone. 

You were in the middle of your next move - one arm behind your head while the other was close to your side. Your shoulder rotating in strange circles as your body bounced off beat. Usopp had gone back to doing a shuffle beside you that broke you out of your dance and into his. 

Zoro could feel a smile threatening to burst its way on to his lips. Quickly, he brought his beer up and took a long pull from the glass. 

“You’re different with her.” Every word was punctuated. Slow. As if Nami was afraid saying it too fast would spook him. 

He took the glass from his lips and set it back on his thigh. His hand still wrapped around the cool mug as he finally regarded Nami. 

“I’m not different with anybody.”

“Well, that’s not true. You’re different with Luffy; with us. I’m betting you don’t look at us the way you look at her, though.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It’s nothing. 

God, he wanted it to be true. Even now, however, he could feel his neck straining to stay facing Nami’s direction. He wanted to look back and see what you were doing. To make sure you were safe. 

And that waiter hadn’t magically appeared.

Nami must have known he was lying. She may have been a thief, but Zoro had come to realize her bullshit calling meter was the best he’d ever seen. She regarded him coolly with her brows raised in mock shock. 

“I have eyes, Zoro. Unless you’re looking at me the same way when I’m not looking - it’s different.”

If he played it cool, kept his face free of emotion, and didn’t react he could still call her a liar. It was a solid plan that would’ve worked if his jaw hadn’t ticked in annoyance. Zoro wasn’t annoyed with Nami. He was annoyed at himself for being caught wanting something -someone - besides his goal. 

He looked down into the safety of the amber liquid in his glass. Unsure of what - how - to begin to deny you hadn’t snuck in and taken a piece of him and called it yours. Luckily, he didn’t have to. 

“Look,” Nami sighed. “I know you’ve got your own thing going on. Who doesn’t.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a but coming,” he grumbled.

“But it’s okay to still want other things too.”

Zoro allowed himself to look up from the safety of the glass and willed himself to appear emotionless as he considered her. His mind was still mulling over her words and what Nami could possibly be trying to get at. 

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like her.” 

No. 

In a flash, Zoro could see how simple it would be to have you. His imagination ran in a million directions, in a trillion scenarios of a life that held a path for you to walk with him. He almost gave in and allowed the warmth of the idea of touching you, knowing you, to consume him until a clash of swords resonated in his mind. 

As fast as it was created, it was destroyed. He found himself back in the woods standing in front of Kuina, so full of fire and life. The determination lit a fire in her eyes until he could’ve sworn he’d be consumed. 

“Until one of us is the greatest swordsman who ever lived.” 

It was his goal then just like she had been his goal - and it had remained his goal even now. Zoro couldn’t allow himself to lose sight of that. It was his dream to be the world’s greatest swordsman, but it had also been hers. 

Kuina. 

Zoro could still see her there waiting for him. Dead and dried leaves crunching under her feet as she waited for him to meet her in the clearing, her eyes brimming with challenge. 

Zoro could almost feel his muscles taut and ready to go to her. His thumb playing at the hilt of his sword, to pull it out in one smooth motion and come forward those last few feet in a class of steel. He could feel his feet moving and the sound of the leaves crunching under his weight. He was almost to her when the sound of laughter floating through the breeze like a wind chime forced him to stop. He didn’t know who or what it was, or why his first thought was you, but when he turned to glance behind him he felt his heart stop.

He was suddenly standing back in the lavender fields at Irkhaven. Zoro’s eyes scanned around until you were there, like Kuina, standing just out of reach. You were surrounded by a sea of purple and sunlight that only seemed to brighten as you smiled in his direction. It was the smile that warmed him down to his bones and made his chest ache for once with something other than sadness and guilt. Zoro wouldn’t dare think it - risk saying it - in case this was some kind of spell. 

You spoke his name - beckoning him to follow you - just like Kuina. Underneath all of your softness you held your own fire, your own determination, that made you appear wild. The wind whipping at your hair and turning you ethereal amongst all the life that you held within your eyes. 

Zoro could feel himself stuck between the place where he began and the place where he was going. Where you were waiting with Luffy, Usopp, and Nami. A place he never imagined his life would take him and yet…

The sound of Nami almost shouting his name shook him out of his thoughts and the sound of cracking glass filtered through moments later. He could feel the glass in his hand fracturing; dangerously close to collapsing inward if he squeezed harder. He set the weeping glass down and spared a glance to Nami as he removed himself from the seat.

“Hey, Zoro, are you okay?”

He hated how he could see the concern was etched into every crease of her features. The way she pretended to care. He made sure his hand was secured on the Wado Ichimonji before he stood to his full height. His eyes glancing over at you and Usopp now entrenched in a dance battle. 

Suddenly, being inside the mouth of a fish made him feel like he was being swallowed whole. He couldn’t be near you - couldn’t risk confessing in the heat of a drunken moment that you had consumed him, mind and soul, and he wasn’t sure if he cared. 

“I gotta go back to the Merry. Forgot something.”

“Forgot what? Zoro? Zoro!”

He didn’t look behind him to see what Nami was doing. Their earlier game of “guess my trauma,” officially over as he rushed towards the next dock. The pounding of his heart reminding him of the dangers of caring; of allowing yourself to get wrapped up in other people. 

To this day, Zoro could still feel the ice that pierced his heart when he was told Kuina was gone. The way the world seemed to shift into madness and somehow remain the same. It was his mind that could no longer make sense of a world where she no longer resided. Zoro would’ve gone to the gates of hell to get her back if he could and with the searing vision of your smile, head whipped back in joy, Zoro felt that same exact emotion he’d felt over seven years ago. 

He would tear the world apart to keep you in it and that was a confession he couldn’t afford to say. 

For the last hour Zoro had been able to sit in the stillness of the ship and enjoy the silence. The only intrusive sound was that of things moving below the water and the of the wet stone sliding across the Wado Ichimonji. 

It’d taken him longer than he’d ever admit to collect himself. His meditation hadn’t been able to clear his mind the way it usually did, and it wasn’t until he’d begun to take care of Kuina’s blade that his thoughts had ceased.

Of course, all good things were meant to come crashing down. 

“How long do you think you’re going to hide out here and pout?”

Zoro’s wrist stopped mid-motion down the sword. His eyes unable to tear away from the moonlight gleaming on the blade just in case looking at you sent him reeling over the edge again. 

Being alone with you on the Merry was about the worst thing that could happen to him. At least at the bar he would have continued to play twenty questions with Nami and been surrounded by plenty of sound to help drown out whatever was going on with him. 

You aren’t focused. 

But he was, wasn’t he? In the last seven years, Zoro had devoted himself to his training. To become stronger. Faster. The only swordsman to use three swords and earn the name of The Demon. With every waking hour Zoro was closer to becoming who he - who she - dreamed of being. 

The sound of your footsteps drawing closer almost made him delirious. His hand tightening down on the wet stone before he set it down beside him. His eyes turned out to look once more into the endless midnight in front of him. 

“Who says I’m hiding?”

His voice sounded rough, like it hadn’t been used in months. He picked up the rum he’d taken from his room and took a swig to clear his throat and his senses. By the time he finished taking his drink, you were standing beside where he sat on the crate. Your arms wrapped around your middle with your hip cocked looking like you were ready to give him hell. 

I am hiding. 

It was the only clear thought he had as his eyes adjusted to your presence. Your eyes were glassy from the alcohol even though you were trying to make it seem like you were sober, he guessed. But Zoro could tell you were tipsy with the way you swayed along with each push of the ocean’s wave against the ship. 

He and Nami were going to have a talk about dressing you next time. Every part of you felt exposed to him and yet, it wasn’t enough. It was all just a game, teasing him constantly no matter what angle he looked at it. What was even worse was how the moon highlighted you in light and half in shadow. 

“I say you are and we both know I’m usually right.”

A sly smile slid across his lips before he could stop it. His eyes transfixed while you took the finishing steps until you stood before him. With your arms back down at your side you felt more open to him, vulnerable somehow. It was the look in your eyes that told him why. 

Maybe he wasn’t just imagining it too but what did it prove? You were both idiots on a sinking ship. Looking up at you now, the way you shamelessly devoured every inch the moonlight provided your eyes he knew you’d both happily drown. 

“Is that so?”

“It’s the new unwritten rule on the ship.”

“Guess I’m going to have to have a talk with Luffy about that.”

“He’s still in the kitchen finishing up dishes if you want to be a good first mate and help him.”

“I should go help him.”

“The waiters in there with him, though.” 

“He doesn’t need my help that bad.” 

Zoro wasn’t sure what it was that made your head fall back the way it did. What it was that caused you to laugh the way you did with your hand covering your mouth as if it was enough to silence it. He didn’t know what he did, but he swore he would do it again just to see you like this. 

“Is that why you are hiding out on the ship? Afraid of some competition?”

You went to sit down next to him and his hand reached out to grab you by your hip to stop you. It was meant to be a gesture to get you to stop. Instead, his hand slid under the fabric of the corset and he could hear the audible sharp whistle as you sucked in a breath. He wondered if you would let him keep it there, if you’d let him pull you closer until you were perfectly positioned between his legs.

As fast as his hand and touched you it retreated and it was his turn to stand. 

“Let’s cut the chit chat. I have something better in mind.

“You seriously think now is a good time to train?”

You couldn’t believe it. Your brain was still a mess from seconds ago when his hand somehow found its way under your clothes. The way he’d looked up at you, you half expected him to pull you closer. The hunger that flashed in obsidian eyes was enough to make you think you were about to find out just how plush his lips might actually be. 

As fast as it happened it ended and the disappointment was raw in your chest. Zoro, on the other hand, looked right at home. 

“Why not? Did you have something else in mind?”

Yes. 

“No,” you grumbled. 

You were most definitely not pouting.

“Good. First, you have to fix your stance.” 

“Okay, how should I be-“

A scream of shock left you as you nearly jumped out of your skin. You turned just in time to see him slide the handle of a sword back inside the sheath. The same one that he’d used mere seconds ago to smack against your bare thigh. 

“Did you just spank me with your sword?”

God, he looked too pleased with himself. 

“I could do it again, if you like.” 

You could feel your mouth opening and closing. You didn’t know what to say. Yes, please do? That felt too desperate and yelling at him would do nothing but prove you did like it in some weird way. 

Shit. Your cheeks were burning. 

“How about we just direct me, verbally, like a normal sensei would do.” 

“You could also call me master, instead of sensei, if you like.” 

Zoro had stepped close to you - close enough if you leaned back just an inch you would be against him. His words were dripped heavily with teasing, but the way the husk of his tone whispered along your skin like a caress threatened to make your knees buckle. 

This was supposed to be training for god sake. Clearing your throat, you dared to lean your head back just enough it rested on his chest. Your eyes batting up at him as you replied, “Or I can just call you an asshole.”  

A heavy sigh blew through his nose as he stepped away from you, almost sending you falling on your ass. 

“Do you even have a weapon?” 

“There are pots in the kitchen,” you deadpanned. 

Zoro looked at you like he would throw you over the side of the ship at any minute. 

“I mean a real weapon.”

“My knife is in my satchel.”

You both stood there staring at one another. You weren’t sure what he was expecting you to do. If you were just magically supposed to make your satchel appear or leave to go get it. Zoro wasn’t saying much. He was just standing there one hand on his sword and a thumb tucked into his sash. 

“Are you going to keep staring at me all night or are you going to go get it?” 

Whatever tension that had been brimming between you, unspoken words, or anything else was instantly gone. All of it exploded by his usual rigid posture and dead-eye stare that only moments ago made you believe that maybe, just maybe, your drunken mind wasn’t as delusional as you thought. 

“When I come back you better be ready to get your ass kicked,” you seethed. 

You went to turn on your booted heel when a strong wave rocked the ship and almost sent you toppling forward. You’d braced yourself for impact; your knees colliding once again with the wood or possible scraps to your hands and bare legs. 

Instead, your back collided with a warm body with a forearm locked around your middle keeping you impossibly tight against them. The scent of sandalwood and skin melded together flooding your scenes until your brain was in overload. 

You looked back and found his face mere inches from yours. So close you could feel the heat of his breath along your jaw tempting you to close those last few inches. For a brief moment you thought you’d unlocked some new form of drunken bravery inside of you, but all of it came crashing down when Zoro let go and stepped away. 

“Maybe I should walk back with you. You don’t seem like you’re able to walk.” 

“Okay.”

You didn’t know what else to say. Should you tell him to come close again? Should you tell him that while he was equally the most infuriating human on the planet you somehow couldn’t imagine a space where he wasn’t in it?

How could knowing someone for only a short while turn into…this. 

You knew you wouldn’t say any of it. Not even enough liquor in the world could get you to tell Roronoa Zoro, The Demon, that you had a crush on him just as deadly as he was. 

So, you turned on your heel and headed back towards the giant mouth of the fish. The steady sounds of Zoro’s heavy footsteps right behind you until you finally made it back into the bar. You’d only gotten a few steps to the table when you realized something was wrong. A man in a trench coat and large hat with a feather was standing in front of Nami and Usopp. They didn’t appear frightened but…why was he there?

“Oh, hey guys! This is my new best friend-“ Usopp stated. 

Nami softly smacked him on his chest as she cut in, “This is not our friend.” 

The man in question turned to stare at Zoro and you. His eyes sunflower yellow with swirls like a bullseye within making you almost take a step back from him. You bummed back into Zoro and this time when you looked at him he no longer looked unreadable. He was looking at this man like he was a godsend - a dream come true in the form of curled mustaches and oversized feathers. 

“You’re Dracule Mihawk.” 

“I have business with your captain. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll hand him over.”

“Well, we don’t know anyone named Luffy, do we guys? Zoro?” 

You’d been so enamored by Mihawk’s  appearance you hadn’t realized Zoro had moved around you. His eyes still fastened to him as he moved around to face him. 

“I’ve been following your career since I was a child. It’s an honor to finally meet you, sir.”

“Thank you.” 

Mihawk looked bored out of his skull. 

“Which is why it pains me to inform you that tomorrow you’re going to die.”

“Wait, what?”

“What the actual fuck…” 

Your words came out as an uttered whisper. You were too shell shocked to say more - do more. It felt like you were watching this whole interaction through the lense of a telescope on a distant island where idiots roamed free. 

“I, Roronoa Zoro, challenge you to a duel to the death.”

“What the actual fuck! Zoro!”

This time you were loud. Much louder than you wanted with every syllable ringing out your panic like a dinner bell. 

“I’ve never heard of you.” 

“They call me the Demon Pirate Hunter. But my lifelong dream is to best you in single combat and become the greatest swordsman in the world.” 

“You’re serious.”

“Accept my challenge and I’ll show you how serious I am.”

“Very well. Tomorrow at dawn and when I’m done with you Pirate Hunter I’ll take your captain.” 

No. No. No - “No.”

Your head was still ringing out with the word. Unable to comprehend what in the actual hell had just happened. You’d come back to get your small cutting knife. He was supposed to be training you right now back on the deck of the Merry. This was wrong. All wrong. 

Nami leaned forward from her seat. Her own worry was bleeding into her eyes, her voice, as she asked, “What in the hell did you just do?”

You were still trying to figure that out when Zoro turned and walked away leaving dread the size of a crater to worm its way inside your chest. 

As always, thank you all so much for reading. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

____________

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[agirlnamedelia]

Maze of Realization || Bakugou x Reader

The doors to the training facility slammed shut behind you, locking you and Bakugou inside the maze. The air was tense, thick with the weight of the mission ahead. The goal was simple: navigate the maze and avoid the traps. But knowing U.A., "simple" was never really simple.

Bakugou cracked his knuckles, his eyes scanning the maze’s twisting corridors. “Stay close,” he ordered, his voice sharp and demanding. “We don’t have time to waste.”

You nodded, not bothering to argue with his tone. This was Bakugou, after all. He was always intense, always driven. But you noticed something different this time—there was an edge to his voice, something more than just the usual determination.

The two of you started moving, Bakugou leading the way with you close behind. The first few traps were nothing too challenging—pressure plates that triggered darts, false walls that fell away into pits. Bakugou destroyed or evaded them with ease, his explosions lighting up the dark corridors as you both advanced.

“Watch it!” Bakugou barked as a set of spikes shot out from the wall, narrowly missing you. His hand instinctively shot out, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of harm’s way. “Damn it, keep your head in the game!”

“I’m fine,” you assured him, brushing off his grip. But you couldn’t ignore the way his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than usual before he turned back to the maze.

As you continued, the traps became more complex, more deadly. Walls closed in, floors gave way, and beams of energy swept through the corridors. Bakugou’s usual cocky confidence didn’t waver, but his focus on you intensified. Every time you dodged a trap, his eyes flicked to you, making sure you were okay before he continued.

Finally, the maze narrowed into a long, dark hallway. You could sense the tension in the air, like something big was waiting just ahead. Bakugou paused, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the path forward.

“This feels like a setup,” he muttered.

You swallowed, feeling the same unease. “We have to keep moving.”

Bakugou nodded, and the two of you pushed forward. Just as you reached the halfway point, the ground beneath you gave way. You barely had time to react as the floor crumbled, revealing a pit of sharp, jagged spikes below. You managed to grab onto the ledge, your fingers slipping as you struggled to hold on.

“Shit!” Bakugou’s voice was laced with panic as he dove for you. He grabbed your wrist, his grip tight and unyielding. “Hang on, I’ve got you!”

But the ledge was crumbling under his weight too. You could see the strain in his eyes as he tried to pull you up, the realization that he might not be able to hitting him hard.

“Let go!” you urged him, fear seeping into your voice. “You’re going to fall too!”

“Like hell I’m letting go!” Bakugou snapped, his voice cracking with emotion you’d never heard from him before. With a final, desperate burst of strength, he yanked you up, pulling you into his arms as you both fell back onto solid ground. He held you tight against his chest, his breath ragged and shaky.

You looked up at him, stunned by how close you’d come to serious harm. His eyes were wild, filled with a mix of relief and something else—something deeper.

“Bakugou… I—”

“Shut up,” he growled, his arms still wrapped around you. “Just… shut up for a second.”

You blinked, taken aback by his tone. But you stayed quiet, feeling his heart pounding against your own as he held you. After a long moment, he finally spoke again, his voice low and rough.

“Damn it, I can’t focus when you’re in danger like that,” he admitted, his grip tightening as if he was afraid to let you go. “It’s more than just the mission… more than just us being a team.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what he was saying. “Bakugou, you…”

“Yeah, I care about you, alright?” he snapped, his usual bravado faltering as his cheeks flushed slightly. “More than I should. More than I know what to do with.”

You stared at him, your heart swelling with emotions you hadn’t even fully understood yourself until now. “I care about you too,” you whispered, your voice soft but sure.

Bakugou’s eyes softened, just for a moment, before his usual scowl returned. “Good. Then you’d better not do anything stupid like that again.”

You couldn’t help but smile, even as the seriousness of the situation lingered. “I’ll do my best.”

“Damn right you will,” he muttered, finally letting go of you and standing up, though his hand lingered on your arm for a moment longer. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

With renewed determination, the two of you continued through the maze, but now, there was something different between you—something unspoken yet undeniable. Bakugou might still be brash, still be intense, but now you knew that behind all of that, there was a fierce, protective love that he couldn’t hide any longer.

[ash5monster01]

hii!! could you write something for charlie dalton and an insecure reader (they are already dating)? ive been feeling kind of ugly lately😭😭 tysm

I’m so sorry this has taken me so long, I hope everything has been going okay. Insecurities can really suck sometimes, but we just have to remember we’re all beautiful in our own way <3

Perfectly Me

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, self doubt, insecurities, anxiety

Summary: Dating cool and confident Charlie is proven to be hard when most of the time you’re insecure about everything about yourself.

word count: 1.1k

Masterlist

Charlie had always been Charlie. You weren’t entirely sure where he got it from. Somehow after all these years in boarding school he had found a confidence that set him apart from the others. You had never met anyone else that had lived life with their chin so high and smile so wide. He was confident, fun, popular, and you felt everything but. When he had chosen you it was shocking. How could daring and brave Charlie seek out the only girl that kept her head ducked and mouth shut. Yet somehow he did and everyday since you had been questioning why.

Especially on days like today. Days where Charlie’s laugh bellowed loudly through the lunch room as you sat quiet as a mouse beside him. Girls looked on with adoring looks and boys laughed after every sentence that left his mouth. His presence was large, everyone saw him, everyone liked him. It was so intense that as you sat beside the boy you loved you felt more invisible then ever, especially to him. He didn’t see you, there is no way he could have. You were nothing but an inanimate object beside him and you had only ended up in this position from a cruel trick of fate. Not only were you now invisible but humiliated because you couldn’t compare to him. You never could.

When the bell sounds you’re the first out the door. You didn’t want to wait and see if Charlie even acknowledged you, it would hurt too much if he didn’t. You barely went noticed as you left anyway so it would be no surprise if he didn’t notice either. But he did. His proud look turning into one of confusion as he spotted your form rushing away. He had wanted to kiss you, stare into your pretty eyes for a moment longer, but you were gone in the blink of an eye. He wondered why, it almost feeling like you were trying to escape him. This very thought plagued him the rest of the day as he awaited a moment to see you again.

Once classes were over it took him forever to find you. He felt like he had turned Welton upside down in search of you until he finally found you curled up on a window seat in the library. Your eyes were cast downward at the book in your hands, your forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window where you sat. You were so beautiful and his heart yearned deeply for you in that very moment. He wished you didn’t feel so far away. He just wanted you two to be okay. As much as he talked about always having a girlfriend he never thought he’d be lucky enough to have one, especially you.

“Found you” you jump slightly at the sound of his husky voice. He’s lifting your feet and sliding beside you before you can react. He doesn’t make any notion that the window is cold against his back as he finally looks at you.

“I wasn’t hiding” you finally say, a bit nervous in his presence which you hated.

“Felt like it” the sad way he drops his gaze from you makes your heart clench. You hadn’t meant to hurt him but he had unintentionally been hurting you.

“I know” you whisper and Charlie looks up to see the sad expression you wear, one that matched his own.

“Can you tell me why?” he asks and you notice how small he seems here. He isn’t loud and proud Charlie, he’s your boyfriend who’s afraid you’re going to say something that hurts him and even worse you know what you have to say is going too.

“I don’t know why you’re with me Charlie” you say, officially closing your book and giving him your full attention.

“What do you mean?” he asks and you bring your hands to your face, sighing into them before looking up again.

“I’m not like you Charlie. You’re good looking, popular, outgoing. I’m just not” you say, exasperated and tired of not only being insecure about everything else in your life but about this too.

“Yes you are!” and this has you chuckling dryly, so tired of being lied to.

“No Charlie, I know it, you know it, and the rest of these imbeciles do too” you say, arms crossing over you chest and Charlie sighs as he presses a hand to his forehead.

“You are to me” he says calmly and you feel your heart rate accelerate at the confession. Charlie dares a glance at you to see your face flooded with sadness and confusion. He had never meant to make you feel small. “You’re the only girl for me. Maybe you’re not all that outgoing but that’s okay. I need someone who is going to bring me down to earth. I wanted to kiss my girlfriend today before she left after lunch and instead I watched her run away from me. I don’t try to make you feel worthless, I’m just so used to being loud and bold to hide the fact that I’m terrified my life won’t turn out the way I want it to. The only thing I’m sure of is you”

“Is that true?” you ask and Charlie chuckles even though none of this conversation is meant to be funny.

“It’s the most true thing I’ve said all week” he tells you and finally you take a good look at your doe eyed boyfriend. His floppy brown hair hangs in his eyes and the crooked smile on his face is still only ever directed at you. He loves you the way you love him, for all the things neither of you are. So you scoot forward and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry I assumed the worst of you” you tell him and he gives you a tight lipped smile that you happily lean forward and kiss.

“I’m sorry I expected too much of you” Charlie apologizes in return and you smile before locking your lips with his own again. Pulling yourself closer to him your book slides from your lap and lands with a loud thud that has you both giggling quietly in the back corner of the library. Charlie doesn’t care about the attention it might’ve brought and kisses you good and hard again.

The best thing about Charlie is no matter how insecure you are, at least he will always be there for you. You balanced each other out and balance was the most important key to life. Balance love, balance work and art, and you shall be free.

[hyperactively-me]

king!ghost x reader -- learning, growing

A few days have passed since Simon almost kissed you. 

With him, around him, you felt more comfortable, more at ease. It wasn’t easy getting to this point with him, but spending time with him has strengthened you in ways you could have never imagined. 

The palace, once a place of hostility and responsibility, began to feel like a true home filled with kindness and understanding. Time spent together was precious, and you cherished each moment of vulnerability. The late-night conversations and the quiet, whispered laughter in the corridors all contributed to the connection you had forged.

Simon's loyalty and strength became even more apparent as you got to know him. He was a king who would move heaven and earth to protect his people, especially his friends, and he was also a man who would move mountains for you. He made you feel cherished and secure, and your affection for him deepened with each passing day.

One evening, while you were curled up on the couch, Simon spoke candidly about his past. “I've always been so focused on my duty as a king that I never really had the chance to explore my own interests or hobbies. But since you came into my life, I’ve noticed the way you do all of these things, and I admire you for that.”

Your eyes twinkled with happiness as you listened intently. “Aw, really? Lil ole me?"

He smiled, his eyes reflecting a genuine enthusiasm. “Well, for one, I've developed a newfound love for books. I’m always lookin’ over your shoulder when you read, y’know.”

You couldn't help but grin at his admission, your eyes lighting up. “Aww, I’m glad that you think so, Simon.” 

Simon nods. “And I've realized that there's so much more I want to explore. I know there has to be something out there for me.” 

Your heart swelled with pride at his willingness to embrace new experiences. “I think that's wonderful, Simon. You should explore whatever makes you happy."

He also asked questions about your own interests and hobbies, wanting to understand you. You shared your love for gardening with him, and soon, you both started tending to a small garden in the palace courtyard. He was definitely hesitant at first, never really confident in his abilities in the garden, but over time, you taught him how to nurture the plants. Simon's dedication, his strong hands carefully tending to each flower and shrub, was something you’d never thought you’d see. It was so sweet seeing him try something new just because you liked it. 

A few days have passed since your little moment on the couch before he was pulled away from  you because of his responsibilities as king. It was after dinner, the sun was setting, and you wanted to watch the sunset. 

Hand in hand, you made your way through the dimly lit corridors, your heart fluttering as he pushed open a balcony door for you. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, the sun casting a golden shimmer across the landscape. You stepped onto the balcony, the cool breeze tousling your hair, and the soft rustling of leaves in the palace gardens creating a soothing ambiance.

Simon stands next to you, his presence comforting. With his arm around your waist, he pulls you closer, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

“I—,” he starts, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the delicate peace of the evening.

You nestle against him, feeling the warmth of his body, and the reassuring beat of his heart. “What?” you question softly. 

“I can’t get enough of you,” he whispers, his voice husky with emotion. 

You smiled, feeling the same overpowering attraction. “Nor can I,” you admitted, your hands coming to wrap around his waist.

“No, I mean it. You…there’s no words to describe how much you’ve grown to mean to me,” he trails off. He pulls you into his chest, hands coming down to rest on your waist. 

Simon's thumb gently caressed your cheek as he looked at you, his eyes filled with longing. “Every moment with you, I just feel…fulfilled,” he murmured.

“Simon—"

“No, don’t say anything, just— let me…” he leans in, lowering his head down, mere centimeters from your face. Your heart races in your chest, threatening to sprint right out.

"Kiss me," you nearly beg, gripping onto him tightly.

And with a small breath, he captures your lips in a searing kiss.

His arms envelope you in a tight, secure embrace, pulling you right up against him, and you melt into his touch. You grab onto his shirt, bunching the fabric as you push up on your toes to reach him easier. The world outside seemed to disappear as you explore each other's mouths, savoring the taste with every kiss you give him. 

He groans slightly as your arms come up around his neck, tugging gently at the hair on the nape of his neck. He squeezes the flesh of your waist as he presses into you. Suddenly, he flips you, pressing you against the bar of the balcony, kissing you like a man starved. He cups the back of your head, one arm secure around your waist to make sure you don’t fall. He would never let go of you, never let you fall, and you know it. Your mouth tastes so good, feels like velvet, like everything and more he imagined it to be. He pulls away for a moment, his breath hot as he lets out small pants. He licks his swollen lips, eyes not parting from yours. 

“Simon–”

He groans, then pushes his face into your neck.

“Darlin’, if you say my name one more time, I’m not going to be able to hold myself back,” he mumbles into your skin, breathing in your scent.

You still as he speaks, hands coming up to scratch his back gently. You had never gone this far with a man, no, not even back at home. This was something you had never experienced before, something that meant more than just a simple kiss. Something more. 

“Okay,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. 

He kisses your neck, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. He pulls away suddenly, his hands still locked around your frame.

“Was it too much?” he asks, stroking his thumb against you over your clothes.

“No, no, it’s just, I’ve never– I’ve never done this before,” you say softly. “But, I’m glad it was with you. It couldn’t have been more perfect,” you say, stroking the contours of his face.

You speak gently, knowing what he was insinuating with his words. “Do you want to…?”

“No, no, not like this, not now” he says quickly. “You deserve better than something quick. You deserve to be treated with respect.” 

You nod slowly, warmth creeping up your cheeks.

“And I thank you for respecting me all this time,” you say, smiling softly at him. “But, right now, I want to do this. With you. And only with you.”

His heart rate picks up as he takes in your words. The moment he’s been waiting for. For your permission. For your yes.

He would show you what you deserve.

- - - - -

(masterlist)