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strangersteddierthings · 1 year

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Porcelain Steve - Part 7

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

((TW for this part; period typical slurs and internalized homophobia. Read the tags before clicking readmore if you want the details))

Steve has been a porcelain doll for seven weeks when disaster strikes.

"What is that," Jeff says, because even though the words are in an order which would suggest that it's a question, the tone of voice Jeff uses decidedly is not questioning.

"What is whaaa-AH! Nothing! It's nothing!" Eddie, who was torso deep into his closet throwing things around to find his backup amp cord, turns to look at what Jeff was talking about, and is now launching himself across his room to stand between Jeff and Porcelain Steve. Porcelain Steve, who Eddie had lain on his bed, propped slightly on a pillow, headphones carefully perched on his little head, hooked to a cassette player currently playing the first hour of last week's Top 40 countdown that Eddie had taped for him (all three hours of it, leaving out the chatter of the radio show host. He'd had to use two tapes to get it all).

"Nothing sure looks a lot like a doll in headphones, Munson," Jeff has an amazing poker face but Eddie's certain he can see a bit of judgement underneath the carefully blank expression Jeff is wearing.

"I don't know what you're talking abo- hey! Hey, no, no, don't!" Eddie tries to bodily block Jeff when he moves forward and the two end up wrestling, a match that Eddie almost wins, if not for the hazard that is his messy room. He gets Jeff walked almost to the door before he steps wrong on something, ankle rolling and sending him down sideways. He clutches at Jeff but can't make purchase and Jeff, the bastard, does fuck-all to try and catch him. Instead, Jeff leaps out of arm's length, then lunges onto the bed as Eddie collapses to his floor.

Eddie frantically tries to stand and, in his haste, ends up with his feet tangled in a pile of dirty laundry and that sends him crashing down again, this time forward onto his hands and knees, so he gives up on standing and crawls the few short feet to the bed, finally looking up to see that the damage has been done.

Jeff has picked up Steve, holding him inches from his own face, eyes squinted in suspicion. Eddie is frozen, horrified and afraid, and can't bring himself to do anything as Jeff examines Steve closely, turning him around, poking his torso, flipping him upside down to examine his shoes more thoroughly. It's only when Jeff reached for the shirt, pinching the hem of it between two fingers that Eddie kicks back into action.

He lunges up, one knee on the bed, leaning over to grab Steve and yank him from Jeff's grip. His first instinct is to throw Steve over his shoulder, out of sight out of mind mentality, but as soon as he does, he realizes his mistake and twists, lunging to catch Steve in midair. He does manage to catch Steve, but it sends him bouncing off his dresser and almost back to the floor before he manager to regain his balance, where he proceeds to cradle Steve to his chest, which is heaving from the adrenaline, wrestling match, and subsequent dive after Steve.

Jeff is giving him a concerned look but something else piques his interest; Jeff reaches over and picks up the headphones, holding them up to one ear. His face goes through every emotion a human could possibly experience in less than fifteen seconds as he listens to whatever track was at the forty-ish minute mark on the Top 40 countdown.

Slowly, Jeff lowers the headphones, letting them drop to the bed before he gives Eddie a new, more judgmental, yet infinitely more concerned, look. "Eddie. What. The fuck."

Honestly, he's not sure there's anything he can say in response.

"Why- I don't... are you okay, man?" Jeff sounds both scared for Eddie, and scared of him, at the same time.

"I'm fine," Eddie manages to squeak out.

"Eddie," Jeff says seriously, "this is not fine. This is- this is insane behavior. You know that, right?"

"I've no idea what you mean," Eddie doesn't even know what he's defending himself from but his default response to anything is to defend himself. He grips Steve tightly around the torso with one hand and then moves both his hands to be behind his back so Jeff will stop staring at Steve.

"I mean this fuckin' insane shrine you have dedicated to Steve fucking Harrington. How did you even get a doll that looks like him. Did you- did you make that?"

Fuck. Holy fuck. What can he say to defend himself here? Is there a single way for him to come out of this not sounding deranged? If he agrees, let's Jeff's drawn conclusion be the truth, then that's all but confirmation to Steve about his big fat crush, so when Steve's back to being Steve he'll never look at Eddie again. Jeff might think he needs mental help, but he'll be here for Eddie. If he tries to deny the accusation, then he'll need an explanation. He'll have to tell Jeff something that make him seem less like a creepy stalker, but what? He can't tell the truth, not without letting everyone know he's going to tell Jeff. There's a whole other secret he'd have to let out to even have a chance of Jeff believing him.

Jeff must take his silence for acceptance or guilt, because he's speaking again. "I.... man, this is not healthy. Please tell me you aren't, like, hoarding a lock of his hair or his clothes or something."

Involuntarily, damningly, his eyes dart to the closet, where several of Steve's sweaters hang from when he'd borrowed them and never returned them. And it's not like Steve doesn't have several of Eddie's own articles of clothing, like his battle vest and a few shirts. But Jeff doesn't know they easily, willingly, swap clothes, so his eyes go wide and dart towards the closet, as if he can pick out which pieces belong to Steve on sight.

Actually, he probably can.

"This really isn't what it looks like," Eddie says because he has to say something. Being silent is too incriminating.

"I don't think you're aware of what this looks like," Jeff says, wiggling himself off of Eddie's bed to stand at the foot of it. "Of all the boys in Hawkins.... I knew you liked Steve but this is.... creepy. That doll looks so much like him that I recognized it. Does Steve know you're in love with him, or is this like a way to process your crush without having to-"

"Jeff!" Eddie yells, mortified. He can feel his whole face heat up, knows he must be bright red. Because Jeff just said, out loud and for Steve to hear, the thing that Eddie very much hasn't even said out loud to himself, even if he knows how he feels deep down.

Jeff must know he's overstepped some invisible boundary he wasn't even aware of because his face immediately shows regret. He takes a step forward and Eddie takes a step back.

Immediately, Jeff stops his forward momentum. "Shit, I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm sorry."

When Eddie answers, his voice sounds like he's been eating gravel, "Just, can you go wait in the living room? I'll be right out, and we can talk, or whatever, but can you just..."

A nod, and then Jeff is gone, closing the door behind him.

With shaking hands, Eddie brings Steve back to the front of him. Looks down at him. He's not even aware he's crying until he watches his tears mark Steve's tiny polo. He can't keep holding Steve. Can't keep looking at him. Not when- not when his best friend just outed him in the worst way possible. And Eddie can't even be upset or hurt about it because Jeff didn't know. He's teased Eddie about his crushes before, and in the safety of his own room, there was no reason for Jeff to have to watch what he was saying.

Even knowing that Steve is okay with Robin, loves her anyway, without the ability to confirm that Steve doesn't hate him right now, Eddie's going to freak out. But he can't. Jeff is waiting in the living room, and the band is waiting back at Gareth's. This was just- they were supposed to just grab the amp cable and get back, a fifteen-minute job at most, and now.

Now Eddie is staring down at Steve, willing himself to not have a panic attack.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have heard it like that, it s-should have come from me. It should- you-I'm sorry," Eddie gently underhand throws Steve onto the center of the bed. He lands face up and Eddie sinks to the floor because he can't stand anymore, and he can't really breath.

Steve knows Eddie's a fucking faggot now, and that he wants Steve, and there's no way he'll get to keep the friendship they had before this. There's no universe in which Steve isn't creeped out by this information. There has never been an instance where a straight boy found out about his crush on them and didn't abandon him. Not always cruelly, he'll admit. He's had friends that learned and just... slid from his life with no words and no fuss. Eddie just never spoke to them again because they never came back around, but they also never outed him.

That's what will happen with him and Steve. He'll quit inviting Eddie around, or calling when he's bored, and eventually it will get to the point that Eddie only sees him at BBQ's that Joyce drags him to.

Fuck. FUCK!

He's not sure how long he's on the floor but eventually, he finds the will to get back up and resume digging through his closet to find the amp cord. It doesn't take long, he was ridiculously close to finding it earlier, it seems.

Before leaving his room, he picks back up the cassette player and headphones. Silence comes from them, so he pops the tape out before flipping it to the B side and popping it back in. He puts the headphones around Steve's head again and presses play, doing his best to not actually look at Steve. He'll just have another breakdown if he does.

He trudges out of his room, closing the door behind himself before taking the short walk to the living room, where Jeff waiting on the couch, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled under his chin, eyes faraway as he stares towards the wall in front of him.

"Hey," Eddie says, to get his attention.

"Hey," Jeff says, sitting up straight and turning towards Eddie. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? I'm the fucking psycho here," he sighs, leaning sideways against the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest, hand clutching at the amp cord just for something to ground him.

"Forget that, whatever I did, or said, or whatever, you were- when you yelled my name. You looked terrified. Of me," Jeff almost whispers the last sentence, and if not for the stark silence in the trailer, Eddie wouldn't have heard.

"Not of you, Jeff," Eddie whispers back, but his voice doesn't stay quiet because 'quiet' isn't a thing Eddie does easily or often. "Of... of myself, and these- of how I feel- I'm a goddamned faggot and now that Ste- when Steve finds out I'll lose him! Like I've lost every fucking person who ever even suspected I was a fuckin' queer!"

Silence stretches between them, enough to make Eddie fidget, dropping his crossed arms to twist the amp cord about anxiously with both his hands.

"Look, man, I don't know what's, like, the appropriate thing to say so I'm just going for the honest thing. You got me. You'll never lose me. And all those other assholes that you think you lost? You're wrong. They lost you. And if Steve Harrington is gonna be another one of those, then you aren't losing him. 'Cause he was never really in your corner to begin with."

If this were anyone else, with the exception of his uncle, he would be able to hold it together better. But it's Jeff. His best friend. Who never believed Eddie committed unspeakable horrors over Spring Break last year. Who didn't question the strange, new friends he suddenly had afterwards; who accepted as the only explanation a softly spoken 'they saved me' and that was enough. Who had said 'ok, cool' in response to Eddie telling him he was gay, years ago now, and continued trying to find out if Eddie had a secret relationship, switching girlfriend for boyfriend like it wasn't a big deal (Eddie did not have a secret relationship; his good mood that week was the result of snooping for his birthday present and finding the guitar hidden under his uncle bed).

It's Jeff. So, Eddie does the most metal, manly thing he can and bursts into tears, blindly reaching for Jeff and pulling him off the couch so he can bear hug him and sob into his shirt.

"There, there, you big baby," Jeff rubs his back soothingly, "let it out. Then pull your sorry ass together, because Gareth and Brian are going to think we died in a car crash on the way here if we take much longer."

"Ah, fuck," Eddie manager to say around the sniffling he's trying to get control of, "you're right."

"You good, though?"

"Uh, I will be."

Jeff nods and steps back. "How about this. We go to practice, and then you can come to my place tonight and we can like, hangout and talk. If that's what you want."

He's already nodding as he says, "yeah. That would be good. I- uh, I have something to do after practice, but yeah, after that I'll come over."

Eddie tosses the amp cable to Jeff after they climb into the van and head off.

Halfway there, Jeff says, "you know Gareth and Brian are in your corner, too. If you ever feel like telling them one day."

"One day," Eddie agrees, "but today has already been... a lot."

Practice goes well, with some ribbing for their tardiness allowed. If Gareth and Brian notice Eddie's been crying recently, they keep it to themselves. Which is good, because Eddie cannot handle one more thing today.

A promise to meet up with Jeff later and Eddie's back home.

Back to where he left Steve, who will be laying in silence on his bed because it's been well over two hours since he and Jeff left, and the tape only held an hours' worth of music on each side. Back to the nightmare of not knowing if Steve hates him now, or if Eddie's, and this is the most likely scenario, being a bit overdramatic.

His uncle is home, so he greets him, asks after his day, gets told dinner is Fend For Yourself Night (which just means leftovers or a TV dinner), and gets asked about Steve. Because of course he does.

"You sure he went on a vacation willingly with those parents of his, and he ain't actually kidnapped and trapped somewhere?"

That's a little bit too true. If only Wayne knew. "Well, no. I'm not sure. All I know is what he said when he left."

Wayne gives him a look. One Eddie is used to seeing, that says 'I know more than you think but I'm waiting for you to tell me' and Eddie's a little afraid of what Wayne thinks he knows. So, instead of prying that box open, Eddie just says he's tired and goes to his room.

Steve is exactly where Eddie left him.

Suddenly, without reason or logic, Eddie is angry. He's so pissed at Steve for being gone for this long. For having transformed in the first place. For not being able to assure him they'll still be friends, regardless of Eddie's stupid crush.

He snatches Steve off the bed, hand clamping around one of Steve's arms and his torso so he can hold him up with one hand. Steve's face, permanently stuck into a blank expression, looks back. Even knowing that Steve sees and hears through this thing, Eddie's so angry at the doll. If Steve hadn't been turned into this stupid thing, if Eddie wasn't so helplessly in love with him, this wouldn't have happened. Eddie could have taken his own time telling Steve, instead of hearing his deepest secret spilled easily from Jeff's lips. Instead of this not knowing what Steve is thinking, or how he feels. Is he recoiling in disgust at the fact Eddie's making him look at his face? Or is Eddie being awarded the same kindness as Robin, a quiet acceptance that won't change their friendship?

Eddie doesn't know that answer and he hates it.

He's so angry with himself because he should know better. He's forcing his own insecurities onto Steve, about acceptance and caring, when nothing Steve's done since they've become friends is prove that he'll always be Eddie's friend and not even the apocalypse could change that.

"I'm going to hang out with Jeff, so you're gonna be alone a bit longer. Or maybe I should drop you off at Robin's when I go," Eddie goes to toss Steve back on the bed when something pinches his palm. It's a startling sharp pain, quick to fade, but it's surprising enough for Eddie to let go.

Eddie watches, horrified, as he falls to the floor. He twists in the air, landing with a dull thump and cracking sound on his left arm before falling onto his back.

"Shit. Shit! Fuck, Steve, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," Eddie is crouched, already in the process of reaching for Steve when he freezes.

There is a crack on Steve's left arm, a line that starts above his elbow on the inside of his arm and runs down and across his arm to his hand, where Steve's pinky finger is gone. Looking slightly to the side, Eddie can see the small porcelain piece that Steve is missing laying on the ground next to him. Eddie's own hand is hovering in the air above Steve, shaking.

This can't be- how did- Eddie wracks his brain. Was the crack there already? Did Eddie cause the crack when he bounced off his dresser earlier? When did it happen? Does that fucking matter when it's Eddie who broke a piece off him? If Steve didn't hate him before, he's got to now. Eddie doesn't have time to panic about this, he's got to- El. El can talk to Steve. Find out if he's okay. What if breaking him-

Eddie launches himself up and to his dresser, grabbing at the Walkie up there. He pulls the antenna up, clicks it on and tries not to actually shout as he says, "Code Red! Code fucking Red!" He lets off the talk button, counts to seven in his head, enough time, he reasons, for someone to respond before he repeats the process. "Code Red!! Code Red!"

He repeats this process for three minutes with no response. Where the fuck is everyone!? How is he supposed to- Oh! The phone!

He tears down the hall and to the phone. He must look a right state, because Wayne looks very concerned and is halfway to standing up when Eddie gets to the phone beside him. He yanks the phone up and dials the number for the Byers-Hopper household, holding up a shaking finger to Wayne, a silent plea to give him a moment.

It rings and rings and rings before the answering machine kicks in. Eddie presses down on the disconnect button before dialing the Wheelers' number next.

"Hello?"

"Mike! Code Red! Where the fuck is everyone and why aren't they answering!?"

"What?"

"Code Red! Where's Nancy. Put Nancy on."

"Dude, slow down, what's-"

"I broke St-it. I broke it and someone needs to get El here now. Code Red does not mean ask questions, Mike! It means Code. Fucking. Red."

"Shit, shit, right! I'll get Nancy and we'll get everyone- just- we'll be there soon."

Eddie slams the phone down and has to meet his uncle's eye now.

"Eddie. What is goin' on?"

Eddie inhales a breath and can feel his lower lip quivering. "It's- can we talk about it later? I promise I'm not the one hurt, or in trouble, or- it's not me, ok. I just-"

"Yer shakin' like a leaf boy. What's got you so spooked?"

Eddie just shakes his head and flees back to his room, slamming the door shut between him and his uncle. He can't bring himself to cross the room to Steve. He slides himself down the door to sit on the floor, pulling his knees up to hug.

"I'm so sorry, Steve. I'm sorry."

#steddie #my fic #porcelain steve #TW: Eddie calls himself a faggot and he means it in a bad way #did I make a playlist on spotify w/ Top 40 songs for June 21-27 1987 so id know how many tapes eddie had to use to record it?#yes. its 2 tapes fyi‚ using side A and B of one. a total of 2h54m. in my defense it was a writers block activity.#couldnt figure out what to have jeff say to comfort eddie that was in character and era-appropriate so... playlist it was!#if i were titling these parts this would be Eddie's No Good‚ Very Bad‚ Terrible‚ Horrible Day #I mean... he's had worse days (Spring Break '86) but this is up there for him #also back to back updates!? who am i??? but don't expect another one too soon #i started this one as part 6 originally but decided i wanted a more lighthearted piece first #so i wrote like 2/3 of this before writing what i posted for part 6 so finishing this was quick

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trophygony · 2 years

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@ people who use spotify....why not use youtube

#or google mp3 download free if you want to listen offline #am i asking because i almost never use spotify and instead rely on youtube generated playlists-#-that have the same songs i've listened to for the past 6 months and whenever i see a -#-but my spotify taste is from 2020 and is just marina and regina spektor songs with a dose of the enacore playlist #yes. yes i am. but that is just bonus info. anyway spotify won't let me listen to do help me by nightmargin will it #so there you have it folks. that will be 20 bucks. i don't know hpw much a buck is #but i betcha it's what i deserve for my stellar takes. i think i should go to sleep actually.#okay it cut it but posts that say rate your spotify taste. you can try to figure out in which tag it belongs

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astramachina · 1 month

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........... Watcher. I mean. I get it. But what the hell. I love you guys but I can't do it. I can't pay for another subscription. ):

Like I get it, youtube as a platform doesn't lend itself well to this kind of media but damn. Damn.

#texts.#even if i wanted to support a 'small' creator i just can't afford it. I'm broke as shit bro.#the only streaming site i pay for is spotify bcs i need it for work. everything else i just use my friends'.#again. I understand but i am EXTREMELY disappointed.#I hate the whole 'we have something good going on but we have to make more money because????'#Like youtubers who've been HUGE for 10+ years who are gonna be swinning in it for three lifetimes #yet still freak out when vids get demonatized.#Like okay. It's a job. I get it. You wanna get paid for your work and you're correct for demanding so.#But idk i just woke up from a horrible nightmare and logged onto tumblr and saw this smsjshwbsjsdje #I'm so used to just scraping by and doing what I love on the side because I HAVE to create otherwise I'll go insane #and I do. I DO live in fear that if success ever comes to me that'll I'll also take a turn into going where money takes me.#I don't want that. I want to be able to live comfortably yes. But I want my art to be accessible to everyone yknow???#I know 5 bucks a month ain't much but there are smaller creators on patreon that also deserve those $5 #so many in fact.#I'm going back to sleep.

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sommerbueckers · 2 months

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My Brother's Best Friend Pt3??

(smut😏)

A small breeze crept through my open window and a chill settled in my bedroom. I typed away on my computer, trying to finish up the last of my homework before Thanksgiving break came to an end. The week had been exactly what I thought it'd be and some change; Paige and Micha came home from college and spent the entirety of the break playing Fortnite and arguing over silly superheroes. The rest of the Bueckers family joined us for Thanksgiving dinner too where Drew graced us with a few of his dance moves. And to top it all off, I had gotten a 25% discount on a pair of Ugg boots for being the first person to purchase from the website on Black Friday.

I finished off the last of the water in my bottle, twisting the cap back on and tossing it toward the trash. I missed, badly. The sound of the plastic defeatedly hitting floor echoed through the room, though it wasn't louder than the laugh that came after it. I snapped my head to my door to find Paige standing there with her arms crossed, leaning against the frame. She had that adorable stupid smile plastered on her face as she looked at me.

"That couldn't have been worse if you tried" she laughed.

I rolled my eyes, twisting the chair around as I said, "Micha isn't here."

"I know that," she nodded, "I just got off the phone with him."

"So...why're you here?" I frowned.

"What? I can't visit my favorite cheerleader now?" the blonde asked with a pout, "That hurts my heart Sunny."

My unimpressed look didn't falter.

After a moment of silence she sighed, seemingly struggling to say what she was thinking.

"You and Micha are driving back today, shouldn't you be packing or something?" I asked, "Unless I've got the date wrong."

I stood up and walked over to the calendar I had hooked on the wall. My eyes traveled over to the large red circle, inside the writing read 'Paige and Micha go bye-bye:(.'

Paige cleared her throat from behind me, "No, you've got it right."

I turned around, staring at her from across the room.

"I just-"

"You just what?" I interrupted without thinking.

"I came to say goodbye" she admitted.

"Goodbye to me?"

"Yes you."

"Why me?"

"Jesus Sunny!" she exclaimed with a smile, "I can't say 'goodbye' to you?"

"No you, you can," I stammered.

Paige nodded contently, "Good."

She pushed off the doorway and began walking toward me, her arms opening the closer she got. I wasted no time wrapping my arms around her neck and pulling her close to me. We hugged for a little lot longer than we should've, both too embarrassed to say it but not enough to show it. I breathed in her scent, hoping to remember it long enough for it to last until I saw her again.

I loved the way I had to stand on my toes to reach her, how she never complained about having to bend over to hug me. Though truth be told I don't think she really minded.

I had gotten used to the sound of her laughter again as it rang throughout the house, how she always did the same celebration dance when she beat Micha in a game, how she never failed to make me feel seen whenever we were in the same room. I was crushing so hard on this girl it wasn't even funny.

When we pulled away, she took a step back.

"Were you serious when you said you were gonna unplug your tv if one of my games came on?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"And miss the chance to see you all sweaty? No way..." I smirked.

She laughed loudly, I wanted to record it and add it to my Spotify playlist. Instead, I checked my watch and sighed.

"What time are you guys leaving?" I asked.

Paige shrugged, "Not sure, whenever he gets back I guess."

"Hmm," I hummed, "that could take hours."

I stepped closer.

"Yeah," she laughed, "or he could be back any minute."

She stepped closer.

At that point, you could cut the tension with a knife. I stared at her; ski slope nose, blue eyes, perfect teeth hiding behind those perfect lips. I just needed to last until winter break, that was only two weeks. I had gone far longer than that before, so surely I could do that...couldn't I? God I needed wanted her so bad.

In an instant her lips were on mine, her hands cupping my face as she held me in place. For a moment I was frozen, my eyes wide with shock while my brain processed what was happening. And when it did...boy did things take a turn. I pulled her closer by her shirt, our bodies pressing against each other as much as they could.

I felt her hands move from my face down to my ass, squeezing roughly. I laughed when her tongue slipped into my mouth, sending a fuzzy feeling from my chest down to my thighs. I couldn't help but let out the quietest moan at the feeling, my need for her growing with every second that passed.

I couldn't believe this was happening; Paige and I, me and Paige. It felt like sophomore year all over again, except I was sure by now, both of us had gained enough experience to actually have some fun. The thought of Paige fucking other girls was almost enough to make me cringe...almost. I didn't though, because right now those other girls didn't matter, I did.

She turned us around and pressed me against my vanity, my hands immediately grasping the edge of it to keep me from losing my balance.

We broke away from our kiss, giggling like schoolgirls at the way my perfume bottles and lotions had fallen from the sudden force.

"Too much?" she asked breathlessly.

I shook my head, "Not enough."

As she reconnected our lips, she trailed her hand up and down my inner thigh. I opened my legs, giving her access to where she wanted.

"Wider" she said.

I obliged, parting my legs further to allow her hand to trail closer to my spot.

This girl could tell me to jump and I'd ask 'How high?'

I felt her hand slide into the waistband of my leggings, and by her smile, I knew she had discovered how intense my need for her had gotten. I knew I was soaked, she knew I was soaked...now what was gonna be done about it?

She rubbed my clit through my panties so painfully slow that I could feel myself crumbling bit by bit.

I whined as I threw my head back, "Faster Paige, please faster."

She placed soft kisses on my neck, teasing me as she moved my panties from side to side. I was fucking throbbing. When she had finally had enough, she slowly began moving her fingers up and down my folds. I moved my hips to match the pace, my shaky breaths filing the room.

Up and down.

Circles.

Up and down.

Circles.

The patterns were driving me insane, and my shaky breaths soon turned into tiny whimpers. I wanted to come at the sight of her: staring down at me hungrily with those gorgeous eyes. Her lip taken in between her teeth as she focused her attention on pleasing me.

I was a needy mess. My face rested in a permanent pout as we held eye contact, my cheeks growing hot. She laughed lowly, almost as if she was teasing me. I felt her fingers speed up as she rubbed circular motions on my clit, it was so sensitive it almost hurt.

"F-fuck...just like that" I moaned out, nodding my head.

"Mmm you like that?" she smirked, once again changing her speed.

"Yes..." I whispered breathlessly.

Her middle finger razzed my entrance, pushing in only a little before pulling back out. She was enjoying the effect she had on me, the way she gauged my face for a reaction every time she did something new gave her away. Steadily, she inserted a finger. I gasped, sucking in all the air around me. I smiled at the sound that cut through the silence as she began to fuck me. Having to hear how wet I was for her was embarrassing, but I didn't even care.

"Faster" I pleaded shamelessly.

She laughed.

"Tell me how much you want it" she demanded.

She wanted me to talk? Of all things that she could've been hearing: moans, whimpers, strings of curse words as she fucked me senseless, she wanted to hear sentences? When I didn't respond she pulled her finger out, her left hand gripping the back of my neck while her right rested just outside of my entrance.

"I want it," I said, my voice pathetically desperate, "I want it so fucking bad."

She smiled smugly, giving me the most delicate kiss on my lips that I had ever gotten. She didn't back away as she slammed two fingers into me, listening for my reaction. She didn't have to listen very hard because the scream that I had let out was loud enough to alert the neighbors. She couldn't hold back her laughter as she watched my face contort from the pain and pleasure. She began pumping her fingers in and out, giving me time to adjust to it before quickening her pace.

"You're doing so good for me" she whispered, not taking her eyes off mine. "You take me so well."

I tried to play it cool but I just couldn't. I had gripped her shoulder tightly with one hand while keeping the other firmly behind me. The most pitiful moans fell from my lips as she started to speed up. I was practically dripping as I came close to my climax. I tried to hold it, not wanting this euphoric feeling to end, but I couldn't help it as I tightened around her.

"You gonna be a good girl and come for me, hm?" she asked teasingly.

"Y-yes" I panted.

"Yeah I know you are, go 'head mama" she cooed.

I buried my head into her shoulder as I came, my sweet cries muffled by the fabric of her t-shirt. She held her fingers in me for a moment, helping me through my orgasm before carefully sliding them out. I shuddered at the absence of them.

She smiled proudly at her hand, slowly bringing it to her mouth and sucking her fingers clean. She's definitely done that before. She pulled me in for a hug and kissed my head, "You're so adorable."

I smiled against her chest, and that's when we heard the front door open. Micha was home.

"I think that's my cue" she murmured into my hair.

I nodded sadly. "Two weeks?"

"Two weeks."

OKAY GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE ???🙏🏼🙏🏼 This smut was not very good but it's literally my first time ever ACTUALLY writing it so...how'd I do???

Just let me get some more practice and I promise y'all won't be disappointed, trust. Also this wasn't proofread so if there are any typos or whatever that's my bad...

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #brother's best friend #smut #wlw post

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pradabambie · 3 months

Text

part 2 to this ask - rafexreader fight.

i'm finally back!! yay

let me know if you like this and remember request are always open <3 help your girl out in the creativity department hehe

it's been two weeks since you last saw or talked to rafe, and he was losing it.

normally, you two were practically inseparable, spending every moment together, a routine rafe had grown accustomed to.

his attempts to reach you were relentless.

he spammed your phone with calls and texts, even emails. he not only contacted you, but all your friends. he even showed up at your house a couple times, your parents insisting on the instructions you gave them: you didn't want to see him.

rafe even visited places you frequented, hoping for an encounter. today, luck was on his side. he spotted you sorting through the apples in your little pink gym shorts, and tapped your shoulder, careful not to startle you as you focused on the music coming out of your headphones.

you looked up at him, rolled your eyes and pressed pause on the spotify app "leave me alone, rafe" you asserted.

but as then you looked into his eyes, worn and red, dark bags under them. his hair was messy, and you could tell he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. his plea cut through the air.

"please, i'm beggin you. let me buy you a coffee or something. i need to talk to you. i need you. i miss you." his words were interrupted by a shaky sigh that left your lips.

"okay," you said, staring at him expressionlessly.

"what?"

"yes, okay, rafe. pick me up at six, and i'll have one cup of coffee with you. that's it."

a sudden grin lit up his face. "yes! yes, of course. i'll pick you up—"

"i have to go. see you later," you cut him off, not allowing him to finish.

the hours leading up to the meeting felt like an eternity for rafe. this coffee date represented his chance to mend things.

at exactly six, rafe, dressed in a shirt he remembered you liked, stood outside your door. you noticed his effort—neatly combed hair, a hint of cologne.

you greeted him with a nod, signaling readiness to get it over with. rafe, attempting to conceal his nerves, led you to his car.

the drive to the cafe was filled with awkward silences. once there, you both ordered drinks, enveloped in the familiar aroma of coffee. rafe took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts.

"i don't even know where to start," he admitted, eyes focused on his coffee cup.

you remained silent, waiting for him to continue. rafe took a moment to choose his words carefully, realizing the significance of what he was about to say.

"look, i messed up, okay? i took you for granted, i realize that. i miss us, and i can't stand being without you," he confessed, his gaze pleading for understanding.

you listened quietly, sipping your coffee, contemplating whether his words carried genuine remorse or were just another attempt to manipulate your feelings.

"i've been reflecting on everything, and i want to change. i want to be the person you deserve. please, give me another chance."

your response was measured. "i want to believe you, rafe, i really do. but how do i know this isn't another one of your little games?"

he pulled a red velvet box from his pocket, revealing a silver ring with your birthstone right in the center. "i got this for you. i know this doesn’t fix things, but it's a start. i remember you talking about a promise ring or something like that."

your eyes lit up looking at the ring, you had to admit rafe's good taste remained intact.

“it's gorgeous, rafe, but you can't buy me with this, okay?"

"i know. it's just a little visual aid. i want you for life. i promise to show you i'm committed to this, to you."

you paused, studying his words. the silence heightened rafe's anxiety.

"let's just say you're on probation," you finally said. "but i swear, rafe, mess up once, and—"

before you could finish, strong arms wrapped around you, lifting you off your seat, showering you with kisses. "yes, baby, anything you say," rafe declared, filled with newfound hope.

#mine #rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #obx #rafe cameron blurb #rafe concepts #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron dark

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR THIRTEEN

in which eddie wants to distract you from the one thing you ask for: honesty. it's a shame he never realized just how dirty you can play when you want something bad enough.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, smut, female masturbation/male masturbation, exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), minors dni

→ wc: 3.2k+

→ a/n: probably the shortest chapter of the entire series. if i added anything else from what will be in hour 14, it would simply get too long. and this length felt good for what i was trying to accomplish! as always with my smut, my apologies if it ain't up to standard. i don't really edit my smut chapters haha. thank you all for being so kind and for all messages, reblogs, etc! <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

13:00 ────────ㅇ───────── 24:00

HOUR THIRTEEN - 4:00 AM

“Would you like me to be honest now, doll? Or would you rather me eat that poor pussy right here, right now, on this counter?”

Against your better judgment, your knees spread for him.

Honesty can wait, you realize, as his palms are warm against your skin. He’s slow in his descent, dropping to his knees on his kitchen floor at an antagonizing pace.

“Is that what you want? I was interrupted earlier, after all,” he murmurs, eyes locked with yours as he finally settles on the floor, hands cupping the back of your knees before tugging your hips to settle at the edge of the counter, “Use your words for me, sweetheart.”

No, we can’t settle a fight with sex. That is not becoming our new normal.

“Yes,” you breathe out, your mind in shambles as you look down at him on his knees for you. As if he’s prepared to worship. As if the two of you weren’t just arguing.

“Yes, what?”

He’s weaponizing himself against you now. Fingertips tickling down your calves, smiles lilting in a knowing grin. He knows that he has you right where he wants you right now. He knows just how desperate he can turn you.

“Yes, please,” you beg, giving into the desperation far too soon. But he only tsks in response, not fully accepting the plea despite the rashness that drips from your tone. And so you try again as his fingers return to your waist and plays with the band of the sweatpants you had just put back on, “I want you to eat my poor pussy right here, right now. On this counter. Please.”

He doesn’t expect the straight-forwardness, the crude words – you shock even yourself. You can see his upper-hand immediately falter as his breath catches in his chest and his hands curl unexpectedly into the bare skin beneath the clothing he was fiddling with.

He thinks he has you right where he wants you, but you know better. You’ve caught on quickly; he isn’t just doing this to distract you, but because he needs it just as much as you. This is not a weapon against just you in this argument, but himself as well. The distraction is a double-edged sword, and just as he was pressing it against your own skin in the form of a devilish grin and wandering hands, you decide to press it right back.

You go for the sternum as you whisper, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? It’s a win-win for you, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he keeps his face stoney, but you can catch his blush rising underneath the fluorescent lighting.

In another daring move, you swat away his hands, and you remove the sweatpants.

Fuck Eddie. Fuck all the fights. Fuck letting him have all the control, all the fun.

“No? Allow me to explain,” your voice grows in volume and confidence simultaneously, and you relish the way his eyes have widened when met with your clothed core once more. He’s looking at it like it’s the first time, as if he hadn’t just had his way with you on his couch, you at his mercy fully. “I think you want to get your mouth on me even more than I want it. And if you get your way, you also get to avoid honesty. Again.”

Your mind somehow becomes sharper in the haze he’d originally caused. The look in his eyes only fuels you as you bring your hands to the edge of his sweater, toying with the hem and smirking at him.

“I see,” he hums, reaching out for you, eyes still glassy and distracted. You swat his hand away before it even gets the chance to reach your knee. In an instant, his gaze adverts from your pussy to look up to you, stunned with a dumb-struck expression, puffy lips parted as his mouth hangs open ever-so-slightly, “That sounds like a win for me and for you. I’m not seeing the issue here, doll.”

“The issue is you avoiding honesty, Munson,” you scoff. You finally lean forward, pulling his sweatshirt off of you. You toss it to the ground beside where he kneels, now wearing nothing but your panties and the shit-eating grin that would usually belong to him, “I’d like to propose a deal.”

He’s easy to turn dumb. Too easy. The moment your breasts are exposed, the man before you is nearly drooling, eyes darting from them to your core, rinse and repeat, as if he can’t decide what to focus on. Anywhere but your eyes. Anywhere but your smug expression.

You have the upperhand.

“Look at me,” you demand. Your voice doesn’t hold the same strength as his would – that’s not your forte. Your forte is in the softness you continue to carry, the delicacy you now weaponize with shy fingers that trail down over your own stomach, inching closer to your underwear.

“What’s the deal?” he asks without complying to your request.

Immediately, you pause your wandering hands to lean forward, balancing your elbows on your knees as a hand grabs at his chin. It’s daring, even for you, but oh so rewarding. Blown out pupils swallow up the shades of gold that thread his irises as you give him no other choice to focus on your face again.

“What do you want?” he’s the one now desperate, still on his knees, urgency drowning out any cockiness that had been in his tone to begin with. He’s at your mercy, “Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”

“Honesty.”

He’s turned into something impenetrable. You can practically feel the waves of his ocean still. Neither of you breathe for one second, two seconds, three seconds. Only three seconds, but it could have been an eternity there in his kitchen.

Your grip on his chin never falls.

“Honesty?” he questions, brows furrowing, eyes narrowing, “I already told you, princess, you either get one or the other. You can’t have both. Not happening.”

“No?” you coo, finally removing your fingers from his skin. There’s not a single sign of the hold you had on him, your touch having been as soft as a butterfly’s wings. He’s unmarked, and he’ll remain that way, unless he agrees to your terms. You’re determined now. The upper hand won’t be sliding from your grasp as easily as it had fallen from his, “That’s a shame.”

You lean back and his eyes follow your every movement, “And why’s that?”

“Because if you’re not honest, you’re not laying a hand on me.”

“That’s still my deal, baby,” he’s trying to be condescending again, to get you back under his thumb and constrained by his idea of a distraction.

It won’t work. Not this time.

He leans forward, and just as his breath hits the wet spot that had begun to form over your clothed cunt, you bring a hand to his forehead and push him away. Your knees snap shut immediately as he tries to keep his balance, leaning back on his haunches.

He’s glaring up at you now. But he’s still not desperate enough.

“Not your deal at all,” you continue on. You’re enjoying yourself far too much, and he can tell. His breathing is picking up, his jaw has locked as he gazes up at you, “See, pretty boy, with my deal, we could have our cake and eat it too,” He swallows hard as you bring a hand up to one of your breasts, “You’re honest with me, and I let you get your mouth on my pussy. A win for everyone.”

“And if I’m not honest?”

“Then I’ll take care of myself. I’m a big girl, simple as that.”

You’ve had to spell it out for him, but it finally clicks in his mind. You can watch the mechanics of him processing your words in real time, and that desperation you’ve been seeking out this entire time has arrived. Pathetic, big eyes. Lips twitching to avoid falling victim to a pout. If you could see his knuckles, you’d find them turning a bright shade of white as he grips his knees painfully.

Just as he opens his mouth to argue again, your finger flicks at your nipple. All words on his tongue die, shrivel, dissipate at the sound of your soft moan.

“Such a shame,” you sigh out, heading lulling backwards. The back of your skull hits his cabinet with a soft thump and you hope that it won’t ache once the adrenaline and euphoria has passed, “I was kind of excited to see what that mouth could do besides piss me off.”

“You’re bluffing,” he deadpans, zeroing in on your fingers as they let go of one nipple and move onto the next, “You’ll cave before I do, sweetheart.”

“I don’t think I will,” your voice is breathless as you twist your nipple, arching your back into the touch for emphasis. It’s not as good as his hands would be, you know that, but you’re not backing down now. You have your eyes on the prize, staring down honesty with the same intensity that he stares between your legs.

“No? Are you sure you aren’t imagining how much better my fingers could be? My hands?” he eggs on. Almost as if subconsciously, he’s leaning forward into your gravitation again. When his nose brushes your knee, your thighs clench harder.

It’s not to keep him out. His words travel down your spine, wrapping and shocking all the way down until they’ve reached your core.

His hands would feel better, but his honesty will feel the best.

“You forget that before tonight, I went about life just fine without your hands,” you reply as you finally let your hand begin down a path over your torso again, starting at your sternum and traveling at an agonizing pace. You’re teasing yourself just as he would, as you know he wants to.

As you know he craves to.

“Yeah?” he chuckles lowly. Your eyes flutter close as your fingers reach the band of your panties, and you try to imagine the look on his face as you prepare yourself for his taunting, “I’ve seen the way you stare at my hands, baby. I’ve caught you staring when I’m playing with my rings. That dumb expression on your face as you watch me tap on tables. Just how many times have you imagined them wrapped around your throat, or knuckles deep in that pussy, before tonight?”

Your eyes snap open. His chest is puffed up both in self-satisfaction and heaving breaths, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. And he knows you’re watching intently, making a show of it as he slows the drag of it. A small teasing of this tongue could be on you right now.

“See, now you’re asking a bit much of me, don’t you think?” you try to keep your tone even as your hand stays poised at the edge of your underwear, making eye contact once more, “Sounds a lot like you’re asking for honesty from me. You shouldn’t ask for things you can’t give in return.”

With those words, your hand plunges into your underwear, fingers sliding between your folds, teasing your hole as you gather wetness to trail back up to your clit.

It breaks Eddie. Seeing your fingers hidden by your panties, pleasuring yourself, making whines begin to spill out between gasps, pulled from the back of your throat as your knees separate enough to accommodate your hand.

“What do you want me to be honest about?” he nearly barks out. You see his shoulder moving, arm crossing closer to his lap, and know his palming himself through his sweats.

You take the time to insert a finger into your clenching hole, Eddie’s eyes finding yours at the intrusion, biting down your moan into a mere hum before saying, “Why do you hate me?”

“Right now?” he gasps out, confirming he is touching himself to the show you’re putting on, “I hate you for being such a fucking brat. I hate you for thinking you’re in control right now.”

“I am in control.”

You slip in a second finger, curling them in sync as you press them in knuckle-deep. It’s not enough – it’s not as good as his fingers. You whine out at the thought, bucking your hips against your hand, palm applying pressure on your clit.

“Baby, you wish you were-” he goes to bring a hand to your knee again, and you’re already ready with a hand, grabbing his wrist sharply this time.

“How hard are you right now?” you ask, having to slow your movements to get out any coherent words. You can feel his heartbeat racing below his skin, feel the taunt muscles of his arm as he tries to exercise self-constraint. He’s losing – he’s failing, miserably.

Just having his skin against yours as you continue to pump your own fingers into yourself has more intense waves of pleasure tearing through you.

“How- I-” he stutters. He’s licking his lips again, but this time, it’s not to tease you.

He craves it as much as you need it. You need his honesty, and you need his goddamn mouth on you.

“I asked you a question,” you pant, grip tightening on him. You can see his shoulder shifting more fervently now, see the flush of his cheeks. He’s touching himself, and he’s close.

If he finishes first, he wins. You can’t have that.

“Tell me how hard you are right now, honestly, and I’ll let you touch me.”

A snap in his composure. You feel it in the twitch of his wrist in your grasp. “Hard. So fucking hard, I can’t fucking think right now,” you begin to get starry vision, pumping your fingers faster, curling harder to reach for a spot you can’t seem to find when his eyes are on you and his hands are right there, “If I don’t get my mouth on you within the next five seconds, sweetheart, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”

You’re right on the edge, teetering over a cliffside. At the bottom are all the repercussions of what is to come. The breeze of your defeat, the call of his honesty. You don’t have to think twice; you remove your hand from yourself despite the disappointment that ruffles your entire body, and your knees fall open to him.

He hardly gives you the time to release your grip on his wrist before his fingers are tearing into the waistband of your panties and tearing them down your thighs, letting them fall to the floor limply once they brush your ankles. His palms dig into the meat of your thighs, spreading you impossibly apart and tugging you to nearly hang off the edge of the counter before he’s bringing his face to your hot core.

And then he pauses. You’re waiting for the feeling of his tongue in you, his nose to bump your clit, and he pauses.

“For the record,” he breathes out, and it has your core clenching against nothing as you feel it against you. His fingers dig into your thighs harsher, “I never hated you.”

You look down at him, pretty between your thighs, brown eyes sparkling, “Are you being honest right now?”

“I am,” he doesn’t hesitate, leaning forward and kissing your mound, “I could never hate you.”

You’ve won. Your victory settles in the air around the two of you, your victory whispers between each kitten lick he makes at your clit, to each thrust of his fingers when he presses two into you without warning. Your victory tangles in his hair just as your hands do as your hips buck up against his mouth, desperate and uncaring in lack of control. Your victory splotches your vision, blacking it out when he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. Your victory dances with the stars behind your eyelids as he curls his finger into the spot you’d been searching for, as he traces an unspoken language over your clit, as you repeatedly call out his name and he murmurs “good girl” in vibrations that reverberate through your core, your spine, your vines, your flames.

You’ve won. But it doesn’t feel like winning when you’re coming down from your high, Eddie pressing kisses to your inner thigh and lips shining from your slick, and his words come back to haunt you.

“I could never hate you.”

The victory has come at a cost. One that neither of you address as you catch your breaths. As you slump to the side, resting your temple against the side of his cool refrigerator, you look down to see a wet spot spread across the crotch of Eddie’s sweatpants.

You knew he had been touching himself to you touching yourself, but the patch is far too large to have just been precum.

“Did you…” you murmur, fighting a grin, “Did you cum from eating me out?”

Eddie, remarkably enough, isn’t even shameless as he rakes a hand through his curls, pursing his lips in a way that only accentuates to the slow curl upwards of the corners, “You look so surprised for someone who was so insistent that I needed that more than you did.”

“I was right,” you laugh, lifting out of your lean supported by the appliance to your left, “I knew it.”

He only chuckles back in response, rising slowly from his kneeling position, “Yeah, yeah, Sherlock Holmes. You cracked the case – congratulations,” he doesn’t close the space between the two of you as he stands there, and his words pester the back of your mind again. If you could never hate me, why are you so far away right now? “Stay here, I can come back with another ra-”

“You don’t have to clean me up again,” you interrupt. His words are pushing forward now. I could never hate you. It doesn’t make sense, doesn’t fit right into everything you already know of Eddie, “I’ll be fine. Just clean yourself up, yeah?”

He looks taken back, but says nothing more as he nods before leaving the kitchen. He sends you one last glance, one last chance to say more. But you can’t say a word to him, or even meet his gaze, as you filter through endorphins and try to pull sensibility from what just happened.

He leaves, and you regret. You don’t regret doing all of this with him – you’d enjoyed it, he’d enjoyed it, it was good – but you regret how it’s happening. You regret all the emotions it’s nurturing. Feelings that turn it all complicated, that make this entire ordeal more than something casual. This night is going to haunt your mind for the rest of your days. It has carved out an emptiness inside of you that hadn’t been there before, or maybe it had been, and you had already spent a year filling it in with the dirt of sour interactions and abrasive fights.

It didn’t really matter, though, whether it had been there before tonight or not. All that matters is the space there was empty once more, hollowed out by five simple words.

“I could never hate you.”

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @tlclick73 @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

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#twenty four hours #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you

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sunflower-lilac42 · 7 months

Text

✧ 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 | nico hischier ♔

summary: y/n is a famous singer and on a couple of interviews, her love for the swiss hockey man comes out. or, two times y/n talked about nico hischier in an interview/on a talk show and one time he talked about her.

warnings: um, gross foods and a tiny mention of gagging.

notes: i wanted to do a third interview but i didn't want to write it really so if you want to imagine it it's the james corden carpool karaoke with niall horan and when they do a lie detector test, james and niall ask about nico. also I'm sorry, i think this is mainly dialogue and i tried to make it so it wasn't but it's an interview so that's kind of hard. pretend the niall video came out in the past year. definitely not proofread because it's two in the morning and i am delierious and have no energy to go back and edit so don't make fun of me, thanks bye! :) also let me know if you want a part two of when they actually meet or get together. part two is out!

publish date: 10/30/23

part two (his girl ) | nhl masterlist | main masterlist

Jimmy Fallon - Mad Libs Theater ➺ reference video here!

“Welcome back, I’m hanging out with y/n y/l/n! Her new album is streaming every, apple music, Spotify, you name it. Uh, y/n I want to do something fun with you and act out a dramatic scene, but first, we have to fill in the blanks. It is time for Mad Lib Theater.”

The intro of Mad Lib Theater plays and y/n readjusts herself on the seat to look at Jimmy, “Alright. So here’s how this works. I’m going to ask you for some silly words - nouns, verbs, adjectives, et cetera - and they’ll all be written onto our cue cards here, as we’re doing this. And then we’re gonna act out a dramatic Mad Libs scene. Are you ready for this?”

“Thank god I went to fourth grade.”

Jimmy laughs along with the audience and uncaps the marker, “Okay. Here we go. I want a noun that starts with a C.”

“Candle.”

“Candle’s good. Adjective.”

“Sweaty.”

“Type of bug.”

“Mosquito.”

“Animal.”

“Elephant.”

“A chain restaurant.”

“Chipotle. I used to work there.”

“Chipotle?”

“Yeah.”

Jimmy continues, “Noun.”

“Jersey.”

“Like New Jersey or a sports Jersey?”

“Oh, uh New Jersey.”

“A kitchen appliance.”

“Spatula.”

“A plural noun.”

“Buildings.”

“Sophisticated.”

“I know right.”

“Another animal.”

“A yack.”

“One of the Seven Dwarfs.”

“Dopey.” She looks into the audience and winks.

“Celebrity name.”

“Taylor Swift. I love Taylor!”

“Name me a number,”

“13.”

“Just 13, 13-”

“1386.”

“Type of profession.”

“Hockey player.”

“Hockey player? Okay.”

“Wow! Speed round. Here we go. Another plural noun.”

“Mooses?”

“Uh, okay. Body part. Watch it.”

“Elbow.”

“Phrase that you would say if you bumped into Leonardo DiCaprio on the street.”

The audience starts yelling, lots of fans of y/n knowing how much she loves this movie as it takes her no time to come up with an answer, “Why did you let go, Jack? You should have stayed on the door. You should’ve got on the door.”

“Why did you let go, Jack? There was room for you on the door.” Y/n repeats herself for the man as he writes down her answer.

“Another noun.” Y/n’s flustered, “You do this one.”

“Burrito.”

“Burrito, okay.”

“Type of drink.”

“Bloody Mary.”

“Another celebrity.”

“Elizabeth Olsen.”

“Verb ending in i-n-g.”

“Slaying.”

Jimmy busts out laughing, “Slaying. This is fun doing Mad Libs with you.”

“What you’d shout if you sat down in a wet seat.”

“Fudge that’s wet.”

“‘Fudge that’s wet?’ I love you.”

“First concert you ever attended.”

“Madonna.”

“Wow. Madonna. You know what, that makes sense.”

“A professional athlete.”

Without any hesitation, y/n blurts out, “Nico Hischier.”

“What?”

Y/n hides her increasingly growing red cheeks, “He’s my favorite hockey player. He’s the captain of the New Jersey Devils.”

There were some hockey or Devils fans in the crowd and they let out a couple of cheers. Jimmy wiggles his eyebrows at the girl before continuing, “Another verb ending in I-N-G.”

“Blushing.”

“Yes, very good. You’re blushing right now.”

Y/n laughs, “Two words that rhyme.”

“Swiss. Kiss.”

“A long, silly word.”

“Iridocyclitis!” A man shouts from the audience.

“What?!

“Is that a disease? Is that an actual-”

“Yeah, what is that?”

Jimmy attempts to spell out a word.

“Iridocyclitis. Yeah, of course. Alright, now, we’ve filled out the words for our scene. Good look to our cue card. So sorry, Roman. Are you ready to perform our scene?”

“I don’t know now.”

“Let’s go let’s do this.”

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

Jimmy and y/n stand on the building after coming out in superhero costumes, “Am I green?”

“No, yeah, you’re green. Yeah, you’re green. I’m red.”

“Candle girl! What are you doing here?!”

“Oh, hello, Captain Sweaty.”

“Please call me by my nickname, Mr. Mosquito.”

“I’m here for the same reason you are here - to rescue the elephant stuck on the roof of this Chipotle.”

“I knew there was trouble tonight when I saw my signal in the sky- a light projected in the shape of… New Jersey.”

“Well, using our powers this rescue should be simple. I’m faster than a speeding spatula, and everything I touch turns to buildings.” Y/n says before Jimmy responds, “I have the agility of a yak. And when I get really dopey, I turn into Taylor Swift.”

Y/n starts laughing, unable to control herself, “Wow. I must tell you, my back story is complicated. When I was 1386 years old, I was… I was once bitten by a hockey player.”

She then spits out more laughter and doubles over to hold her stomach, “Oh my- Oh my god. And ever since, I’ve been able to emanate mooses from my elbow.”

“Why did you let go, Jack?” Jimmy holds his hand out before y/n places her own on his shoulder, “I know. It’s amazing, but with great power comes great burrito.” Both of the two laugh beofre controlling themselves and continuing the scene.

“Your story reminds me of my own. I became a superhero after I fell into a tub of radioactive bloody Mary. But listen. We must complete this rescue. In the trapped elephant’s collar, there’s a USB drive that contains images of Elizabeth Olsen slaying.”

Y/n snorts and covers her mouth quickly before laughing, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I thought it’d be much worse.”

“And as a warning, I do have one weakness.”

“What is it?”

“Madonna.”

“That’s okay. Just remember what Professor Nico Hischier told us. He said if we’re ever in a situation like this,” Jimmy pulls out a gold button, “You press this button, and we will both immediately start blushing. Here we go.”

Y/n laughs and the two start slapping their cheeks for them to redden, “Our blushing is causing the elephant to be saved.”

She looks at Jimmy and then the cue cards and shakes her head, “Swiss kiss! We did it!”

“Yes, let’s high-five and say the secret superhero catchphrase on ‘three’. One, two, three.”

They both squint in an attempt to read the word, “Iri-dira-calaptus.”

“Dude!”

“Yeah!”

“And scene!”

The two laugh as the scene ends and Jimmy tries to get his words out, “My thanks to y/n y/l/n.”

✧༺✎༻∞

James Corden - Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts ➺ reference video here!

The theme music plays as the camera cuts to James, Ewan, Niall, and y/n sitting at a table with a rotating top and a bunch of food laid on it.

“Okay. so let’s take a look at the food that we have here.” James proceeds to spin the top of the table to showcase the food, “We have a salmon smoothie. A beef tongue.”

Ewan sticks his tongue out and makes a noise causing y/n to laugh as she holds her napkin up to her face, “This is disgusting.”

“Bird saliva.” The audience yells in disgust and Niall makes a whiffing motion with his hands, “The smell just gets stronger and stronger.”

“A scorpion. Fish head. Hot sauce. “

“Is that safe to do hot sauce?” Ewan asks as he looks towards James, “We’re gonna find out.”

“And finally, bull penis.”

“Yay!” Y/n claps.

“So here’s how this works. Ewan and I will be asking questions to Niall and y/n. Now if someone on your team chooses not to answer their question, you both will have to eat the disgusting food. Have we got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, Niall-” y/n cuts in quickly, “I’m already mad.”

“You’re up first. Niall, I am going to giv eyou-”

Niall points, “Please don’t do that. My acid reflex will freak out.”

“Please don’t. Not the scorpion.”

“The salmon smoothie.” Y/n squels.

“Here is your question, So if you answer the question you don’t have to eat, if you don’t answer the qeustion, you both have to have a big glug of the salmon smoothie.” Niall laughs, “I don’t know what I’m more nervous about, the question or the smoothie.”

“Well, I’ve just seen the question and I think it might be the question. Niall, who is your least favorite member or One Direction?”

Niall swears but the bleep covers it as he goes to clink smoothies with y/n. Y/n looks at him, “I think you should drink, I am not your publicist, but I don’t know that you should.”

“I think I might and just take the daily mail hit tomorrow, and throw out a crap answer. I’m trying to help y/n.” The said girl laughs and hits him, “If it’ll help you out, I’ll drink it.”

“Don’t think of your teammate, think of your life.”

“What do you think, Nial are you going to go salmon-”

Y/n places the napkin around Niall’s neck to make a bib, “Yeah for future life, yeah, I think I will go with this.” The two pick up smoothies and drink them, well attempt to drink them.

James hands them spoons and they both put it in their mouths. Y/n immediately gags and goes to spit it in the trash, getting some in her hair. James and Ewan immediately burst into laughter as they watch the two.

Ewan looks at y/n, “Are you alright?”

“It is not so of the taste, it’s the texture. It;s like having salmon yogurt.” James looks at y/n, “Oh and there is some in the hair to keep for later. Right, so now y/n, you will ask your question to me.”

“Oh well, well, well.”

“Which would you like me and Ewan to have?”

“Have a look at the question first.” Niall leans over to help y/n, it was honestly like having a brother and sister team up agains someone.

“Oh, wow. Getting tactical.”

“Oh, he is going to eat. I know– Scorpion.” Y/n turns the table so the scorpion sits in the front of the two men on the other side.

“Scorpion. I think that is the easiest one.”

“Well, yeah, you say that until it is in your face.”

“Your question is, James, name one artist who you have turned down for carpool karaoke.” The crowd lets out a bunch of oos, “How long have you got?”

“Cheers mate,” James cheers with Ewan and the eat the scropion, seemingly without any problem.

“What is y/n going to eat?”

“I think I’m going for the tongue.”

“And it’s one each. You have to eat the whole tongue.” Y/n looks at him disbelief and he just shakes his head, “I’m just kidding.”

“Oh this is quite a cute one. Y/n you once said you had a favorite hockey player, Nico Hischier, is it true you might have a crush on the Swiss man?”

Y/n immediately blushes and places her head in her hands as everyone laughs, “Oh come on, this is an easy one.”

“Oh shit.” The bleep censors the word as y/n looks at the tongue, “Yes, it’s true. I do have a crush on Nico Hischier.”

The whole crowd goes wild and Niall playfully hits her on the arm, “Niall what would you like to give Ewan?”

“Ewan you’re up. Truthfully, all I’ve been thinking about is that saliva. Surely the question gets better.”

“It does. Sorry, boys.”

“Jeez, again, back to the bird saliva.”

Y/n looks at the boys, “How do they get it?” James and Ewan playfully try to mimic on what they think happens.

Niall pulls out the card and y/n reads it, immediately bursting into laughter, “This is the greatest question ever.”

The Irish man looks up at Ewan with a grin on his face, “Ewan, have you ever shit your pants?”

Everyone laughs uncontroloblly for at least 30 seconds, “The show is only an hour, Ewan.”

“I mean I could lie, there is only one or two people that would know.”

“I am really enjoying this.”

“Well, I guess, yeah.”

“Hand on, wait how old were you?”

“Well, I was very young at the time.”

“No, no there didn’t have any age in there, did it.” Ewan defends.

“Well, we’ve all technicaly shit our pants as babies.” Y/n looks at the man.

“That is all I was referring to. I might have shit my pants in the 90s one time.”

“Ewan McGregor. Spilling it.”

“Okay, Niall I am going to give you guys.”

“Please not the hot sauce.”

“Some beef tongue, are you ready. Okay.”

“I’m going to have to eat this, aren’t I?”

“Niall, you have dated both Selena Gomex adn Ellie Goulding. It is your last night on Earth, who would you rather spend it with?”

“Just it doesn’t hurt anyone.” Y/n says, “Y/n’s going ‘it doesn’t hurt anyone’.”

Niall places his arm on the girl’s chair, “I’m afraid it does, love.”

“The trouble is, is that it’s not relaly your last night so someone’s gonna be upset tomorrow.”

“Okay, I would, cause it’s the last night on Eart, Ellie is a big fan of planet Earth by David Attenborough so I would sit and watch that with her and for that reason, Ellie Goulding.”

“Y/n it is your turn, you now will ask me a question and select a food.”

“You know what, you guys seem so keen on the beef tongue, giving it to us time and time again, so we will get revenge. James, you are definetly going to eat that, so have you got your knife and for ready.”

“Yup.”

“Which Late Night Host do you prefer, Kimmel or Fallon?”

“That’s tricky. Oh, dear are we eating this?” The two bite into the tongue and y/n gags as she watches them.

“That was Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts. Big thanks to Y/n Y/l/n, Niall Horan, and Ewan McGregor, we’ll be right back, everybody!”

✧༺✎༻∞

Nico Hischier on Y/n Y/l/n on a random post-game interview

“So Nico, I hate to ask you about this but there’s been these videos floatinga round about y/n y/l/n talking about you, have you heard about this?”

Nico nods his head as he looks at the interviewer, “Yeah, actually I have. Jack actually showed me this video and let me tell you, that was the last thing I was expecting.”

“Everyone is dying to know after she came out and explicitly stated that she liked you, do you like her, or at least have a tiny crush on her?”

“Yeah, well you know, I haven’t actually met her so I can’t say I like her but I do think she’s cute and that’s all I’m going to say about this.”

The interviewer nods, “Thanks, Nico.”

#sunnylunespeaks #sunny lune writes #nico hischier #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier x you #singer!reader #fem!reader #nhl #hockey

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non-stop-imagines · 10 months

Text

Girl Almighty

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Black Driver!Reader

Summary: In which Oscar is his girlfriend's number one fan and advocate for getting onto the Formula 1 grid.

Word Count: ~3.3k words and a lot of smau

Warning: Twitter environment, mentions of food, crying, parents (it's happy though 😁), goofy friendship fun with various other drivers, Logan being an Oscar and reader stan lowkey

A/N: Like all the other requests, this one was just the best to make. I had to do such a deep dive into Oscar Piastri history because I wanted this idea to really work. This is actually the first of the "drabble" requests I have received so this is the first time you guys are seeing how I'm gonna approach those requests. So if you do ever just request a general "drabble", no specific prompt, I'm gonna put the story to a song that I think fits, unless you want to suggest a song. I do have an 83 hour playlist on Spotify, so if you don't have a song in mind that's fine by me 😁😁😁 Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, especially after Oscar's DNF today, I think this little bit of joy is needed. Love you all! 💖💛💖💛

A/N 2: All of the pictures used for the smau portions are all from pinterest and are not my own product.

Masterlist

__________________~♥★♥~_________________

2020; Start of the FIA Formula 3 Season

“Okay, breath, Oscar. You can do this.” The pep talk is whispered from Oscar’s mouth as he mentally encourages himself to walk over to you, chatting away with other drivers as you guys wait for the driver meeting to begin. He starts to take a step, watching his feet and taking another deep breath, but when he looks back up again he's stopped in his tracks. It was like a spotlight shone on just you, teeth visible and accompanying the exuberant laugh coming from you, smiling glossy lips and hair half up in 2 fluffy ponytails. Everything around you came back into view when he watched you reach a hand out to push the shoulder of your teammate, Theo, after something he said. Oscar could only watch, waiting until the audience you had around you tapered off one by one.

“That’s her, right?” Oscar jumps at Logan’s arm finding its way around his shoulders.

“Yeah, that’s her.” Oscar practically sighs, cursing Theo who seems to linger around you a little longer.

“She looks different. A really good different.” Logan keeps his attention on you as he speaks, so he’s caught off guard by the elbow Oscar throws into his side. “Alright, man. She’s yours.” He removes his arm from his friend so he could rub his hurting side.

"No, that's not-" Oscar's hands run through his hair to express the conflict in his mind. How, yes he wanted you to be his because he has had a crush on you since you both were 10, but also that he was trying real hard to not make a fool of himself because you've only met twice, once when you guys were 10 and once when you were 14. But both of your rises up the karting ranks, champions in your own rights, all the way up to your F3 debut has been public. So it wouldn't be crazy for him to tell you he remembers you, right?

"Well, whatever it is, now's your chance. She's alone." Logan briefly points your direction and sure enough, there you were, tapping and scrolling on your phone, beautiful face in a neutral position that made your lips pout.

"You know what? Maybe I don't-" Oscar starts to back track, stunned by you, but Logan turns him back around and starts to push him over there.

"No, you've been talking about this for a week straight. If you guys aren't sucking face by the end of the month, I'm writing a formal complaint." Once considered to be within earshot, Logan starts talking about something random, something that goes in one of Oscar's ears and out the other, his heartbeat pounding in his head as he gets close. "Oh hey, I'll be right back I, uh, there's something over there…" Logan gives Oscar one last pat on the back and walks off. For Oscar, the world went silent when you looked up at him, enticing brown eyes putting a shame to his own, lips starting to curl into a polite grin until you get a good look at him, and tilt your head as you visibly began thinking about where you've seen him before. Oscar clears his throat.

"Hi, uh, I don't- I'm, uh, I'm Oscar." He holds out his hand for you to shake. Your hand is nice in his, soft despite calluses that have developed from years of driving, but fit like a puzzle piece. He forced himself to keep his eyes on yours, though it was hard for him to look at you, an angel among men, without doing something drastic.

"Y/n." Your hands linger in each others for a moment after the greeting, but once you pull back your hand you cross your arms and bring an amused smile to your face.

"I don't know if you remember me. We've, um, raced each other a couple times before…" Oscar had no idea what to do with his hands. He wanted to touch you, so bad. Wrap his arms around your waist and push the bit of curly hair that escaped to your shoulder back to its place and wait for it to happen again just so he can be as close as possible to you. Instead he settles with rubbing the nape of neck with one hand and the other waving mildly as he spoke.

"Oh, I remember you. But a couple times…I only remember when we were 10. Karting in Australia. I remember because I lost badly to you." You smile and he melts, and your laugh almost makes him miss what you said.

"Wait, when we were 10, you finished second." He copies you and crosses his arms, that being his best bet of keeping his hands to himself.

"Okay, yeah. By like 4 seconds. That's quite the gap." You look down to pick at your nails, but then jerk your head back up as Oscar's words come back to you. "Okay, so 10, but when was the second time?"

"We were 14. Australia again." He uncrosses his arms and brings his hands to his hips when he sees the confusion on your face. "You won! You beat my ass, actually. By nearly 8 seconds. Logan got third." You thought about it for a moment, eyebrows scrunching as memories moved through your brain, but it was obvious the moment you remembered because a large grin that revealed a dimple in your left cheek spread across your face.

"Okay I remember that. I also remember you doing, like, everything you could for me after. I asked you why and you simply said 'Because you won.' and I asked no more questions after that." You chuckle, bringing a hand to your forehead. "It didn't help that I had a major crush on you, too. I was on cloud nine that entire weekend."

"Oh, you had a crush on me?" The snarkiness of his inquiry far from matched the speed of his heart and the drop in temperature of his hands.

"Don't make fun of me, okay? I was 14, and apparently had a thing for Australians with floofy hair." You motioned at his hair, then replaced your hand on your hip. "I've since gotten over it, but I guess you'll be delighted, and me thoroughly embarrassed, to hear that you and Ashton Irwin from 5 Seconds of Summer took turns being my hand when I used to practice kissing." Something got into you in that moment, where it was more important for you to let it be known to Oscar the intensity of your old crush on him, like it would have any influence on your current curiosity.

"Oh. Ha. Well, the feeling was mutual. But, I mean, what boy wouldn't have a crush on the girl who beat them at karting?" Oscar shrugs with his arms still crossed, head tilting toward his left shoulder with the movement.

"It's only natural." You both giggle at the interaction, the words and the timing.

"Well, I think Logan, Frederik and I are trying to figure out something to do tonight, you know after all of the media festivities. Would you want to come? And Theo, too. I don't know what you usually do pre-race weekend, but…" Oscar trails off as he uncrosses his arms and places them in his pocket, looking everywhere but you, subconsciously looking for Logan so he knows what direction to go if he needs to make a quick getaway.

"I think I can find some time to hang out with a couple of old fans." Your smile nearly knocks Oscar off his feet, literally, because after you accepted his invitation, he heard Logan calling for him, to which he automatically started moving in that direction making him stumble over his own feet, but luckily he catches himself.

"Okay, good-uh, cool. I'll, um…I'll text you the plans once we figure them out." He starts to jog away, confident in what had just taken place.

"You'll need my number for that." You stayed in place, arms crossed, smiling when Oscar turns around to jog back to you.

"You are correct." Oscar gives you a beaming smile as he reaches for your phone while pulling out his.

drivetimeyn

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drivetimeyn Seasons Greetings 😌🎄 (you know, cause it's the end of the season and it's also Christmas and-) Oh yeah, congrats, Oscar 😚

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oscarpiastri You took a lot of pictures of me eating > drivetimeyn It was the only time you were sitting still 🧍‍♂️ swisssauber Who else is gonna miss this group? 🥲 theopouchaire21 See you next year, teammate 😎 > drivetimeyn Hope everyone is prepared for more shenanigans 😼

> swisssauber HAHA JK premaprincess Yn is the best thing to come into these boys lives. Convince me otherwise > oscarpiastri We agree 🌞

2021; FIA Formula 2 Season

drivetimeyn

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drivetimeyn Happy Birthday to my Pretty Podium Pal ❤️ Hope you have a wonderful day, my love

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oscarpiastri I get to see you later, that alone makes this a great birthday 🥰 Love you, baby 😘 > drivetimeyn Love you too, honey cake ☺️ > oscarpiastri That's new robertshwartzman Thank you again for those cookies! Keep an eye out for a request around my birthday 🤩 f2freak ...my love? Who- when... lecooleclerc And everyone thought I was crazy 😔 prettypiastri These two are too freaking cute, I can't take it 😵‍💫😫

drivetimeyn

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drivetimeyn Thank you for inviting your biggest fan. So proud of you! Have fun up in the big leagues next year 💙🩷

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oscarpiastri My stunning forever +1 💗 😍 You should be moving up with me but at least now I can watch you be great 🤩 naomischiff I feel like I'm always instastalking you but you're always stunning and this is no different. LOVE! 💗🤎💗 oscarnyngoals The way these two can step out, EAT, and leave no crumbs is impeccable✨ > oscarpiastri It's all Yn, I'm just an accessory > drivetimeyn You're usually more than an accessory, but when you are an accessory, you're the best one😘 ferrariyn I don't know what I'll do with these two not on the same grid

2022; Your 2nd Formula 2 Season, Oscar's Alpine Reserve Season

"Hey, baby. Did you just get home?" You wave to one last person as you leave the Alfa Romeo facility in Zurich, harshly inhaling as you step out into the nippy mid-October Swiss air.

"Yes, after a long day in the sim. I see you're just leaving, too. It's, like, 7pm there, right?" Oscar props his phone on the bottle of cooking oil next to him at enough of a distance so you can see most of him while he's cooking his dinner.

"If it 6pm in Enstone, theennn…." You flash a bright cheeky smile at your sarcasm as you spot your car and head over to it.

"I am not afraid to hang up." Oscar chuckles, briefly looking at the phone while his hands are occupied sautéing vegetables.

"Yes you are, you love me too much." You unlock your car and quickly get in, recoiling from the slight relief that you got from the cold temperature outside. "You also know I could beat you in a fight." You start up your car and allow it to warm up, placing your phone in the holder on the dashboard and removing your coat to toss it in the seat next to you.

"Correct on both points." He pushes his phone back slightly to open up the counter so he had somewhere to place the package of sausages. "You had a couple of workouts today?"

"And a quick sim session and, uh, a meeting. With Fred." You put your car in drive and pull out of the parking spot that you had backed into.

"You were going to talk to him today weren't you? How did that go?" Oscar was fully invested in what you had to say, to the point where he turned off the burners on his stove and sat down on a stool at the counter.

"Well," You chuckle sarcastically thinking about the interaction, trying to bring yourself to talk about it. "It wasn't bad, just…disappointing." You sigh, looking left and right before leaving the Alfa Romeo campus and entering the main road.

"Oh no," One thing Oscar has always done was sympathize with you whenever you felt a strong emotion. You were happy, he was ecstatic. You were mad, he was furious. So when he heard the annoyance and sadness in your chuckle and sigh, he wished he could jump through the screen to comfort you and ring the neck of whoever made you feel that way, which seems to be Fred Vassuer at the moment.

"I asked about the possibility of being a reserve driver or something for Alfa next year. He wasn't rude or anything, I think he actually liked the idea, but in the end he just told me to keep my head down and focus on racing. He also said that while it is nice to be up with the F1 teams, it would be a waste of my driving talents to not be racing on a grid next year, so I think that was his way of telling me it's F2 again next season." You flick on your turn signal and move into a turn lane, slightly more irritated than usual at the slow driver that was in front of you.

"That's stupid." That was all Oscar could say as he set down the phone and ran his fingers through his hair.

"But it was weird because, the way Fred was talking, it was like he had no control over what happens once the season is done." When Oscar picks up his phone again he couldn't help but calm down slightly at your driving concentration face that occasionally turns towards him. "Also, he has never been so adamant about me doing something as much as he was about me staying in a position where I can drive, even if it is F2 again. So, I guess I'll go with it, but I'm not happy about it." You stop at a light and lean back into your seat. You both sat in tense silence, Oscar waiting to see if you had anything else, and you waiting to see if Oscar had any words of wisdom or mutual anger.

"Let's go to Paris." Oscar's words shocked you, even more than the honk behind you that signaled for you to go before anyone got too mad.

"What?" You were tempted to pull over so you could watch Oscar's face as he spoke, to see if he was just kidding you, but you kept on heading home.

"Next week. I'll be at the Viry HQ all week next week, but I'm off during the weekend, and I'm sure you are too. I'll fly you out there. You need to decompress from all of this." He stands up from the stool to head back to his stove, completely serious about his suggestion.

"Really? I love Paris." You start eyeing fast food restaurants the closer you got to home. Maybe it would be too bad to stop for food.

"I know, we'll go to that little café you like. Go to every park we can find. Go to the Louvre so you can look at the art and I can watch you look at the art." He smiles to himself as he cuts up a sausage to toss into another pan.

"Why not just look at the art?" Your stomach rumbles as the smell from a restaurant wafts into your car as you wait at another red light.

"Because, I think it's much more interesting to watch art look at art, and I think myself lucky to be able to do so." You knew this light was long, so you had enough time to stare at Oscar after his cheesy pick up line.

"That was terrible, but…I'll agree to the Paris weekend. As long as there are more jokes like that." You start to drive again as the light turns green.

"No promises. Bad jokes are my MO." Oscar pours the cooked vegetables onto a white plate. "On another note, I see your eyes looking that the restaurant while you drive. I was there when you were cooking your meal prep a couple of days ago. Get home and eat that so you can go to bed."

"Fine." You finally stop searching for a good restaurant and set your sights on home, which was your original plan, but you liked it when Oscar instructed you to take care of yourself. So, home you went, you and your boyfriend blabbing each other's ears off.

oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri Had to help my baby ✨decompress ✨

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drivetimeyn Thank you, my love ❤️ Definitely recharged and ready to finish out the season 👊🏿 logansargeant Where was my invite? > theopouchaire21 Yeah me too? > drivetimeyn Please, children, mommy and daddy had to take some time to be alone 😚 > awaywego SEE IM NOT WEIRD FOR CALLING THEM MOM AND DAD theoandynbesties We all deserve someone that invests as much energy in us as Oscar does in Yn

2023; Your 3rd Formula 2 Season, Oscar's 1st Formula 1 Season ; Spa- Belgian GP

You park your car in front of the first place sign in parc ferme and quickly and somewhat clumsily remove the steering wheel, climb out your car and replace it, hands shaking from nerves and exhaustion after a hard fought race in the rain. You, first, place your hands on the halo, taking a few deep breaths and grounding yourself to the present, something necessary for you after each race because for you, racing is an out of body experience, something where you are a heightened version of yourself and at a certain point it feels like your watching from a third person view. Once back to the present, you go to get weighed and take note of the cheering. Loud cheering. Much louder than when you normally win. You turn and see your team excited for you and you’re startled when you feel Theo run up and hug you tight once he gets off the scale, yelling something that you didn’t quite catch because he still had his helmet on. You spot your boyfriend and head his direction, confused at the wide smile he had on his face.

“Do you know what you just did?” He had his hands on your shoulders, but you felt a third one touch your shoulder blade when Arthur, who got third in the Sprint, came up behind you.

“Congratulations. You deserve it after the drive you just had. P5 to P1.” You were looking at everyone wide eyed. Did you just do what you think you did? You knew you were ahead in the championship, only needing a few more points to be considered champion because no amount of points would allow anyone to surpass you.

“Did I do it? Drivers’ Championship?” Your voice was light and airy as your gaze switched between Oscar and Charles, who you just then realized was there.

“You did it baby! I knew you could!” You stood in shock, grateful Oscar’s hands were at your waist because you needed to stay steady. As soon as it sunk in you wrapped your arms around Oscar’s neck and started bawling. You worked so hard to get here, tiring yourself out mentally, physically and emotionally. You felt like you were going nowhere but now here you are, your name etched into the history books forever. Oscar consoled you, rubbing your back, and then sent you in the direction of your parents, to whom you continued to bawl on. Nearly every person you encountered received tears somewhere on their person, but luckily by podium time you had no more tears left, so you were able to enjoy your champagne celebration without the embarrassment of crying, Oscar watching happily below until he received a tap on his shoulder.

“I expected nothing less from Yn. She has been amazing since you guys were in F3.” Charles pats Oscar’s back as he turns his attention back to the podium where you and his brother were knocking champagne bottles before taking a swig.

“I know. I’m glad she got this chance but, I can’t help but be pissed because even with all of this,” Oscar waves his hand at the excitement. “She has yet to receive any offers. Even from her own driving academy.”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll start rolling in now. You’ve just got to be patient.” Charles takes off after that to get one more chance to see his brother before getting ready for the Qualifying day, leaving Oscar to stew.

“To hell with patience.” Oscar says under his breath before pulling out his phone and walking to go meet you with your parents, taping something angrily out on his phone.

“So, Oscar, before we let you go we wanted to ask about the tweet you sent out after Yn’s Sprint Race win that secured the driver’s championship for her. What was going on in that moment as you were tweeting that out?” Oscar looked slowly, wide eyed toward his PR manager who shot daggers through him with her eyes, urging him to not speak which for him wasn’t an option. He was finally given the platform to truly speak on this, but he had to be careful.

“Um, I’ll just answer this briefly because I do have to get going, but…Yn has proved herself time and time again how great of a driver she is. Today was the ultimate testament to that. So it’s up to the teams now, seeing who’s gonna take that leap. Thank you.” Oscar is quickly ushered away, quickly heading back to the McLaren motorhome to recoup before qualifying.

“You just had to, huh?” His PR manager taps her foot and she scrolls and types something out quickly.

“Yes. And it felt amazing.” Oscar lays his head on the tall counter next to him, smiling like a clown down toward the floor before turning to the woman next to him, who lets a satisfied grin flash briefly on her face.

“Fine. I guess it was for a good cause. But please, warn me next time.” The exhausted woman pleads with the smiling boy, twisting her phone in her hand as she waits for the greatly needed confirmation.

“Yes ma’am.” He wraps an arm around her and hugs her close, to which she pulls back since he was still sweaty from the third practice session.

“Now go to the debriefing meeting before you get in trouble for being late, too.” Oscar does as he is told, jogging off to the computer filled room to first be scolded before the important pre-qualifying meeting got underway.

drivetimeyn

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drivetimeyn I love my hot boyfriend. That's it. That's the post. ❤️

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oscarpiastri It's an honor to be called hot by someone as lovely as you, gorgeous 😉 > drivetimeyn Sorry, I'm taken by the loser in the crazy colored helmet ✋🏿💅🏿 landonorris We all have our own opinion 😐 > oscarpiastri It's okay, Lando. Everyone knows you have a thing for me 😗 > landonorris Yn, come get ur mans rn ynonthegrid They act like a middle aged couple that been married for years but still act like horny teenagers and I truly wouldn't have it any other way

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f1 Yn Yln, recently crowned FIA F2 Drivers' Champion, to drive alongside Zhou Guanyu at Alfa Romeo in 2024

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alfaromeostake Welcome to the team! > drivetimeyn Excited to keep rising with Sauber ❤️🖤 zhouguanyu24 Couldn't be more excited to have you as a teammate > drivetimeyn Next season, we're going feral 🤪 futurechampyn We all know Yn's driving got her here, but can we give an honorable mention to the leg work Oscar did? Boy put his rep on the line and would gladly do it again oscarpiastri See you on the grid, Love ♥️ > drivetimeyn Let me know how my rear wing looks, okay babe? > oscarpiastri Won't need to, it always looks great 🤩

#Spotify #black reader #request #f1 x black!reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x black!reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x black!reader #f1 fake text #f1 smau #f1 imagines

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gothic-thoughts · 3 months

Text

Slow on the Internet

(idek how i found this pic of him but im SO glad this shit exists😭)

(AGED UP) Yuji Itadori x Black Fem Reader Fluff

Streamer!Yuuji, Shy!Reader, RoommateAU, Friends2Lovers

CW: oblivious Yuuji 😭😭, yuuji talking to his twitch chat, reader speaks some Japanese 🤝🏾 Yuuji speaks some English, not proofread

Word Count: 1701

any Japanese is written in Romaji and confirmed by DeepL

It was 10 pm, Itadori was sitting in his gaming headphones on his stylish armchair, playing a popular game while Spotify was quietly playing a mellow song in the background.

"Guys, the stream's gonna be a little quiet, I don't want to wake my roommate."

Itadori tried not to make too much noise, talking quietly to his audience.

- Which one?

- Is it (Y/n)??

- Megumi or the American girl you brought on a while ago?

- The girl??

"Yes, I’m talking about (Y/n). Megumi's out for the night. Uh, for those new to stream, a couple streams ago..." Yuuji laughs into his hand, "Like 3 streams ago, I forced my roommate, (Y/n), to make a... commentary vid with me."

- You should force her back fr 👀👀

- Bring her back, yall were cute

- You guys chemistry was adorable, u sure she's just a roomie??👀👀

He laughed at the comments, a little embarrassed at the idea of having chemistry with his roommate, but it was sweet of them to think that. He shook his head and laughed, trying to brush it off as a friendly relationship.

"Shut up, it’s a normal amount of chemistry! I like to think we have a cool dynamic.”

- UR TELLING ME U DON'T LIKE HER??

- denial isn’t healthy, Itadori

- but does she want to STAY ur friend??

It was flattering how invested they were in a relationship between him and (Y/n). He wasn't sure what his chat was implying, surely they were teasing him. There was a little part of him that liked and even agreed with his chat's implications. He was glad they were taking so much interest in his friendship with (Y/n). It was sweet.

"I- what are you guys saying?" He laughed nervously, his cheeks red.

- THAT SHE LIKES U DUH

- U LIKE EACH OTHER??

- ITADORI UR FUMBLING

"You really think my roommate likes me? Really?"

- YES

- The only she could make it more obvious was if she kissed you like r u srs 😭😭

- Does she take or borrow ur stuff a bunch?

"Oh yeah, all the time." He laughed, nodding. "Like she'll use my body soap and won’t give it back unless I ask. Sometimes she'll even just take my clothes and leave them somewhere in her heya (room); sore wa wakaranai (I don't get that)."

- Bro cuz she likes u

- YUUJI WHAT

- She got it bad too. Both of u do

- AND U FRIENDZONED HER??

His heart was beginning to race a little as his chat spoke and said all these things. He laughed nervously, but he didn't deny any of their comments. He wondered if all these things actually were happening because she did have feelings for him.

"No, no I didn't... did I?"

- How do u curve a goddess BY ACCIDENT?

- Rejecting someone by accident is crazy

- She is fine asf lowkey

He shivered a little as his chat continued, making him begin to feel a little bad for keeping his feelings to himself and even stupid when realizing that he wasn’t reading her feelings correctly.

"I don't know, I mean.... it never crossed my mind that she really liked me. Maybe... but she just did small things."

He rubbed the back of his neck, not sure what to say. "I didn’t think she’d like me, I thought she was just doing it cuz she’s still fairly new to Japan. Aside from the fact that she’s out of my league."

- is it because she's older than you?

- I dont even think ur age gap is even that big smh

- how old is she anyway? U look about the same age

- Ik ur 21 but how old is (Y/n)?

"How old? She's 23, but still..."

He rubbed the back of his neck, his face red. He just didn't know what to say so he just laughed nervously. They kept describing her and it made him feel bad, thinking that he had been doing this to her, hopefully she still liked him so he could try again.

- ONLY 2 YEARS AND U STRESSIN BOUT AN AGE GAP???

- If you don't GO CONFESS LIKE AN ADULT😭😭

- Ur both young adults so age is just a number fr

- Yuuji, don't piss me off 🙄😤

Itadori couldn't help but laugh the more he read, unable to deny the comments that his chat was making. It felt like his chat had read his mind.

"Okay okay, wakattyo (i get it)! She likes me, I might like her, age isn't an issue. What am I supposed to do though?"

- Talk to her wat 😭😭

- UH TALK TO HER??

- Ask her out duh.

He laughed and read the comments. His chat was making it so simple.

"Come on guys, it can't be that simple. I live with her! What if she doesn't feel the same and things end up being awkward?"

Itadori jumps out of his chair, his heart beating out of his chest when he hears the only other person in the house knock on his bedroom door. Shit. Of course. He then realized he had his stream on the whole time so she definitely heard everything. He got up and walked over to his door. He cracked open the door, peeking through with his cheeks still red.

“Hey, Yuu.”

"Hey... did you hear nandemo (anything)?"

"Hear what?" (Y/n) furrowed her eyebrows, "You on the phone?”

He paused and smiled, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I was just making sure I wasn’t being too, um, loud. I thought you were asleep.”

“I was, but I woke up wanting something sweet. I'm running to the konbini, nani ka hoshi mono wa?"

“Yeah, sure.” He paused, thinking of something, "Can you get me some ichigo pocky?"

“Honto ni? I was gonna get the same thing.”

He laughed, her answer surprised him. "Really?"

“Yea. Alright, I'll be right back."

He smiles, waiting for her to come back. He had so many thoughts, so much to process about the stuff his chat said and his own feelings for her. He waited for her to come back with the strawberry pocky.

- Well???

- Did she seem to like u??

- What she say?

“There's really no reason for me not to like her, ya know? I'm starting to think I like her back, really like her, she’s so sweet." He rubbed his neck, feeling guilty, "You guys were right, I've been rejecting her by accident. When she gets back, I want to tell her."

- YAAY

- LETSSGOOO

- THATS MY BOY

- GAMER BF + SHY GF FTW

The comments made him smile even brighter. The chat called her his girlfriend, but he didn't want to get too ahead of himself. He could only hope she'd respond positively.

"Shut up guys, I'm not her boyfriend.... well, yet hopefully."

20 minutes later, she walks into his room with snacks and a few drinks in a bag. He didn't expect her to come back so fast but it made him grateful. He was smiling wide as he took off his headphones and paused his game again, realizing how cute she was when she was just being herself. (Y/n) pauses in his doorway with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Are--” She lowered her voice, “Are you streaming?”

"Uh, heh yeah. Uh, my chat they made me see something. It has to do with you."

“Oh god...” She chuckles and waves shyly at the camera, walking over, “They don't want me on another stream, do they?”

His chat was blowing up with comments, excited at the appearance of his roommate again. "Shut up guys, I swear. It wasn't planned. Anyway, you don't have to come near the camera.”

“I don’t, good; I was freaking out already.” She laughs.

“Do you mind if I keep streaming while we talk?"

“Uh... sure, why?” She hands him a soda and the boxes of pocky then backs out of the camera, “You making me nervous~”

"Yeah, sorry. They've really grown to like you, so they're excited to see you again."

“I was only in one stream!”

"I know, I know, but they really liked you. So every time you show up again, they get really excited because they love seeing more of you."

“I didn’t know I had fans; is that what you wanted to tell me?”

He sighed, "No, it's not. There's something else."

“Mkay...?”

"Alright.” He takes a deep breath and stands, hoping he doesn’t make a fool of himself, “So chat made me realize that I’m a biggest idiot in the world. I... I like you, (Y/n).”

“You're...” (Y/n) chuckles uncomfortably, “You’re joking? Kore wa jyooku desu ka?”

"No, no. I mean it. They helped me realize that you liked me so I wanted to tell you that.”

“But I thought you didn't like me.”

"Yeah, well, I thought I didn't, I realized it after they pointed out how we treat each other. And they were right.”

“So you were rejecting me... by accident?!”

“I just thought you'd stick around me cuz you’re still a little new to Japan!"

“Yuuji, I've lived here for like 5 months now!”

“Yeah, but I thought, like... I don’t know!”

“God, you be so clueless sometimes.” She sighs deeply, “Since I know now, finish your stream and we can eat the snacks and maybe, uh, eiga o miru?"

Itadori froze. “Movie? You... want to watch a movie with me?"

“Seems like the only thing to do this late at night," She chuckles, "Everything but the convenience store is closed this late."

"Hell yeah, I’d love to!”

(Y/n) laughs, “Mkay, lemme know when you’re done.”

(Y/n) leaves his room with the bag of her sweets and closes the door. Yuuji sits back down in his chair with a wide smile on his face as he starts playing his game again. He was so focused on finishing it for his stream and going to watch the movie that he wasn’t reading the chat’s confused and riled comments. He finally looked over at them and laughed, pausing the game:

- ITADORI IF U DON'T END THE STREAM

- GO BRO

- END STREAM

- STREAM TMR TF

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

(a/n): unfortunately not sponsored by strawberry pocky cuz 🤤🤤

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #x black reader #black reader #x black fem reader #black writers #jujutsu kaisen #black fem reader #yuuji x reader #jjk yuuji #yuuji itadori x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #yuuji fluff #itadori yuuji fluff #yuuji itadori fluff #yuji x reader #itadori yuuji

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thefallennightmare · 7 months

Text

Miracle-twenty two

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: The moment you've all been waiting for. I know I teased masked sex in this one BUT it's going to have to wait for the next chapter. TWO CHAPTERS LEFT; I REPEAT TWO CHAPTERS LEFT!

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse @loverofagoodbeard @jay02bo @niicoleleigh @tearfallpixie @cupidsdreams

"Noah, I swear to the gods, put me down," I giggled while smacking his back.

He ignored my protest and pathetic attempt to break free from his hold as he opened the door to his room, kicking it closed behind him. My upside down view was of his round ass, which I tried hard not to take a bite out off, so I wasn't able to see what was scattered around the room and bed until Noah gently let me fall to my feet.

I brushed my hair out of my face while narrowing my eyes at him. "You can't manhandle me to get what you want, you know."

He scoffed while raising a brow. "Says the girl that just jerked me off in front of the guys."

I pursed my lips, a red hue covering my cheeks, and when I went to retort back with a witty comeback, I noticed the scene in front of me.

Behind Noah, who was smirking like an idiot, were a couple bouquets of flowers; one on his dresser, one on the table next to his bed, and one on his desk next to his computer. All black dahlia's, my favorite.

"Davis told me that back in high school you used to be obsessed with black dahlia's," Noah said as he watched me fiddle with one between my fingers.

Tears burned at the back of my eyes but I refused to let them slip.

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. "After the murder; call me grotesque but I'm a huge true crime nerd."

Noah smiled warmly at me when I gazed over to him. "When did you do all this? We've been together all night.

"I set it up when you ran to grab the pizza's. Although, I was hoping to have you up here a lot sooner. The playlist I made is almost over."

"Playlist?" I questioned, now hearing the soft tune of music play from his computer.

Bending over the desk, I scrolled through the entire Spotify playlist he created and titled it Angel. It had all of my favorite songs and of course, some Bad Omens songs. Between the flowers and playlist, my heart was swooning with such an intense feeling that I had to grip the chair in front of me to steady myself. Why did I feel like this? Why was this unknown feeling so intense that I couldn't breathe?

Love, you idiot. You fucking love Noah Sebastian.

I almost stumbled on my feet when the realization slammed through me like a fucking truck. There always was this sensation that lurked at the depths of my heart and soul that knew I loved Noah. With everything that's happened the last few weeks, however, clouded over those sensations until recently. The more time I spent with now, the intense those sensations vibrated throughout my veins.

"You didn't have to do all this, Noah," my bottom lip trembled.

He cupped my cheek, thumb grazing over the trembling lip. "Yes, I did. You've been going through so much lately and while I don't know what's going on in your mind exactly."

Noah's fingers tapped against my forehead causing me to let out a small laugh.

"I do know that you needed something to lift your spirits," he finished then motioned to the bed behind me.

Looking over my shoulder, a gasp fell from my lips when I saw a small velvet box on the bed, next to a piece of paper that folded perfectly in half. Noah quickly hushed my panic with a kiss to the side of my head when he noticed my shoulders went stiff.

"It's not a ring, don't worry," he muttered.

Good.

Because I only realized I loved him, the last thing I needed right now was a proposal. But that didn't mean I was opposed to it down the road.

With shaky hands, I opted in picking up the piece of paper first and seeing what it was made my stomach flip repeatedly.

"A plane ticket?" I peered up at Noah.

"You're coming with to Europe, angel. Wether its to work for Bad Omens or to be with me. I'm not letting you stay back," Noah's tucked a piece of hair behind my ears, fingers lingering on the skin of my neck.

Guilt pulled at my heart. "I think I have no choice but to work for you. I have to save up some money if I want to find a place. Although, I'm not sure how I'm going to afford anything over in Europe. Maybe I should stay back and find a job here-."

Noah hushed my ramblings with a fiery kiss, hand burying into my hair while the other grasped at the back of my neck to pull me into his chest. The plane ticket fluttered to the ground as I grabbed a fist full of his shirt and I had to stand on my toes to lean up into the kiss.

"For once, angel. Stop worrying about what you have to do in order to survive. I'm here now, let me help you with things," he muttered against my lips.

"But I-."

Once again, Noah cut off my words with his lips but this kiss wasn't intense as the last one.

"Please let me do this, okay?" He leaned back so he could look into my eyes. "Let me take care of you the way I should have from the start."

The part of me that was used to fighting help or fighting to survive screamed to decline, tell Noah to fuck off and I didn't need his help. But learning to change and heal from the trauma of my past made me eventually nod. I needed to learn to accept help because there were something I couldn't do on my own.

"Okay," I breathed. "But I still think I should start looking for an apartment. It might take a while of me working to save up."

Noah grabbed the other gift and placed it in my hands. "This might help."

I raised a curious brow at him. "What is it?"

"That's the whole concept of a gift. You open it and see," he urged me on with a nod.

I smacked his hand away as he tried to open the box for me and when I saw what was inside; I was even more confused.

"A key?" I wondered while picking it up out of the box. "What's this for?"

Noah rubbed the back of his neck."Uh, shit. I had this whole thing planned in my head but now that you're standing in front of me, I'm nervous."

My heart hammered against my chest as I waited for him to find the words he needed to say, still clutching the key tight in my hand. I knew what he was going to ask and my brain was screaming the answer already before he even asked.

With his hand in mine, the thumb that had the angel wings tattoo rubbing across the back of my hand, Noah locked his eyes with mine.

"Move in with me, angel."

The words stumbled out in one large garbled mess, and Noah cursed. "Fuck, this was a lot easier when I practiced it in my head."

Through my own nerves, I couldn't help but giggle at how adorable he was in this moment. From the second I opened the small box, I knew what he wanted to ask me but I was still very on the fence about it.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? We're going to be with each other all the time at home and at work? Won't you get sick of me?"

The corner of Noah's lips curled up in a smile. "You said home."

Fuck.

I bit the inside of my cheek to hide my own smile. "You know what I mean."

He pulled me down to sit on his bed with him and brough my legs into his lap, fingers grazing over the bare skin of my thighs. The small action did so much to calm my racing heart.

"There's no way I could get sick of you. Having you with me when I wake up in the morning or go to sleep at the end of a long day makes whatever issues we may have down the road worth it. It makes sense if you think about it. Why would I have you go find a place of your own when Jolly and I have all this extra space?"

My eyes widened. "Oh, please tell me you talked to Jolly about this? I don't want him to feel left out or what if he thinks we're going to kick him out?"

"Jolly is fine with it," Noah reassured me by pulling out his phone to show me the text thread between him and Jolly.

Of course, he was telling the truth. Jolly even called him out for not asking sooner. But when I watched Noah swipe out of the messages, I got a peak at the background on his phone and my cheeks flushed with a blazing heat. It was a picture of me, one that I posted on my Only Fans; the one of mean in their Bad Omens shirt in the tour bus bathroom.

"Noah Sebastian!" I scolded. "Why the fuck is that your background?!"

I jumped into his lap to snatch the phone from him hoping to change the background. Noah laughed while one hand kept the phone away from quite a distance and his other arm snaked around my back to keep me in place.

"It's fucking hot, angel." Noah shrugged so matter-of-factly.

"What if someone sees it?" I seethed trying to reach for the phone again. "Well, Folio's already seen those but still."

"Don't remind me," Noah grumbled, dropping his phone on his bed.

The grip on me turned possessive and for a moment, I stopped trying to grab his phone and instead, cupped Noah's face.

"You have no reason to be jealous. I deleted the page but we both know those pictures are out there. It was something I knew would happen when I started the page."

"I know," he eventually sighed.

"Why do you even want that picture as your background? You can't see my face," I wondered.

Noah's eyes darkened as he licked his lips. "Maybe you should take another one for me, this time where I can see your gorgeous face."

"Hm," I hummed while brushing my nose across his. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"You don't even know."

My squeal of laughter echoed around the room when Noah flipped us on the bed so he was leaning over me, digging his hips into mine. A mixture between a moan and a whine fell from my lips and I grasped at his hips so I could keep him close. He was still wearing his sweats from earlier so I could still feel the hard definition of his hardening cock. With his face buried in the crook of my neck, Noah breathed me in while leaving pepper light kisses everywhere.

"You said home," he repeated his words form earlier.

"Yes," I breathed out a moan when his cock slide over the folds of my pussy.

I was still turned on from our little under the blanket action earlier and with everything he was doing right now; I was minutes away from coming undone.

"So you'll stay?"

Noah pulled away so he could gaze down at me, hair falling into his eyes. I gently brushed it away so I could get a good look of his face to see if he truly meant and understood what he was asking of me. This wasn't something he could take back, or well he could but it would mean the end of our relationship. That wasn't something I wanted.

But through the dark depths of his eyes, I could see that Noah meant every part of his question.

Leaning up so my lips ghosted over his, I smiled. "Only if you change your background."

"It's a fucking deal, angel," Noah said before crashing his lips to mine.

We both moaned into the kiss, starved for the desire that's been clawing at our insides for weeks. It's been an unspoken rule between us that even though we've fooled around, we still haven't had sex yet. Neither of us knew why we were waiting so long to jump over that hurdle but now that the future was bright and clear of any more obstacles, we were ready.

I was ready.

Noah's large hand spread across the skin of my stomach as he slipped it underneath my shirt, fingers pulling at the waistband of my pants, a silent question.

"Please," I begged, raising my hips up to meet his.

He made quick work of shedding me of my pants then my shirt, me now laying underneath him in just a pair of black panties. Sheer darkness filled the whites of his eyes as he cocked his head at me.

"You weren't wearing a bra all night?"

I shrugged innocently. "Oops."

Noah's savageness poured out of him through his kiss as he attacked my lips once more and now it was me who slipped him off his shirt and sweats, the black briefs doing absolutely nothing to hide the hardness of his cock. I ran my palm over it, his entire body shivering underneath my touch.

"Fuck, angel. If you keep that up I'm going to cum in your hand all over again," he groaned while bitting my bottom lip.

I hissed in pleasure, the taste of copper lingering on my tongue.

"Did you-." I licked my bottom lip. "Did you just bite me?"

Noah shrugged. "Oops."

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I somehow managed to flip us around so I was now straddling him. It wasn't an easy task since he was much taller than me but we made it work even though we were horizontal on the bed.

"Noah."

His name fell from my lips in a whine full of desperation. He barley touched me but the wetness between my legs was warm and I needed this release so fucking bad.

"What do you want from me?" His hand slide up my stomach to cup my breast, fingers pinching and pulling my nipples.

"You. I just want you."

With his free hand, he helped me shimmy out of my panties then I hurriedly slid his briefs down his long legs, eyes lingering on the array of tattoo's. I was kneeling in front of him and leaned towards the rose tattoo on his right kneecap to pepper kisses along it before jumping over to the Japanese style mask on his left leg, purposely avoiding the tattoo of Bryan's face.

"That's so fucking weird."

"Trust me. That's not the weirdest tattoo I have," he chuckled.

My lips parted over the leaking head of Noah's cock, fingers wrapping around the base, and I licked up the bits of pre-cum that seeped through the slit. I hummed in pure delight as the salty taste lingered on my lips.

"So good," I praised looking up at him through my lashes

He groaned pleasure, or annoyance that I was taking my time, I wasn't sure. Noah sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, the LED lights behind his bed and around his room bathed him in an orange glow.

"Angel," he warned. "I'm not in the mood for games. Please."

I rose to my feet slowly. "Is Noah Sebastian begging?"

"Fuck yes I am," he sighed.

"Well, who am I to make you wait," I straddled his hips once again and gently pushed him back onto the bed, the head of his cock sliding along my folds.

My head leaned back in pure bliss when Noah guided himself past my wetness, the thickness of his cock filling me completely. It pulsed inside of me, earning a desperate groan from me. Noah's eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted to an 'O' shape and hands gripping my hips so tight I was sure there would be bruises in the morning.

But I didn't care. Having him finally inside of me felt so fucking good.

I rocked my hips against him with my swollen clit rubbing against his warm stomach and I shivered at the sensation. Everything from earlier sent me in a spiral of pure desire and I felt the coil in my stomach pulling tight.

"Are you alright?" I asked when I realized Noah was barley moving.

He nodded, eyes finding mine through the messy strands of hair that covered his face.

"You're just so fucking beautiful, angel. I've wanted this for so long," he admitted and grabbed the back of my neck to yank me down towards him.

He attacked my lips with so my force I had to rest a hand on his chest, our tongues exploring each other mouths in a kiss so vicious it made my head spin. Noah's hips finally moved in a slow, steady stroke and I whined into the kiss.

"More," I mumbled into his lips.

"Fuck, angel." He groaned. "If I go faster, I'll-. It's too good."

I cupped his face to look at him. "Noah, please don't think you need to make this last an hour. I'm so fucking close and I can tell you are too. I have an implant so you don't have to worry about anything."

That's all he needed before his arms wrapped around my back, pulling me closer to his chest as his hips snapped up into me in violent strokes, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot. I yelled out my pleasure, exposing my neck to Noah who immediately attacked it with his teeth leaving bite marks all along it.

My body hummed in a prayer like awaking, the flames and heat burning high in my belly as my organs crested higher; so fucking high I was afraid I would combust into nothing but matter in the air. His name fell from my lips in devotion, a woman praying to her God, and my toes curled as the orgasm ripped through me with so much force I screamed out in pure bliss.

"I love you."

The aftershocks halted, my body going rigid in Noah's embrace, who didn't bother to stop moving his hips. My heart swelled with so much emotion at hearing those three words and I brushed back the stand of hair from Noah's face, it stuck to the skin with his sweat.

"Wha-what did you say?" I stammered, breathless.

He blinked slow. "I love you, angel. I'm so fucking sorry for everything hurtful thing I've done or said to you but I promise I'll spend forever making it up to you."

"I." Thrust. "Love." Thrust. "You."

A second orgasm tore through my entire being at Noah's proclamation and my head fell into his chest, his cock twitching before he released himself deep within my walls, a low groan rumbling from his throat. We lay there tangled in each other's arms for a long moment to let our breathing calm, along with our hearts. Although, there was no way mine would ever beat normal after hearing Noah loved me.

He loves me.

I peppered kisses all along the tattoo's over his chest as I curled myself underneath his arm, exhaustion digging deep into my bones.

"I love you too, Noah."

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #forced proximity #enemies to lovers #slow burn

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warmaidensrevenge · 4 months

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It's not a never.

Pairing: Eddie x best friend!Fem reader

A/N: Hey loves. Hope you all had a great week. Tonight's fic is part one of two. I hope all you like it. As always thanks for reading. Kay love ya byyyye.

I do not give permission for my work to be posted anywhere else. Please respect all creators. Also, all pictures and songs are from a Google search and found on Spotify. A credit to original posters and artists. Thank you for your work.

Word count: 3,045

Warnings: 18+ No minors please. Language, angst, sexual implications and not proof read.

Summary: New feelings? Yeah Eddie's got it bad.

Part 1

Eddie looked around the cafeteria table at his friends. “ Uhhhh you're joking…you gotta be joking…pfff that's hilarious.”

Everyone sat there in silence.

“ Guys? Seriously?! No way! No fuckin way!” He said, putting his hands up. “ Nope!”

He locked eyes with you and raised his brows. “ Common, you agree with me right?”

You averted your gaze to your lunch and shrugged.

He looked at the imbecile that brought up the subject in the first place. “ You turned her against me!”

Gareth scoffed. “ Dude no. All I'm trying to say is that prom is like a highschool right of passage. I don't know about you, but I don't want to miss out.”

Eddie tuts and narrowed his eyes at him. “ Miss out on what exactly? Penguin suits?”

You answered his question. “ You guys don't have to wear tuxedos. You can wear all black. Like always.”

He shot you a look and you smiled at him.

He rolled his eyes. “ Okay how about shitty music?”

You answered again. “ They're bound to play something good.”

He gave snake eyes now to you and you stuck your tongue at him.

“ Okay how about all of us are broke and we can't afford a limo?”

You opened your mouth to respond but he pressed his lips and widened his eyes at you.

Grant cleared his throat. “ Ehem. Well, you do have a van.”

Eddie licked his lips and looked at his lunch box. “ You guys are nuts. I'm admitting you all to Arkham…I-I can't believe you're trying to convince me to go to prom…Where the hell am I gonna find a date?”

“ Eddie, we're going together as a group. No dates.”

He looked up at you and you gave him a pout. God he hated when you did that. He could never say no when you put your lip out like that.

“Do you even own any dresses?” He asked sarcastically.

When you beamed at him, he gave you a defeated look. You'd convinced him.

You smirked.“ Oh you'd be surprised what I have in my closet.”

Eddie sat there and kept shaking his head while his friend talked about the plan for prom.

…

He couldn't believe it. Eddie absolutely could not believe he was doing this. He was driving to a damn dance. It was the last thing in the world he thought he would be doing. Yet here he was. Pulling up to the last stop before prom.

He lowered the music and parked in front of your house. He honked the horn and waited.

A minute passes and he sees your mom open the door. She then motioned for them to come in.

Eddie sighed when he saw her waving a camera. This was not a night he wanted to remember. Or there to be any evidence of it ever happening.

Everyone hopped out and walked to the house.

“ Oh my! You guys look sharp.” Victoria said, giving them each a hug.

Eddie grinned and gave her a warm embrace. “ Look who's talking. You look ravishing.”

Victoria playful slapped his chest. “ Oh you.”

“ Seriously Eddie? Dude, stop hitting on my mom.”

He turned his head to give you a smirk but instead his jaw nearly hit the floor.

There was only one word to describe how you looked coming into the foyer in your off the shoulders black satin dress.

Beautiful.

That word along with your name in the same sentence was not normal. Well other than him saying (That nat 20 was beautiful y/n.)

But now you are beautiful. Not that he thought you were ugly or something. It's just he never thought about that at all.

You were just one of the guys. A kid that liked to ride bikes and wrestle with boys. A kid that didn't care if you got dirty or cried when you scraped your knee.

You were one of his best friends and up until now, he never saw you as anything more.

“ Stop gawking dude.”

Your comment woke him up from his initial shock.

“ Ermmm. Y-you clean up alright kid.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “ Gee thanks. I appreciate that. You don't look awful yourself. I see you pulled out your funeral attire.”

He looked down at his black short sleeve button up and his uncle's black slacks. Along with his white Reeboks.

“ Well you did say-” he looked up and you turned around and went to say hi to everyone else.

You always did that. Whenever he was gearing up to argue, you would walk away. It always irritated the living fuck out of him. However, right now all he could do was smile to himself.

Before the group pictures you had gotten each of them a white rose to pin on their shirt. Eddie watched you smile happily as you and your mom put them on.

When it was his turn, his heart started to race. You were so close to him, he could smell your perfume. It was sweet and floral. Playful yet sexy. Something he could smell forever. He could just bury his nose in your neck and die happily.

He shook off the intruding thoughts and focused on your hands.

“ OUCH!” He hissed.

You pulled your hands away and looked up at him worriedly. He grinned and thought your forehead looked so cute when you pinched your brows together like that.

He grinned. “ Just kidding.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and mumbled under your breath. “ You dick.”

He chuckled and apologized.

…

You guys were sitting at a table near the exit in the gym. Talking amongst yourself. Eddie would have complained how they have been there for half an hour and the DJ has yet to play a passable song. Instead, he sat there wondering if he should ask you to dance. Would it be weird? No one else asked you yet. And he didn't think Gareth or Jeff would. Grant maybe. Because he liked all kinds of music and loved to dance. And he had a secret crush on you.

But Eddie had to beat him to the punch. He needed to know what it felt like to hold you close.

Just as his mind went haywire, he felt you tap his thigh and began spelling something out.

‘U- ok?’

He glanced at you and nodded. He always did like how you guys secretly communicated. He put his arm on the back of your chair and started writing on your back with his thumb.

‘Yeah- u?’

He kept his thumb pressed against your skin. Loving the warmth radiating from it and how smooth it was.

You wrote back. ‘Hungry.’

He looked down at your salad plate and it was empty. While cursing at himself for declining his salad that he should have given you, he searched around for more food.

He leaned in towards you when he found some. “I'll be right back.”

He got up and went for a plate when someone sat down in front of the one he was eyeing. He sighed and went on the hunt for another. It took a few minutes but eventually he was able to sneak one. When he came back he saw that you and everyone else at the table had a dinner plate already.

You grinned at him. “ I spoke too soon. But I'll totally eat that one too.”

He shook his head. “ I think all of us are gonna need 3 servings of this. With how much the tickets cost, they could at least give us more than an ice cream scoop of potatoes and a chicken wing.”

You agreed with him and offered to take them out for burgers after.

You guys were in the middle of eating when yours and his song came on. You immediately put down your fork and wiped the corners of your mouth.

“ Mhmmm. Okay! Let's go.” You said standing up. “ Let's do this.”

Everyone looked at each other and got up too. Except him.

“ Muuunnnnsooonn.” You sang out, walking backwards towards the dance floor. “ Common. This is our song dude. We have to.”

He chuckled while you pretended to cast out a line and start to reel him in.

He had no choice. He had to join and belt out the song with you.

What's goin on!”

While grabbing his hand, you started swaying with him and the others.

🎵

“ And so I wake in the morning and I step outside. And I take a deep breath and I get real high and I scream at the top of my lungs.

🎵

Eddie re-lived all the memories you and him had.

All the times he was bummed or sick. You would show up with food and sing that song. When you had a bad day at school or got anything less than a ‘A’ on an assignment, he would wrap his arms around you and rock you back and forth. Singing at the top of his lungs. Making you laugh like crazy.

He liked hearing you laugh. Especially when you laughed so hard that you would let out a small snort. He also liked how your fingers felt, scratching his head when he had a headache. The way you hummed What's Up? always made him feel better.

Even now, seeing you rock back and forth, singing your heart out. It made an alright night to one he'll never forget.

…

A couple weeks went by and Eddie couldn't get you out of his head. After prom, everything went back to normal. Except his feelings. You weren't that kid anymore. You weren't just one of his best friends.

In addition to being that, you were a girl who he wanted to hold. Maybe kiss and have sleepovers. Well, a different kind of sleepover than he was used to.

He tried so hard to avoid you as much as possible during those weeks. But he eventually missed you, so he gave into whatever was taken over his heart.

All the times he hugged you hello and goodbye would last a little longer. He became more affectionate than he'd ever been. Random tickling you when it wasn't weird. Just so he could touch you. Or he constantly had his arm around your shoulders whenever you were together.

He thought no one would notice since it was so close to graduation. But he was wrong. Apparently he was doing it so much that Gareth had to pull him aside and talk to him.

“ What the hell's going on man?”

Eddie's eyes went wide. The jig was up. “ Ermmm hmmm? What's up?”

Gareth crossed his arms and stood quiet. That's all he needed to do to get Eddie to talk. That and a stare down.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “ I…I don't know what happened…one minute she's who she's always been and the next, she's not.”

Gareth tilted his head to the side and remained silent.

Eddie clicked his tongue and shook his head. “ Look man, I don't know what I'm doing. All I know is that I feel different.”

Gareth straightened his head and raised his brows.

Eddie let out a long sigh. “ Fine! I like her. I like her, like her.”

Gareth smirked and put a hand on his shoulder. “ Welcome to the club.”

Eddie jerked his head back. “ What the hell does that mean?”

Gareth laughed. “ Dude! We all had a crush on her at some point. Remember when Jeff needed help with the spelling bee in the 6th grade?”

Eddie nodded.

“ Well she helped him for a whole 2 weeks. Jeff swore he loved her after that. And Grant…well you know he always liked her. But it really hit him when she decked Jenny for calling him fatso.”

Eddie was quiet for a second. “ W-what about you?”

Gareth put his hands in his pocket and gave him a thin lip smile. “Uhhhh…so I broke my arm once. Before you moved here…She helped me out a lot during that summer. She did my chores and helped cut up my food sometimes… You know, she was the only one who signed my cast.” He smiled. “ She's a great friend. She always has been. Honestly, I'm surprised it did happen to you sooner.”

Eddie licked his lips and put his hands in his back pockets. They had all liked you because you helped them out or defended their honor. But you hadn't done anything different with him. Besides you looking incredible at the dance, there was nothing that he could think of that made him like you like that.

“ S-so all of you guys still like her like that?”

Gareth shook his head. “ Nah man. I knew that it was just a crush. And Jeff, well Jeff's dating Connie. Grant…Grant still likes her. He even tried to kiss her.”

Eddie flexed his jaw. “ What?! When?!”

“ Prom.”

“ PROM?!”

“ DUDE!” Gareth hushed him up. “ Calm down. You left to get food and he tried. But she let him down gently. She said that she sees him as a brother. In fact, she sees all of us as family. And it would be weird if she dated any of us.”

Eddie's heart sank. Did you really think that about all of them or just the 3 stooges?

“ Look Munson, don't worry about it. It will go away.”

“ What-what if it doesn't?”

Gareth shrugged. “ Then talk to her. Maybe she can say something that will make you feel better about it.”

All of sudden Eddie felt hands on his hips.

“ Hey ladies! What are we gossiping about?”

He turned slightly to find you staring up at him. His heart fluttered seeing your amazing smile.

Gareth spoke up when Eddie couldn't answer.“ uhhhh nothing. Just talking about Mrs O'Donnells final.”

You huffed and grabbed his hand. Pulling it over your shoulders. Lacing your fingers with his.

What did that mean? It was weird right? You and him were close. But now that he had feelings for you, everything you did seemed intimate.

“ Don't you guys worry, okay. I've helped both of you and you'll do fine. Then all of us are gonna walk the line and finally get the hell out of here.”

You looked up at him and beamed. Making him grin right back.

There was a moment there where he thought that you felt the same for him. But that was squashed when you let go of his hand and hook your arm around Gareth’s.

“ Now common. They're serving pizza and you know how I love pizza Fridays.”

He and Gareth chuckled and responded at the same time. “ More than us.”

You started for the cafeteria. “ You betcha!”

…

A week later and Eddie still couldn't shake you. He just couldn't get past the thought of being with you. Or even if what he felt was just a hard core infatuation. But nothing could prepare him for the events of senior outing.

It wasn't camping or a field trip to Washington. It was a movie in the park.

Sure, you guys could have rented a decent horror flick and binge out on snacks in your basement. But you argued that it was one of the last chances to hang out. So of course everyone went.

Eddie was walking back with Jeff. Hauling bags of popcorn and drinks for everyone. As soon as he was close enough he caught your eye. You bit your lip and waved him over.

He immediately felt butterflies in his stomach.

When he sat down you scooted closer to him and covered his legs with a blanket you brought.

You then grabbed your purse and pulled out his favorite candy.

He smiled and patted himself down. Pulling out a box of milk duds from his jacket pocket.

“ Awwww you remembered. Thanks.”

His eyes went wide when you gave him a peck on the cheek.

He had only a second of shock before he tried to brush it off. “ Of-of course. I could never forget.”

You happily rocked side to side as you combined the candy and popcorn. Then you held out a bite for him.

His heart started to race the closer your hand got to his mouth.

He closed his eyes and let you feed him.

Under any other circumstances, this was totally normal. You were very affectionate. It actually annoyed him most of the time. However this time, it only served to make him think you actually did like him too.

As the movie he couldn't pay attention to kept playing, he tried not to think about his “crush”. But it was a battle he was losing. Every time you would laugh, it would warm his heart. Every time you guys reached for popcorn at the same time, your fingers would touch. All he wanted to do was hold your hand or pull you closer by your waist.

Then like a sign from above, the wind picked up. You moved closer to keep warm. Out of nowhere you rested your head on his shoulder and put your hand on his upper thigh. That's when his breath caught in his throat. He tried to clear it and ended up coughing.

Without hesitation your reached over and lifted up your lemonade for him to take a sip.

He licked his lips and took a drink. After you put the cup down, you started tracing across his thigh.

‘Better?’

He gulped and nodded. “I uhh I'm gonna get us refills.”

He felt your eyes on him as he got up and grabbed your cup and his.

While he walked to the snack bar he tried to talk down a chubby. This wasn't okay. The way you made him feel was agonizing. But in such a good fucking way.

When he hit the stand there was a huge line.

Shit! He thought.

By the time he got back to the spot, you had moved to sit between Gareth and Grant. That's when he noticed you wearing Grant's leather coat. He instantly got jealous.

You looked up and gave him a small smile. “ Sorry Eddie. I got really cold while you were gone.”

He shook his head. “ It's cool. The line was long.”

Once he handed you your drink he plopped down and sulked.

Obviously his feelings weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

What the hell was he gonna do?

…

@salenorona23

#fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x female original character #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie x reader #eddie my beloved #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie x plus size reader #eddie x oc #eddie x you #plus size reader #plus size girls #Spotify

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naomihatake · 7 months

Text

In search of freedom (Ch. 6)

6. Where are you when I need you the most?

⠀⠀➺ fic masterlist

⠀⠀➺ Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

Warnings for this chapter: angst, graphic depictions of deaths and fatal wounds, vomiting, self-harm, brief suicidal mention, canon-typical violence. (proceed with caution since it's getting a tiny bit gore)

Word count: 9,1 k (I'm proud of myself tbh)

Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)

A/N: I'm sorry for appearing with a new chapter 9 days later and I hope the wait was worth it. I dropped more details about the Witch's past in this chapter and some interesting interactions with her other crewmates. The next week I'm free, which means there's a chance I might most two charters until next Sunday <3.

I'm always open for opinions and comments. Whatever you want to tell me, just do it, even all you feel like doing is leaving a heart in my comments or inbox. Every interaction is appreciated and thank you so much for sticking to this story till now <3

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

A warm palm touched her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly, but with no effect. The witch turned her head towards Luffy, her glassy eyes betraying her. It made their captain frown with worry. The sound of her real name slipping from between his lips stung worse than expected.

"It'll be alright," he smiled. "Zoro is a strong swordsman."

With horror painting her features, she shook her head and placed her shaking hand over his, gripping gently.

"You don't get it, Luffy, do you?" her voice came out like a whisper. "It's not just any dwell and that man isn't just any swordsman. I've seen plenty of people dying in front of my eyes, the crew I used to be part of, they didn't hold a chance against—"

She sank her teeth in her lower lip and looked up, blinking away the tears. Her breath was shaking and the grip on Luffy's hand got tighter. Slowly, she inhaled deeply, body trembling as her lungs swallowed the morning cold breeze.

Both Usopp and Luffy were frowning, listening intently to her words.

"This won't end well," she concluded. "He willingly got himself in danger. Zoro is nothing but some prey for Mihawk."

Luffy's sympathetic gaze didn't help her, it didn't ease her worries as he hoped. Her panic was fed by each single thought passing through her head, by each memory making a nest in the present.

"I've met one single Warlord in my entire life and he destroyed half of the strongest crew I ever knew at that time. I know who they are, I know their tactics, I know they're not to play with."

Both of her hands were clasped around Luffy's shoulder, turbulent eyes meeting his. The tips of her nails dug lightly in his skin, but he didn't wince or move.

"Yes, we are strong, but still not strong enough for them," the witch intentionally lowered her voice so it wouldn't crack into sobs. "Please tell me you know I didn't argue with him because I like to. Please tell me you get what I mean, Luffy. I'm scared."

She was barely aware of her admission, but it was hard to hold back. The witch wasn't a scaredy-cat, she didn't run away, pride filled her being all too well to ever lose a battle, be it against herself or others. That time, however, she was scared out of her mind for the swordsman.

Luffy gave her the sweetest smile she's seen in ages and squeezed her shoulder again. "He will be alright."

She let her head tilt forward, hands falling back to her sides. His faith was greater than her fears, but he couldn't erase the panic settling in her bones.

"You have no clue how much I wish you were right."

It hurt. Her chest hurt and something was crawling up her throat, differently than back in Syrup Village. It made her feel nauseous, it bubbled in her stomach and gripped at her neck, it constricted her lungs and air punctured their tissue.

Zoro just walked out of the galley exactly when the sun could be barely seen rising up from the waters. The bandana was wrapped around his head and his earrings chimed like a melody, making her head turn towards him.

The same horrified gaze from hours ago was stuck on him and yet he chose to ignore her, passing by without even casting a glance.

She stood there when Usopp, Luffy and Zoro walked by, her back turned to them. The witch had to collect the pieces of her broken heart before daring to glance at a list fight on the swordsman's side. Mihawk was already waiting for them right in front of the restaurant.

She couldn't watch another dear person die. Not again.

Her fingers dug painfully into her palms, until her nails left crescent marks on the skin, until it hurt so badly the tears in her eyes couldn't fall. Their synchronized steps beat like drums, just like her heart.

Everything was blurred out. She didn't dare look until she heard swords clashing. Like a snap, her head turned.

Mihawk stopped Zoro's attack with one small knife.

He had no chance against the warlord, just like she guessed.

No, she thought. I can't be pessimistic now. Maybe at least he'll get out alive—

But pirates don't just let their dwell partners live, the other side of her conscience commented.

Each one of Zoro's attacks were either stopped or dodged so easily by Mihawk, who seemed like he was playing rather than fighting. He was so light on his feet, body moving like a feather between Zoro's blades.

The warlord sent her green-haired crewmate flying back with a mere push of his knife when he blocked yet another one of his attacks. When Zoro got back to his feet and rushed towards him, Mihawk continued dodging each one of his attacks.

The witch could only hear a muffled conversation from a distance. She didn't even notice when Nami passed by her until she saw orange strands of hair bouncing in her vision.

The navigator didn't come from the restaurant, as she should've since she searched for a drink — or that's what she said. She walked from the other side of the dock. Her hands trembled by her side and she walked slowly, fearfully, her body so stiff, until she stopped behind Luffy.

The witch focused for so long on Nami, her gaze fell on Zoro only when the right side of his chest was penetrated by Mihawk's knife.

Air got stuck in her throat and time stopped in its tracks. Her feet were stuck right where they were and she couldn't move an inch.

Zoro, his name lingered in her thoughts, the sound of it along with the sweet chiming of his golden earrings.

Time stretched like an elastic. Seconds passed by at an agonizingly slow pace, as if the Universe itself decided to torture her with that image.

Swords. Corpses. Blood. Fear.

The witch let out a shaky breath while she trembled like a leaf in the breeze.

Zoro made a step back, the knife slipping away from his flesh. With a few other steps, he fell to his knees, with his swords digging into the wooden battens to keep himself steady.

Mihawk curled his fingers around the hilt of the sword on his back.

It seemed like he decided to end it all right then and there.

The witch didn't know if it was her imagination when Zoro seemed to glance towards her for a brief moment. All she knew was that her heart sank into her stomach and she could hear the audible cracks of her soul. The green-haired man took his white sword, placing it in between his teeth.

His gaze moved back to Mihawk so quickly she could barely register it. Her stomach turned upside down and her chest tightened when she saw Zoro rotating his other two swords faster than the brain was able to comprehend.

Mihawk and Zoro jumped into the attack at the same time. She didn't know if their swords collided or not.

Zoro fell to his knees again, panting. The swords in his hands crumbled into pieces all the way to the hilt, right in the middle of the runes the witch drew hours ago on the blades. His Wado Ichimoji fell from between his teeth.

He didn't stop there. Of course that fucking idiot didn't stop. He used the white sword to get up, resting his weight into it until he finally stood straight again, turning to Mihawk. Carefully, he sheathed his Wado Ichimoji.

With his arms held in the air and hands curled into fists, Zoro didn't let go of his word as he proudly admitted:

"Wounds on the back are a swordsman's greatest shame."

The warlord said one word the witch didn't hear and then, with a swift motion, his sword cut deeply through Zoro's chest.

The green-haired man fell on his back, eliciting a shout of his name from Luffy.

Zoro.

His name was all the witch could hear while she rushed to his side, tears blurring her vision, tears she couldn't afford to show.

Just like he did a few moments ago, the witch got to her knees, eyes focused on the t-shirt getting soaked in Zoro's blood.

"Fucking dammit," she spoke in a hoarse voice, hands trembling.

He was bleeding heavily, the dark blue nuance of his shirt replaced by dark crimson. The wound started from under his left clavicle and curved through his chest, all the way to the right side of his ribs. Without a second thought, the witch took off her unbuttoned shirt and folded it, just to press the material on his large wound.

"Monkey D. Luffy," Mihawk said. "what's your goal?"

"I'm going to become the King of the Pirates," Luffy responded through gritted teeth.

The witch's burning gaze raised to the warlord who stood tall meters away, putting his sword back in place on his back. Her fingers ached to touch her revolvers and shoot holes through that man until she's satisfied, until the monster lurking in the depths of her soul had its blood thirst quenched. However, her hands remained pressed against her shirt, trying her best to stop Zoro's bleeding.

She's always been revengeful when people dear to her heart were harmed. Revenge she never denied, a trait of hers she's accepted long ago.

"That's a much more treacherous path than even defeating me. This world could use a few more wild cards."

"Go fuck yourself," the witch let out with wrath burning in her eyes.

She clenched her jaw and her eyebrows knitted together into a deep frown. Anger filled each corner of her being, blinding her almost all the way up, filling her to the brim.

One more drop and she would lash out.

Zoro's safety was more important than her rage and she was completely aware of that. The wounded swordsman was the only reason why she stood still by his side.

"It's too soon for him to die," and with that, Mihawk's gaze fell back on the green-haired man. "Roronoa Zoro, grow strong and come find me. I'll be waiting."

Fucker, the witch's thought wasn't voiced out that time while the warlord walked away.

"Luffy," Zoro spoke in such a soft voice.

The witch and Luffy immediately looked back at him. He was struggling to breathe properly, that mere motion probably making his entire body ache painfully.

"If I fail to become the world's greatest swordsman," he faintly spoke, barely able to open up his eyes. After some greedy gulps of air, he continued: "you'll be disappointed. Right?"

With a shaky breath, Luffy smiled at him as tears gathered in his eyes.

"You could never fail me."

The witch could feel her body shake when she realized the swordsman's life was hanging on a thread.

"Never again. From now… until I beat him," Zoro continued talking in between panting.

The witch wished she could tell him something, anything, but all she could do was continue pressing her shirt over his wound. Looking at him in that state made her heart squeeze in the cage made of ribs, wishing she could be in his place and take his pain away.

With trembling hands, he somehow managed to draw his Wado Ichimoji out of its scabbard, holding it up as he looked up at the blue sky.

"To become the greatest swordsman… I will never lose again!" he let out with a shaky breath, voice scratching at the witch's eardrums.

One of her hands curled around his shoulder and squeezed firmly, intending to bring his attention to her only for a second.

"I'm sorry about what I said, alright?" she gulped down hard, her voice cracking. "You need to live, yeah? I know you'll become the greatest. I'm sorry, Zoro, I'm sorry."

She was sorry for lashing out at him. If they were to part ways in that moment, then she'd rather make sure he never believed she was mad at him, that she didn't hate him even for a second. It was a feeling her heart wasn't capable of harboring towards him — never him. She would've ripped her ribcage open and given him her heart if she could.

The witch could only hope his tired and pained self heard her words, even as his eyes closed immediately after his arm dropped to his side along with the sword.

"You better stay alive," she whispered while looking down at him.

Her words became muffled from his perspective. All he heard was his name being spoken multiple times by Luffy and Usopp.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch has been sitting on the floor of her shared room with Nami for a while now, ever since the navigator started reading. Zoro laid unconsciously on her bed, bandages wrapped around his torso. For a long time, she didn't even dare look at him.

She will be eternally grateful for Zeff's help — the chef cook of Baratie who snitched Zoro up and told them to do whatever was necessary to keep him alive, be it telling stories or singing sea shanties.

Despite the fact that Zoro's wound wasn't bleeding anymore, her heart still screamed at her.

With knees pulled up to her chest and her forehead resting in between them, she wrapped her arms around her stomach, subconsciously protecting herself from God-knows-what. She couldn't sleep either, despite listening to Nami's alluring voice as she read from a book.

The bandage on her upper arm was worn out and it's been longer than a day since Zoro wrapped it. It was dirty with blood from the time when she intentionally squeezed it before sobs could leave her lips.

Nami stopped reading, but the witch didn't register the lack of sounds surrounding her until she heard a voice. She didn't bother to raise her head, keeping her eyes closed as she responded:

"Can you say that again? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"Pull yourself together," Nami whispered.

The witch knew that if she'd look up, she'd see a scolding or maybe a worried pair of blue eyes staring at her.

"I will when the situation asks for it," plainly, she dismissed the navigator. "Until then, I couldn't give less of a fuck."

She was aware of her position, of how small she looked, curled like a ball against the wall, hugging herself and praying to every God she knew that the swordsman would wake up. It was pathetic, but there was no wiser way to hide her overwhelming pain. Wrapping around herself sounded like the most helpful option.

"There are a few things you two should talk about when he wakes up," Nami closed the book with a small thud.

"I'd tell anyone anything if I knew he'd wake up," this time, her voice trembled lightly.

The witch swallowed the lump in her throat that's been sitting there uncomfortably for hours, with no positive effect. The only way to even her breathing was by holding the air in her lungs for a few seconds and letting it all go with a long exhale.

"Nami."

Only then, the witch raised her head. She looked deplorable, with disheveled hair and sunken eyes, dark circles under them from the lack of sleep. Her chapped lips were red because she ripped the skin off with her nails again. There was no sign of life on her face.

Obviously, she's had better days. Everyone did, probably.

"Maybe it's because I'm sorrow-drunk and can't bring myself to hide it anymore, but I have to tell you something."

She's been debating on whether or not she shall tell Nami about her suspicions ever since she pulled out those two cards out of the tarot deck.

"I know you're hiding something, but you can't hide it from me."

The truth has been spoken. With her heart beating loudly in her eardrums and threatening to break her ribs, she continued.

"I know. You're planning betrayal."

The navigator's eyes widened as panic flooded in her soul. The orange haired woman had no clue where all this came from, didn't know how fuck she found out about that, when and why—

"I didn't tell anyone."

"Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?" came out Nami's sharp response.

"I never expected you to admit it, if I am to be honest."

The witch rubbed her palms over her face and sighed heavily, as if a weight was pressed on top of her body.

"I also know there's more to the story. I don't know what or who you're protecting yourself from, I have no clue exactly why you're doing all this, but there's one thing I know for sure: the world is sitting on your shoulders, yet you refuse letting us help you carry it."

Nami stiffened in her chair. Her back straightened and her empty gaze pushed the witch out of her thoughts.

"Are you jumping to conclusions because of some stupid cards?"

"They definitely know more than me."

"Did you read you should treat your paranoia in there too?"

"While I admit there are times when I have crippling anxiety," the witch calmly stated, "I'm one hundred percent sure this isn't just a fairy tale. It's your choice to tell me or continue to keep it for yourself."

"But?" her voice lowered dangerously close to snapping.

"But we're not your enemies, Nami, and you know that well."

Not an answer the navigator expected, definitely.

"Zoro is unconscious on the bed and you're talking in metaphors — have you all gotten insane on this ship?"

"If I did, it was long before stepping on The Going Merry," the witch let out a stiffled laugh.

She dropped her forehead on her knees again, squeezing herself tighter in the embrace. The witch wasn't any less panicked than Nami, since opening up such a discussion scared her deeply. It was better than hiding and lying, though, and it felt less guilty.

"Why did you tell me this?" Nami asked with a whisper. "Be it right or wrong, why would you?"

"You don't deserve to be lied to, Nami. It makes me feel bad — hiding this from you made me feel like garbage from the start."

Even then, a gram of her guilt vanished.

"You're weirdly honest. You're aware this will haunt you one day, aren't you?"

"It's been haunting me since I got born," a sour smile painted the witch's face.

"The devil must've put some kind of curse on you."

"I only believe in evil spirits, sorry."

She didn't know where that soft laugh came from. Maybe it was her way of copying with the anxiety, with the pain. All she knew was that she hoped Nami wouldn't hide from them forever.

"Is there anything else you want to accuse me of?"

Faster than Usopp's snapping, Nami was once again serious, and the witch didn't have to look at her to figure it out.

"I never accused you. I know I'm right, but I'm not aware of the entire truth. You, on the other side, are aware of your own reality and I believe in your judgment. I hope you'll make the wisest decision and I'm saying this from the bottom of my heart."

"That's rich coming from someone so suspicious."

She's always been that way, the witch had to admit it. It wasn't only anxiety or tarot readings, there were times when she was straight up acting and thinking like a paranoid and it was cutting years off her life. Worrying and thinking over and over again, being hyper aware of everyone's actions, including her own.

Nami resumed her reading, her voice strained this time, as if she forced herself to talk out loud. Each syllable sounded rougher than the other, but that didn't stop the navigator from telling that story.

The witch wasn't paying attention, instead focusing on the moments spent with all of them, just like last night, when they were all eating and teasing each other. She needed to talk to Zoro, to tell him again that she's sorry.

Maybe he didn't hear me clearly before he fell unconscious, she wondered. She moved one of her arms and curled her fingers around the wound on her bicep. It stung good. If it could stop the stream of tears threatening to fall, then it was good, no matter how much it hurt, how the pain sunk deep into her bones, making her flinch.

There was something she wanted to clear out with Nami, but before the witch could speak, approaching steps made her mouth close shut. The presence felt light once her senses registered it, like a sparkling piece of hope — Luffy. She remained like a statue, breathing so slowly it was barely obvious she was still alive.

"Why did the king have to kill him?" he asked innocently.

He was referring to Nami's telling.

Without even having to glance up at him, the witch knew he was feeling unwell. There was no light in his voice and he sounded unsure of himself, so disoriented.

"Sometimes, when you are in charge, you have to make the tough decisions," she muttered between gritted teeth.

The witch knew where this conversation was heading.

"Why does everybody keep saying that?"

Luffy's voice desperately tried to reach out to the orange-haired woman.

Judging from the creaking of the chair, Nami got up from her seat as she spoke:

"Because you could've saved Zoro. He didn't have to fight Mihawk, but you let it happen. "

A few seconds of silence filled the room with thick tension.

"Look at her," Nami pointed with her chin towards the witch. "It looks like if he goes, she goes too. If one of us crumbles, everyone does. Look at us, at how we're handling it, at how Zoro does or, better said, how he doesn't handle it."

The witch couldn't understand why she was suddenly part of their conversation or why Nami took her side and tried to protect her from some unknown entity. Probably, she really looked worse than she thought. A sense of relief patched up one of the countless wounds under her skin when she figured out the navigator said all those things because she cared.

At the very same time, she knew Nami's words must've made Luffy suffer greatly, pushing her to raise her head and give her friends her entire attention.

"Nami," the witch intervened gently.

"You're in no place to talk," she cut her off quickly, her eyes like turbulent seas. "We're all a mess and it's all because of his stupid decision. But he could've been stopped," Nami turned her head to Luffy again.

"Nami, stop it," the witch furrowed her eyebrows. "Fighting will do no good. We've argued enough last night, there's no need for that anymore."

Nami was panicked and stressed out of her mind as well. Everything gave her away: the trembling hands, the shaking voice, tone close to breaking in a million pieces with each word, even the tears that gathered in her eyes. However, no drop rolled down her cheek.

"Tell me, Luffy," Nami vehemently continued with a tensed expression. "Would you see him like this? He might die."

Stop saying that, please, the witch thought as she took in another breath. He knows. Everyone knows. Please, stop saying he'll die because I might believe it too. I want to believe in him, not in whatever life changing lesson the universe gave me.

"And I'd do anything to save him," Luffy whispered with a tender smile on his face.

Me too. I'd rip my heart out of my chest and give it to him. I'd rip off my flesh and put it on his wounds. I'd die if I knew my life would be given to him.

"Anything," Luffy continued. "Except stand in the way of his dream."

God fucking dammit.

"We all have dreams, but we outgrow them," Nami clenched her teeth after she spoke.

"Is that really what you think?" Luffy's smile held so much hope. "Don't you have a dream?"

"Yeah. Right now, is for Zoro to not die in my bed," the navigator let out in a strangled voice.

"Isn't there something that you want? Something more," the straw hat whispered. "More than anything else in this world."

When the witch looked at Nami, it was obvious she was on the verge of tearing up, her nostrils flaring. Her eyes were already bloodshot.

"Not everyone gets to follow their dreams."

Nami didn't wait for any of them to respond before she walked out of the room. The witch got to her feet and tried to catch the navigator's hand in hers, but she wasn't fast enough. All she could do was glance at Luffy and place both of her palms on his shoulders, just like he did at the crack of dawn.

He looked at the witch with a hopeful and equally worried gaze.

"I know you meant the best when you encouraged him to follow his dream, Luffy," the witch squeezed his shoulders. "It's alright. Nami knows that as well. She's worried, like all of us. We all said hurtful things to each other lately."

His lips trembled when he attempted to say something, but he didn't dare to anymore. Instead, he searched for reassurance.

Was he in the wrong? Did Zoro get hurt because of him?

"It's not your fault," the witch continued with a tiny smile on her face. "I promise you. Everything led up to this. It couldn't have been avoided, unfortunately. No one could've stopped Zoro — you know he's a stubborn asshole."

Luffy scoffed.

"You know I'm right."

"I do," the straw hat nodded shily. "I think…" he gulped down, looking at his feet. "Maybe I can clean his sword for when he'll wake up."

"I'm sure he would be grateful about it. I'll stay here a bit longer."

She didn't let go of Luffy's shoulders until he moved away. Just to ease her concern, he smiled faintly at her before leaving the room.

Looking down at the unconscious pirate hunter, the witch couldn't believe her eyes. She gulped, not even daring to grasp at his hand, scared he'd break even because of a feather-like touch. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds, opening them again only to see the same man in the exact same position.

She was scared for him, for his life. She didn't want to be a nuisance and stop him from doing what he believed would bring him happiness. Or maybe that word was too much — but winning against Dracule Mihawk would've made him proud, it would've fulfilled a promise he made to someone long ago. She didn't know who was at the other end of the promise, but he seemed to be a man of his word, so trying to stop him turned her into a selfish person.

Her eyes were locked on his face, brushing with the back of her hand some small droplets of sweat on his forehead. She was worried out of her mind, now regretting she didn't do more to stop him, to make him change his mind when he was maybe too drunk to think twice.

"Be careful, Zoro," the witch told him back then, her gaze betraying the worry crippling through her entire being.

She was right. He should've been more careful. He should've been less reckless, should've listened to Nami and her, even if Luffy encouraged him to chase his dream. Was it really worth it?

Once again, she sighed. She was selfish, greedy, it was wrong to think that his dream wasn't worth the entire world. Heck, even she would do anything for him, just to see him open his eyes again, just to hear another bored or witty remark coming from between his lips.

Instead, he was silent and still, only the slow movement of his chest visible as he breathed. It was the only thing that managed to bring her an ounce of comfort.

At least he was alive, she continued telling herself.

It was clawing at her heart, messing with it, her thoughts roaming around, jumping one on top of another. She was overthinking again, the worst habit she could've had — or that's what she silently believed for years.

The witch should've fought with him to death back then, when he was stubborn enough to throw Nami's words at her while they argued. Maybe it would've made him change his mind. As she continued looking at him, she worthlessly tried to take some of the blame for what happened.

Hidden under his bandages, the same wound made the woman standing by his side believe she saw the Death Reaper, even if he was the one unconscious on a bed.

Carefully, she sat down next to him, without taking her eyes off of him even for a moment.

"You're kind of worrying us all, y'know? Luffy is in denial of your possible death and Nami seems restless. Usopp is too silent for his usual self," she whispered.

Her first instinct was to touch him, but her fingertips hovered above his hand. She didn't know if it would've been right to seek the warmth of his skin while he wasn't even awake. All the witch could do was hope that deep down in his soul, he felt and heard all of them.

"I'm worried too. No. Worried is an understatement. I'm terrified," the words trembled as they left her lips, the same chopped lips she sank her teeth into. "I'd rather have you call me an idiot," she chuckled sourly.

With slow and careful gestures, she gathered enough courage to caress his hand with her fingers, feeling small cuts here and there. He was still warm, which eased a few of her worries.

She made a long pause, staring at the seemingly lifeless man she would give her life for.

"Remember when we drank together on the deck, two nights ago?"

A fragile smile appeared on her face at the reminder of that night. She stole the last drop of his bottle before he could finish it with a grin, playfully nudging at his ribs. He failed to threaten her about how she owes him something for that. He was handling his liquor better than her and yet, he couldn't hide his smirk or the sparkle in his eyes.

That night, bottles later, the witch got dizzy and tipsy. At first, she almost fell into a sea of melancholy after she shared pieces of her with Zoro. She doesn't remember how, but he got her laughing way too easy with his remarks and some silly stories.

"You're flushed already," he pointed out back then.

"You're kinda rosy in the cheeks as well, swordsman."

At that time she damned the alcohol for the soft gaze she had when she looked at him. Her eyes were sparkling with adoration when they danced on his face, peace sinking in her very bones in his presence. She shouldn't have drank. It was so obvious that she had a soft spot for him, that he had a special place in her heart not even a month after they met.

And who was at fault for her drunken state that night? Roronoa Zoro, obviously. He was at fault when she giggled and talked too much about too many things at once, so much more passion in her words than usual — was that even possible? he thought to himself. She always had a light and warm way of talking, her voice many times giving away her feelings.

A promise was a promise, even if she didn't wholeheartedly accept it from the beginning. She surrendered quickly and told him that yes, she owes him something, maybe a secret.

The witch remembered everything the next day, but acted like her memory had faded. The realization hit her hard the next morning, when she figured out her irrational fear of sharing secrets. She shouldn't have made that promise, so she played dumb, as if the conversation they had was forgotten about.

"Maybe it's not exactly a secret, but I like it when you call me by my name."

Maybe he hears me.

"I didn't hear my name being spoken for a long time. It makes me emotional every time, with no exception."

You're a crybaby, he should've said.

Her hand fully settled on top of his while the witch continued to slowly rub her fingertips into his skin, trying to bring herself back to earth even if her thoughts were sailing through unfortunate memories.

"I wasn't called by my name for years after my father became a pirate," she continued the story that started during their drinking night. "He aimed to become an Admiral and he was part of the Navy Forces for half of his life. For a long time, he thought he could do better than his comrades and hoped he could change the corruption that took place in the Government and the Marines. Insane, right?" she let out a sour chuckle. "An Admiral becoming a pirate. Everyone called him insane."

Once again, she smiled at the faint memories of her father's warm smile. There were details she didn't mention that night on the deck, like the status of her father in the Navy.

"I didn't reach ten yet when he left. He considered it would've been dangerous to stay with us and, if I am to be honest, mom would've kicked him out of their home."

Their home, because that place was never her home.

"Calling me by my name would've meant he still has ties with me and someone might've taken advantage of that."

Nine years ago, the witch was a child who only learnt how to use a kitchen knife for cutting vegetables. That child has been stripped of her innocence a few years later.

"A few times a year he would visit me. He would hide from the Marines, while I would hide from my mom. I still remember how he was so much happier. He looked younger, like he was living his teenage years and not his thirties. Except for a few days I'd stay with him and his crew, he was roaming around the seas. He never judged a single soul, believing it wasn't his job to do so, even if he would protect anyone who needed help. He changed the meaning of a pirate in a good way."

She turned her head towards the window, watching the blue sky mingling with the sea and the port of Baratie where people were walking on the wooden battens.

"He was caught by the Marines while he visited me and killed in the center of the city," her voice lowered to a gentle whisper, just like the breeze coming from the open window and giving her goosebumps.

She remembers that moment all too clearly, eyebrows knitting together as she squeezed Zoro's hand lightly, hoping it would bring some comfort to her shattered heart.

A life that felt like an eternity already made her believe her name was like damnation for anyone who said it. A few syllables being spoken and you'd be cursed to die one way or another, since her mother refused to call by the name her father chose when she saw light for the first time. Her father and his crew were the only ones calling her name so dearly, with honey latched onto their voices, treating her like a daughter.

She was someone's daughter when she was with them. And now, by Luffy's side, she was someone's friend.

"I don't want to watch you die too," only then she looked at him again. "Don't die on me. Don't leave us alone."

There was determination in her tone, mingling with pain and sorrow. Half of her believed in him the same way she believed the sea was blue and that leaves were green. The other half drowned in anguish.

Zoro seemed almost serene, despite the small frown that never left his face. She took in a deep breath and moved her hand away from his, only to lean over and rest her elbows on her knees.

She needed some fresh air.

The witch got up and left the room in a hurry, before tears would've slipped down her cheeks. She pushed it all aside, holding it in, since there was no time to weep at anyone's grave. Zoro was still breathing, even if half dead.

He will get better. He had to.

She walked into the galley. Standing up in front of the table was Sanji, wearing only his white and blue checkered shirt, the black jacket suit abandoned on the armrest of the couch. He was cutting some vegetables, skillfully holding the knife.

On the cushions sat Luffy, cleaning Zoro's white sword, just like he said. Meanwhile, Usopp was the one to notice her first, leaning with his hands prompted onto the wooden table. Nami couldn't be spotted anywhere.

The sound of her own name almost made her flinch. The witch blinked quickly, looking at Usopp. Both Sanji and Luffy looked at her then. The latter had some deep puppy eyes — her heart aches at that look alone.

"How is he?"

"Unconscious," she breathed out softly.

She let out a sigh and ran her fingers through her hair, her eyebrows pulled together.

"I suppose you haven't eaten anything since yesterday," Sanji smiled gently. "Anything I could make for you?"

"I appreciate it, really, but I don't have an appetite," she dismissed him with a faint smile of her own.

"You could use some energy, you know," Usopp mumbled.

"You, Luffy? What would you like to eat?" Sanji got back to chopping the vegetables.

"I'm not hungry right now. You could make something for Zoro. He'll surely be hungry when he wakes up!"

Their captain still had hope bubbling in his chest and it was the only thing keeping them all afloat.

However, the witch couldn't bear to think about it anymore. She spotted her shirt hanging on a nail in the wall, close to the couch. With a quick gesture, she grabbed at it, intending to put it on herself until the heavy scent of blood filled her senses the second time that day—

The shirt was soaked in Zoro's blood from the time when she used it to stop the bleeding of his wound. Nausea crawled up her throat and she unintentionally dropped the piece of cloth when she became aware of the sickness settling deeply in the pitch of her stomach.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

With a hand covering her mouth, she rushed out of the galley, on the deck, the doors shutting harshly behind her. She leaned over the railing as the acidic taste made its way up her throat and on her tongue.

A disgusting sensation, truly.

She's seen blood before, she saw countless corpses laying at her feet, but nothing could compare with the vision of a dear person giving their last breath. She couldn't believe she vomited because of blood, such a normal occurrence in her life.

But it wasn't just any kind of blood — it was Zoro's and it sunk into the material of her own shirt.

She will have to throw it away. There's no way in hell she would manage to ever wear that again, even if it would be clean and smelling like lavender.

Tears clung to her eyelashes when she opened her eyes again, looking down into the sea. She was breathing heavily and she regretted swallowing her own saliva, as the awful taste lingered in her mouth unpleasantly.

Warm fingers touched her shoulder and before she saw whose hand it was, there was a glass of water being shoved towards her. When she glanced up, she saw the blonde waiter.

"Thank you, Sanji," she took the glass from his hand, sipping slowly as the gentle weight on her shoulder disappeared.

"If I knew such a beautiful lady was waiting for me to wake up, I would've opened my eyes much sooner."

The waiter — who could apparently also cook like a professional — said that in a somewhat flirtatious tone. Also, there was compassion lingering in his honeyed voice.

"If Zoro would hear you, he would've thrown you overboard."

Nami.

The witch didn't even notice her on the deck until that moment, her head snapping towards the navigator, her eyes sparkling with hope as she gripped at the glass in between her fingers. Nami was a few meters away from her, with her back facing the sea and her hands curled around the railing.

The witch has seen Nami's expression countless times when she looked in the mirror after a crying fit. The same bloodshot eyes and puffy eyes, the red tip of her nose and the husky voice.

"I don't remember you having sea sickness," Nami pried into her soul.

The witch looked towards the water at the bottom of her glass, ashamed of her own reaction.

"Because I don't have sea sickness," the witch whispered weakly, basically admitting her vulnerable state.

She was more than just thankful Sanji chose not to elaborate on the reason behind her reaction. There was still acid sitting on her tongue, even after she gulped down the last droplets of water from her glass.

"Where are you heading to?"

The witch noticed when Nami straightened her back and walked away, towards the dock.

"Maybe I can find another drink at the restaurant," Nami waved the back of her hand at the witch.

That sounded very familiar to a lie for some reason, but was it the witch's place to comment?

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Familiar fear made its way through her body, scratching underneath the skin, whispering in her ear like a mantra the same phrase her mother has always told her: "there's nothing you can do about it, so accept it."

Those words always unsettled the young witch deeply. She heard that voice everytime she hid in a room with the books her grandmother left behind, pages filled with tarot and palmistry, the promise of real magic, different from the fairy tales. It sounded and felt palpable, her eyes sparkling. Those books were her treasure, a future filled with freedom.

The same words were being shouted in her ears by the ghosts when her body stiffened in its spot. She wanted to scream while the man who was her father was dragged away by Marines, this time on the port of Baratie, not in her hometown.

The deafening yell she wanted to let out was silent. Her lips didn't even part and her awareness slipped away as she continued to see blood pooling at her father's feet, his signature royal blue coat painted in crimson. As if her vocal chords broke before she opened her mouth, no sound left her lips.

"He deserved it," sounded so clear in her ear, as if her mother stood right beside her, watching the same scene unfolding over and over again.

No, no, I can't let him die! I need to do something! Please, dad, you can't—

The man who stood proudly was dying, his body decomposing right before her eyes. A sickening view, as the skin melted off the meat, leaving only bones and tendons behind, covered by heavy clothes, two empty holes in his cranium instead of beautiful sparkling eyes. Blood dried on the white bones and sunk into the material of his coat and it flowed towards her, to the tips of her boots—

"Luffy! Arlong is here and he's after you, we have to leave now!"

The witch gasped loudly, her eyes snapping open. Nami, who just entered, was panting heavily, fingers gripping at the edge of the doorframe.

Who's Arlong?

She noticed Luffy who just got up from the chair he was sitting on, right by Zoro's side. Usopp had his fingers curled around one of the ropes holding the bed in the room hanging in the air.

There were no dead corpses around. Gosh, that nightmare was scary as hell. Her heart still drummed in her eardrums, blood rushing through her veins at an alarming pace.

She managed to get on her feet, her palm glued to the wall to support herself.

"Where do you think you're going, Luffy?"

Nami was panicked. Her fear grew steadily, just like fire, and she was on the edge of cussing out that entire bunch of confident idiots.

"We can't let Arlong hurt people just because of us. He might kill everyone if we don't step in."

Luffy was rarely so serious, but the situation asked for it. However, the navigator was anything but happy with his suicidal decision.

The witch turned her head towards the unconscious swordsman. She took in a deep breath, calming the waters threatening to destroy her mind. Then, her warm gaze raised back to the navigator who squeezed the map in between her trembling fingers.

"You'll stay here and protect the ship, Nami," Luffy smiled reassuringly. "I trust you."

The orange haired woman searched for a different reaction from the witch, but received the same determination.

"Have you all grown insane?" she whispered in horror.

The witch made slow steps towards her and engulfed her in a warm hug, wrapping her arms around the navigator's body. She squeezed her gently, resting her chin on Nami's shoulder.

"Something is troubling you greatly. Don't lie to me," the witch whispered in her ear softly. "You've got something in your head and you're pushing all of us away. We trust you, even if it'll bring us our death."

That's what scared Nami the most.

The witch parted just to look into Nami's troubled blue eyes.

"We'll be alright. We have to be. We'll figure it out together."

She had no clue how much Nami wanted to believe her, but it was impossible to do so. The navigator knew better what danger awaits them in Baratie now that Arlong appeared, that monster—.

Right. That's what pirates were: monsters. So why did the ones in front of her look like friends instead of demons stealing her life away?

The witch squeezed her shoulders and smiled so warmly, so calmly, different from the agitation they would face.

For one second only, Nami dared to believe. Then, it crumbled to her feet when Luffy and the witch left her room with one glance back at Zoro.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch found herself in the restaurant once again. Her fingers gripped tightly at the gun she held, finding comfort in the familiar weight settled in her hand. On purpose, she stood behind the other three men, sharp eyes scanning her surroundings carefully. They were lucky they chose to enter from the first floor, since she could easily hide.

She wasn't hiding for the reasons some would think of. The witch intentionally stood on the side, analyzing the situation. First of all, she had to find the smallest opportunity to find a weak spot for that fishman. From her spot, still glued to the wall and hidden from everyone's eyes, she focuses on Luffy's conversation with Arlong.

"I expected someone… bigger," Arlong commented with a wide grin, sharp teeth on full display.

He could definitely be classified as scary, but the witch didn't want to admit that to herself. Was he dangerous? Of course.

"Me too," Luffy commented.

Alright, maybe Luffy had far more confidence than she thought, since he dared to make fun of that fishman, angering him. It wasn't enough that Luffy was hunted down by Arlong, he had to make him angry as well—

What was she scared of?

She took in a deep breath and a few seconds were enough for her heartbeat to beat at a normal pace. The witch didn't have enough time to worry about consequences, she had to find their weakness quickly and act on it.

While her focus slipped from them, Luffy was already walking down one of the two pairs of stairs meeting up at the first floor of the restaurant. Arlong threatened the straw hat about something and the first thing she heard was the deafening sound of a shotgun.

The same sound was followed by a soft chiming filling the silence.

Her chest tightened since no groan of pain could be heard from anyone. When she glanced at the people downstairs, she saw Zeff — the cook who stitched Zoro up — with a gun pointed at Arlong. However, the fishman only turned his head back and cocked an eyebrow at the cook.

The bullet was most probably what caused that chiming sound. It seemed like fishmen's scales were bulletproof.

Fucking great. Her long range fighting style wasn't to her advantage.

An ounce of fear uncomfortably gnawed at her courage. The witch hated that helpless sensation, as if there was no escape, as if that was her dead end.

Her fingers gripped tighter around her gun, until the skin turned yellow.

I can't chicken out now. I don't have the luxury of turning my back against a fight in such a critical situation.

She swallowed the lump in her throat after she bit so hard onto her lower lip she tasted copper on her tongue.

Everyone has a weakness, right? Fishmen must have one as well.

On the floor below, Luffy threw his stretchy arms at Arlong, with his hands curled into fists. Zeff was harshly thrown into a table that broke down, making Sanji jump into action as well. Usopp was the only one that remained upstairs, uselessly hiding behind the decorative wrought iron railing — he could be easily seen.

Crouching down to Usopp's level, the witch slowly walked towards him with the gun still in her hand. When his eyes fell on her, he blinked like a confused owl.

"Guns don't work!" he whisper-shouted at her, horror painting his features.

With a sigh, she grinned cheekily.

"Are you running, scaredy-cat?" she taunted him with an arched eyebrow.

"Are you insane?" he frowned when she was a few inches away from him. "You can't seriously believe your gun is gonna do any damage to those monsters."

Glancing down between the iron bars of the railing, the witch spotted other two fishmen getting up from their table. So there were three in total.

With an unusually serious tone, she stared into Usopp's eyes, determination oozing out of her.

"You can't run now, Usopp. I hope you're aware of that."

"Even you hesitated for a second!"

His nervous demeanor and his over-thinking habits got the best of him at that moment. He was equally scared and amazed by the witch's courage.

"That was before I realized there's no going back. Usopp," she lowered her tone, fingers gripping at his shirt to bring him down from the clouds. "If you choose to run away, you will never become a brave warrior of the seas. Do you hear yourself? We're not running anywhere. We have to fight if we don't want to leave Luffy and Sanji to deal with the fishmen on their own."

She wasn't exactly good at motivational speeches, but that seemed to shake his soul well enough.

"Now help me find out their soft spots so we can bring those idiots down before they destroy this entire restaurant and eat us alive."

Bullets couldn't penetrate their scales. She didn't know if blades could work any better either. Also, Arlong alone had the highest bounty in the East Blue, not his friends. He was most probably much stronger than them.

If she could bring down at least one of the other two fishman, it was also a win.

Then, an idea popped into her head.

Their eyes.

They didn't have anything protecting their eyes except for the fact that they were sunk into their faces. With her aim, she had a chance to shoot one of them. She had to take advantage of the fact that no one knew she was there and making a plan.

Taking in a deep breath, the witch placed the gun between the iron bars and aimed at the fishman with ridiculously big lips. She wasn't exactly that far away, but she had to concentrate. One single miss and everything would go down, since her presence would be obvious and her hand to hand fighting skills weren't that well developed against raw strength.

She waited patiently, Usopp still by her side. Once the fishman stood still, turned towards her, she pulled the trigger of her gun.

The bullet struck his eye and he groaned in pain, receiving a proud smile from the witch who quickly hid behind a table from upstairs, dragging Usopp with her. Her heartbeat was so fast in her ears it could leave her deaf.

She had to pull herself together.

"You've got good aim," Usopp's voice trembled.

"Thanks," she breathed out heavily, eyes closing for a second.

There was an entire tornado in her soul. The witch knew there was no place for running away, but she was equally aware of her disadvantage against fishmen who fight with their fists.

Zoro would've loved the thrill of this fight.

But he wasn't there to joke about her being a scared little lady.

And Nami wasn't there to yell into her face and tell her to wake the fuck up and help her find a better plan.

Before she had a chance to notice, Usopp was crawling down the stairs on the left once an idea popped into his head, or that was what the witch thought.

She felt a certain presence walking up the stairs on her right and her eyes widened. The other fishman spotted her.

"Here you were, wench," he spoke with a growl.

She didn't have enough time to scramble to her feet before a rough hand wrapped around her neck and lifted her up in the air, pushing her against the wall. She could barely even groan when her breathing was restricted by the awfully strong grip the fishman had on her throat.

Her gun fell from her hand and hit the floor with a weak sound.

Uselessly, her fingers grabbed at the muscled blue arm holding her up, feet a few inches away from the floor. Compared to him, her grip was weak, insignificant.

The witch was never the type to necessarily wish to live, but she certainly didn't want to die in that moment, when others' lives were hanging on a thread.

Also, she didn't want that ugly fucking fishman with big lips to be the last sight before she closed her eyes forever.

Dammit.

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