#wait does she even know Merry is in the well

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Your boyfriend Zoro being transformed into a girl would involve…

Roronoa Zoro x reader. NSFW!!

*****

💚 You and Zoro have been together for a while. He’s not the most affectionate of men, but he makes sure you’re aware how important you are to him, and you enjoy a solid relationship, built on love, trust and reciprocal support.

💚 One day, in the course of one of your adventures, the crew decides to split: Zoro, Luffy and Nami leave, while you remain on the Merry with Usopp and Sanji. You soundly kiss your boyfriend goodbye, vaguely melancholic at the thought of having to spend more than a few hours apart for the first time since you both joined the crew, and he whispers in your ear that he’ll miss you, but you are both otherwise unconcerned, reasonably sure you’ll see each other soon, safe and sound, him with a good story to tell and you with his favourite meal -that you asked Sanji to teach you to prepare- ready to celebrate his return. Zoro and the others will be gone for two or three days at the most, what can go wrong in so little time?

💚 You will later reflect that this is the sort of thing one should never even think, let alone say it out loud like you did, lest destiny find a way to punish your optimism with some terrible accident or misfortune. And this is exactly what happens to your boyfriend - or at least, that’s how he sees it.

💚 You, Usopp and Sanji have spent the last three days harboured at a peaceful little town, waiting for your friends to return; bored, but mostly relaxed and confident Zoro will be back soon, you leave the Sunny to go buy a few things your chef had forgotten when shopping for supplies. When you return, you’re immediately excited to see Luffy and Nami talking to the others on the deck, which means your boyfriend must be back as well! “Where is Zoro?” you ask happily after greeting your friends, and they exchange a look; no one answers, but a sudden tenseness envelops your little gathering. Nami and Luffy look particularly nervous, as if they had something unpleasant to tell you “What is wrong? Hasn’t he come back with you?” “Zoro is fine, (name).” Nami tells you in the end, which is much less reassuring than she probably intended - rather, it fills your heart with dread. “What do you mean? Why shouldn’t he be fine?” you ask, your words not making proper sense given how suddenly alarmed you are “Is he sick? Wounded? Where is he?!” You’re informed Zoro has locked himself up in his cabin as soon as he and the others returned; you’re welcome to go see him, even though he might not want to come out. “He is safe and sound, truly; just… he’s not exactly the m-the person you knew anymore.”

💚 You’re informed that on that very morning Luffy was attacked by a trio of bounty hunters who had recognised him from his bounty poster; Zoro immediately came to your captain’s rescue, and one of the opponents hit him, not with a weapon or a simple punch, but with a single finger pressed against your boyfriend’s forehead. “We… think that man had eaten a Devil Fruit, and that he just meant to distract Zoro and escape, because he wasn’t hurt; rather… he changed.” “What does it mean, changed? What happened to Zoro?” you ask anxiously, your mind already filled with catastrophic images in which your boyfriend has been transformed into an animal, or a monster, or aged to the point he could die any moment; whatever happened to him you know you will remain by his side, your feelings deep and steadfast enough not to change whatever modification his appearance might have been subjected to, but you’re scared he is now in some kind of danger, longing but unable to return to normal. 

💚 Your friends seem unable to explain what happened, so they simply ask you to go talk to Zoro, to see it for yourself; you do, almost running below deck until you reach the door of your boyfriend’s cabin, that you know almost as well as you do yours. “Zoro, are you there? Please, open up!” you call him, knocking with increasing energy “Whatever happened to you it’s fine, we can deal with it together, I just want to make sure you’re alright!” You receive no answer for a while, until a slip of paper appears in front of your feet from under the door. I’m fine. Please leave me alone, the short message says, which not only is not reassuring in the slightest, but wounds you deeply: even though you and Zoro don’t talk often about your feelings you thought you would always support each other in times of need, making the other’s problems and fears your own. If Zoro prefers to deal with whatever misfortune happened to him alone, does it mean he wouldn’t help if something bad happened to you? Hurt, you still insist, demanding to see him or at least that he explains his situation to you; you even threaten to break the door down and enter, whether he wants it or not. At that point, finally, the door opens, and after three days you finally find yourself face to face with your boyfriend - because it’s still substantially him, just a version you never thought you would get to meet. 

💚 You hadn’t stopped to wonder why Zoro had written you a message instead of talking to you through the door; if you had, the reason would have been immediately clear as you stare at each other, him tense and embarrassed and you who need a minute to realise what actually happened to him. He’s still human, the same age as before, but his body has somehow changed, shrinked a little bit. His arms are still muscled but slenderer, his hips narrower, his hair appear to have grown in a day as much as yours would do in five years, and his chest… his chest… 

💚 For a whole minute neither speaks. “You’re a girl.” you observe in the end, and Zoro nods, clearly unhappy with his current predicament. “I look ridiculous, I know.” he complains, and you would beg to differ, since Zoro is an extremely attractive woman, like he was an uncommonly handsome man the last time the two of you saw each other, but you have more pressing matters to deal with. “Are you alright? Do you… I mean, does it hurt?” you inquire as you enter and close the door behind yourself, and after a moment of reflection Zoro admits he feels no pain, his gaze lowered to contemplate that body he doesn’t feel as his own. “Mainly it’s… strange; as if I were wearing clothes of the wrong shape and size for my body, or if I had to move with a different set of limbs. I mean, it’s not the end of the world, I can move and talk and fight, but this is… I don’t even know what to call it, but it’s wrong! Listen to my voice, look at me, this is not me, and I don’t want to be a girl! No offence, but I want my body back as soon as possible.”

💚 Zoro’s worst fear, since he didn’t get the chance to question his attacker -If I find that guy I’ll cut him into sashimi for what he did to me!- before the man escaped, is that the transformation the bounty hunter subjected him to is irreversible, or that only the man can return him to normal, since Zoro doesn’t even know his opponent’s name. Fortunately, on that at least you can help him, since you are the daughter of a scholar who has spent all his life studying and cataloguing Devil Fruits, and knows more on them than most people in the world; you quickly call him with your Den Den Mushi to ask for his help, and your father immediately recognises the fruit that caused Zoro’s transformation. The change, he tells you, lasts proportionately to the length of the physical contact between the user and the victim: since the bounty hunter only touched Zoro for a couple of seconds before taking advantage of his confusion to escape, your boyfriend should have his body back within a few weeks - a month at most. “Oh, thank goodness.” you comment relieved, while “A month?! Are you shitting me? I can’t remain a girl for a whole month!” Zoro cries out; when your father admits there is no way to hasten his return to normal, he sighs, thanks him for his help, and lets himself fall on the bed, his face in his hands.

💚 A moment later you’re by his side once more. “Don’t look at me, (name), I look horrible.” he asks you as he avoids your gaze, but you still circle his -now marginally less wide- shoulders with your arm to pull him close. “Horrible is the last word I would ever use; to be honest I might be jealous, because you must be one of the prettiest girls I have ever met.” you sincerely tell him “I know it’s weird and uncomfortable, but at least we know you’ll be back to yourself soon… -ish. That’s what you were worried about the most, right?” “Yeah, but…” “No buts, Zoro. I’m sorry if you are upset and ill at ease, but you scared me half to death! Did you plan on remaining in your cabin until your body returned to normal, without even knowing if it ever would? And why wouldn’t you tell me about it? I’m your girlfriend, didn’t you think I would want to help? Wouldn’t you help me if something was wrong and I didn’t know how to deal with it?”

💚 Zoro quickly, confidently nods, and you heave a sigh as you are confirmed you weren’t the problem, rather your boyfriend was simply embarrassed of what had happened to him and couldn’t bear to see your reaction. You kiss him on the cheek, and “I’m glad you came back; I missed you terribly.” you murmur, and Zoro smiles faintly. “You really don’t mind?” he asks, his voice now less deep but perfectly recognisable, the timbre and the cadence still those of the young man you spend as much time as you can with, and who understands you like no one has ever done. “Well, it is a bit odd to see you as a girl.” you admit “But I’m mainly happy to know you’re fine, and that you’ll return to normal in a short while. Luckily for you I have a long experience in being a girl, so I can help you with that and teach you everything you need to know.” Zoro grins, and then he hugs you tight, and you hug him, and everything is alright once more. 

💚 Resigned to not spend the next month locked up in his cabin, Zoro follows you to the ship’s kitchen, where the others are gathered; both Usopp and Sanji -who had already been informed of what had transpired, but there’s a difference between knowing and seeing- stare at him, mouth hanging open, and your chef has the time to point out “You look lovely today darling, did something with your hair?”  before Zoro stares at them with such ferocity neither of the two has the courage to utter another word. “A month, eh? Well, it could be worse.” Luffy comments with a shrug; clearly the fact that his first officer is a girl changes absolutely nothing for your captain, and, you reflect, why should it? “They’ll have to call you Pirate Huntress now. Hey, you guys want to eat? I’m starving!”

💚 After dinner, you and Zoro share a bottle of saké as you look at the stars on the deck; you hold hands, content with each other’s presence, a pillow behind your backs, until your boyfriend feels the call of nature. Realising this must be the first time he has to deal with the most intimate part of his new anatomy, you delicately ask him whether he wants you to -err- assist him, since the experience might be new for him, but your boyfriend mumbles that he doesn’t need to be potty-trained like a three-year-old and the mechanics of the feat shouldn’t be an issue despite his lack of experience. He leaves, returns ten minutes later, and silently sits back next to you. “It’s the second I have ever seen.” he mentions, and you turn to look at him. “And whose was the first?” you ask innocently; Zoro grins and throws the pillow in your face, making you both laugh.

💚 The next thing to do, you decide on the next morning, is to find some suitable clothes for Zoro’s new body, since neither your nor Nami’s things fit him. Your boyfriend insists there is no need to waste berry on it, since those very clothes would become useless in a month and he can easily make do binding his chest and tightening his belt, but you’ve finally found a way to convince him to come shopping with you, and so that very afternoon you drag him to a large shopping centre to play dress-up. Zoro is clearly ill at ease, or indifferent in the best of cases, as the two of you move among the various stores, and asks you to pick clothes he can train and fight comfortably in; you obey, but insist on also buying things that compliment his figure and look, as well as feel, good on him. You also help him choose new underwear, to try on which Zoro remains in the dressing room for a long time. “Is everything alright in there?” you ask from the outside, and you hear him utter a very unladylike grunt. “How do you fasten this damn thing?!” he mumbles, frustrated.

💚 Having received his permission, you join him in the dressing room; Zoro is only wearing a pair of panties, a bra in his hands, and this is the first time you get to actually observe his new body. You look at him, really look at him, and for a whole minute words completely fail you. You’ve always known he looked beautiful, ever since you found yourself shily stealing glances after he had discarded his shirt to train or unconcernedly changed his clothes in front of the others, long before you realised your feelings went way beyond simple physical admiration and the two of you got together. He still looks good, you quickly decide -toned abs and arms and shoulders, and then his chest soft and perky, his legs long and shapely, his buttocks round and firm- no, he looks amazing, and for some reason you find yourself blushing as you observe him, half wishing that elegant, athletic figure was yours and half…

💚 “So? Are you going to help me or not?” Zoro asks impatiently as he hands you the bra, which you quickly take and help him fasten; an hour later you’re back at the Sunny, both carrying bags with your purchases, and your boyfriend says this was a wasted afternoon, but then smiles at you, kisses you on the cheek, and thanks you for the help. Later, you’ll find out he took advantage of a moment you were distracted to also buy a shirt you had liked and chosen for him in your size, so that you can wear them together. 

💚 On another occasion, you and your boyfriend go out for a date on your own, as you regularly do; you visit the town’s most picturesque neighbourhood, and then sit in a bar for a drink. It is then, as you chat pleasantly, that a man approaches your table from behind and “Hello, pretty thing; can I buy you a drink?” he asks. Zoro, who knows how uncomfortable that sort of approach makes you, immediately turns to shoo the man away… and remains completely flabbergasted as he realises that the person the man is leering at, unashamedly staring at their chest… is him. “I’m not interested.” he states in the end, but his admirer is not deterred. “Come on, darling, I can buy one for your friend as well…” “I’m not your darling; and she’s my girlfriend, not my friend; I’m on a date with her and we’re not looking for more company, so back off!”

💚 The situation quickly degenerates; Zoro tries to intimidate the man making sure he sees the three swords your boyfriend carries with him, but his assailant just laughs, and it takes a well-aimed fist to the face, as well as the intervention of the bar’s owner, to make him leave. “Is everything alright?” you ask a few minutes later, as Zoro stares at his drink, shoulders hunched and a dark expression on his handsome -beautiful?- face. He nods, and “I’m fine.” he reassures you, and then hesitatingly, as if unsure of how to express his thoughts “Is it always like this when it happens? So… unpleasant. I know being approached like this bothers you, but I felt… dirty. Like, I could imagine the sort of things that man was thinking about me, about my body; it felt horrible. And why the hell didn’t he back off when he realised I was armed? Usually it works.”

💚 “It was probably because you’re a girl now. That man couldn’t know you’re a formidable swordsman, but he probably felt less threatened by you now than the men you usually defend me from. I know, it’s humiliating.” you add gently noticing Zoro’s despondent, almost ashamed expression, as if the fact he can no longer intimidate other men made him feel guilty “There are so many powerful female pirates and fighters in the world, but many men still things women are delicate, innocuous creatures whose only place is in the kitchen and who have been created expressly to take care of men and indulge their every whim.” “I never thought that. Never.” “I know, Zoro; I wouldn’t be your girlfriend otherwise. Thank the Gods some men are different… and I fell for one of them.” You smile at him, and he smiles back, but your boyfriend is still unsure. “I have never made you feel like that, have I? I mean, I love the way you look, but there is so much more…” “Zoro, no; you’re my boyfriend, I like it that you find me pretty and flirt with me. I’m sorry if that man made you uncomfortable… and if it happens again, I promise I will intervene to defend you, like you do for me. Deal?” Your boyfriend finally smiles, and the two of you can return to your date. 

💚 The next day, Zoro comes to you with his long hair tied in a ponytail and a large pair of scissors in his hand. “Can you cut it for me? I tried to do it by myself but I can’t reach it.” he explains, and you insist on doing things properly, washing his hair before cutting it. “I guess I should feel relieved you didn’t try using your sword to do it.” you mention as Zoro joins you in your cabin returning from the bathroom, rubbing his long, thick mane of hair with a towel. “No self-respecting swordsman would use their weapons as mere working tools, unless it’s a life-or-death situation.” he points out seriously “Cut it as short as you can, please, the way I wore it before.”

💚 You end up haggling about it for a while. You, envious of the lush, velvety hair your boyfriend has been blessed with after his transformation, beg him to leave it long, or at least to let you try to cut it in a way that valorises it and him; you could braid it, or arrange it high on his head, and you don’t know if he ever wondered how he would look with blonde or black hair, but you could buy a product to dye it! You bet he would look amazing, and in any case in a month he will have his short green hair back, what harm could it do to experiment a bit? Zoro is much less enthusiastic. Long hair would need to be groomed, which would only mean wasting time he would rather spend training -or with you- he has no interest in seeing how other colours would look on his head and most importantly, he doesn’t want his hair to get in the way as he fights. Don’t many women keep their hair short? Why shouldn’t it be the same for him?

💚 In the end you acquiesce, since after all it’s your boyfriend’s hair and not yours, and decide for a haircut similar to Nami’s, without bangs or a fringe that might bother him. Zoro sits perfectly still as you work, using a comb and a smaller pair of scissors, apparently not at all worried you could end up making a mess of it. “My sword teacher had all the girls’ mothers cut their hair short before they started training at the dojo.” he mentions after a while. “That sounds… wrong; couldn’t they tie it up or make sure it didn’t bother them in some other way?” you ask, not wanting to criticise a man you have never met but finding the order improper nonetheless. “He said it meant renouncing vanity and other feminine weaknesses to embrace the way of the sword with humility and abnegation.” Zoro explains “I did always think it was excessive… especially since the sensei himself had longer hair.”

💚 You feel quite a bit trepidant as, having used a towel to rub your boyfriend’s hair, take a mirror so that he can have a look. “I hope it doesn’t, err, look too terrible; if you don’t like it we can find a salon in the next town we dock at…” “I like it; I like it very much.” he assures you as he looks at his own reflection “It’s different from what I had before, but… yeah, it’s good. You did good, where did you learn to cut hair?” You admit it was your mother who taught you, first cutting your hair and then so that you could help her do the same to your -several- younger siblings. “Maybe one day, after we have found the One Piece, I could become a professional hairstylist and open a salon.” you joke, and Zoro grins before kissing your cheek. “Thank you.” he murmurs and you smile at him. “Don’t mention it; it was fun.”

💚 Speaking of kisses. It takes you a while -five days, to be exact- to realise you haven’t kissed Zoro since his transformation, if you don’t count the sweet but chaste, quick pecks on the cheek you often exchange when parting or greeting each other. You wouldn’t know how to explain it: your relationship has always been loving, even though neither of you enjoys public displays of affection, and while it’s still odd to have a boyfriend, a version of Zoro, who has to wear a bra and whose voice is suddenly much less deep than what you were used to, you wouldn’t say you are upset, let alone repulsed, by his new appearance, and physical contact between the two of you, be it as you cuddle in bed, walk with his arm around your waist or sit with you between Zoro’s open legs, still feels perfectly natural, without uneasiness or embarrassment. Still, he catches you a little off guard when he does kiss you properly for the first time since his return. 

💚 You have just fought a brief but bloody battle against a band of enemies, who had boarded the Merry to chase you away and steal it from you; two members are sword users who immediately confront Zoro. Even outnumbered, you and your friends emerge victorious, and as the others spread on the ship to check it wasn’t damaged during the battle, you reach your boyfriend, noticing his arm is bleeding profusely. “You’re wounded!” you cry, alarmed, as you tear a piece of cloth from your skirt and use it to bandage the cut “We need to stop the bleeding, Gods, I hope it doesn’t…” Zoro interrupts you mid-sentence, not ordering you to shut up -he never would- but pressing his lips to yours in a kiss, intense and desperate and hungry, while his good arm holds you close by the waist; it lasts only for a few seconds, too short for you to have the time to reciprocate, but it’s enough to make your heart soar and a pleasant, well-known but still exciting warmth fill your belly, especially when you feel Zoro’s tongue slip past your lips to caress yours. When you’re finally about to return the kiss and circle Zoro’s shoulders with your arms, he suddenly steps away, using the hand of his good arm to cover his mouth as if to forbid himself to kiss you again. “I’m so sorry.” he murmurs, inexplicably ashamed “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to, I just…”

💚 You can’t begin to understand why he looks so upset and regretful -it was a lovely kiss, and he’s your boyfriend; why would he need to apologise?- but decide to wait before asking for an explanation, since Zoro’s arm is still bleeding on the Merry’s deck. You don’t have a ship doctor yet, but thank all the Gods the wound is not as severe as the one Zoro had received during his fight with Dracule Mihawk; you clean and bandage it, while your boyfriend sits quietly in front of you, almost not daring to meet your eyes. “You want to tell me why you felt the need to apologise after you kissed me?” you ask in the end, taking advantage of the privacy of the moment, since the others have preceded you in the ship’s kitchen for dinner “Did I ever give you the impression I disliked kissing you, since the first time?” Zoro remains silent for a while; in the end, he bites his lip and “I just thought… you could dislike it now.” he murmurs “You told me you’re not attracted to girls, and I know I just have the body of one and you know I’m still me, but… I don’t know, I thought it might make you uncomfortable now that I look different.”

💚 “Oh, Gods, Zoro…” you murmur, as shame fills your heart; how could you not realise your boyfriend was uncomfortable and felt insecure about your relationship? Still completely focused on the novelty of his transformation, you haven’t even realised this had been your first kiss in five days! “I am so sorry…” “It’s not your fault…” “Yes, it is! I can’t explain it, there is nothing I love more than kissing you, but I sort of… forgot we did that? It doesn’t make sense, but please believe me, this changes nothing between the two of us! I’ve never been attracted to a woman before, but I really enjoyed kissing you, no matter what body you’re in… and I’d really like to do it again. After all we have five days to make up for.” Zoro grins as he stands to close the distance between the two of you, and a moment later you’re locked in an embrace, kissing each other senselessly, and feeling a feminine body pressed against yours and under your caresses is still a little odd, but it’s still Zoro’s body, your beloved, headstrong and impulsive but generous and protective boyfriend, and you didn’t exaggerate when you said that kissing him is the best, most amazing thing in the world. It still is. 

💚 When you finally part, several minutes later, you’re both out of breath, and smiling warmly to each other. “Good?” your boyfriend inquires, still a little insecure, and “More than good; it was amazing, as usual.” you immediately reassure him, as you still keep his hands in yours “And you can still kiss me every time you want.”

💚 One day, after the Merry has docked at a new island, you and your friends are visiting a town together when you hear your name called: it is an old family friend you haven’t seen for years. You’re about to introduce him to Zoro, but you can only say “And this is…” before stopping, not knowing how to continue, how to describe him and what name to use, and your boyfriend is quick to interject. “I am (name)’s girlfriend… Roronoa Kuina. Good to meet you.” he introduces himself shaking your friend’s hand, who clearly doesn’t suspect anything. You smile gratefully at your boyfriend, who grins and wink at you; from that day on, Kuina is the name you and the others use when having to call Zoro in public, mainly after he has wandered off in the opposite direction to the one he had to take.

💚 You know about Kuina, of course; Zoro told you all about her, how knowing, and losing, her has shaped him into the man he is today, and how one of the reasons he intends to become the world’s strongest swordsman is to honour her. You’re not surprised your boyfriend chose the name of his late friend as his own to use until the Devil Fruit’s effects disappear, but you hadn’t realised how Kuina’s memory is affecting Zoro now that he also has a woman’s body until one afternoon, as you keep him company while he trains, you see him stop, and swear, and abruptly leave his swords on a nearby crate, almost shaking with frustration. “I feel weak.” he exclaims helplessly when you ask him if he’s alright “Much weaker than before, and I hate this.”

💚 You easily understand the reason for his bitterness. No matter how deadly and capable as a warrior he still is, Zoro’s feminine body is smaller than before, his muscles less developed, his lunge shorter, all of which makes him a less formidable fighter; your boyfriend has also noticed that, as he trains his body with push-ups and other exercises, he tires earlier than usual. “It’s not your fault; after all, women are on average smaller than men, it is natural that your body can no longer perform as it once did.” you comfort him after bringing Zoro a towel and a water bottle “You at least don’t have to worry, since you’ll be back to yourself in a matter of a few weeks.” He sighs, admitting that he doesn’t have much to complain about, but… “It’s unfair.” You rest your cheek against his shoulder, and “You’re thinking about Kuina, are you not?”, and Zoro admits he is.

💚 “She was a great fighter, you know? She had beaten me two-thousand times, and many pupils of our dojo had never been able to best her. She could have become the strongest swordsman in the world, I’m sure of it - or at least I was; but maybe she was right, and her father, because no matter how determined and talented and devoted to their training one is, our bodies are built differently and men have a natural advantage. I used to think the tragedy of Kuina’s life was that no one had faith in her abilities and in what she could grow to become, but maybe she had been unlucky from the beginning, because she had been born in a body too small and feeble to match the strength of her spirit.”

💚 You both remain silent for a while, lulled by the gentle waves the Merry is confidently sailing over, the quiet murmuring of the sea surrounding you. “Listen, I’ve never met Kuina, so I can’t pretend to know what she felt.” you begin in the end “And yes, the fact that most women cannot hope to match men physically is unfair; what I’m sure of is that Kuina appreciated you having faith in her and in her strength, since apparently no one else did. And I’m sure that when you do finally become the world’s strongest swordsman, no one will be happier for you than her - and me, of course.” The smile your boyfriend gives you in response is faint but sincere; he doesn’t speak, but he holds you close by the waist, close enough you can rest your cheek against his shoulder and enjoy the warmth of his body.

💚 One day, after a peaceful night spent sharing your bed with Zoro like you often do, you wake up to the sound of your boyfriend swearing out loud. “What’s wrong?” you ask sitting up on the bed, and he looks at you: he is standing in the middle of the cabin, his back turned, the shorts he wears at night discarded on the floor “Zoro? Are you ok?” He nods silently, embarrassment having turned his cheeks pink. “It’s my time of the moon.” he mutters, and you blink, still only half-awake. “Your what?” “This is what the women of my village called it. The blood. Do you have something I can use?”

💚 Of all the perks of being a woman you wish Zoro could have experienced so that the two of you could talk about it, you would have gladly spared him this, you think regretfully as you open the drawer in which you keep your menstrual products. Your boyfriend refuses to even try to use a tampon, so you pass him a package of pads, and see him leave towards the bathroom, hoping no one sees him. He’s in a bad mood for the rest of the day, doesn’t train at all for the first time since you’ve met him and remains in bed for hours, alone until you bring him a few well-tested remedies against period pain, as passed down through the women of your family: a hot water bottle, chocolate -that you asked Sanji to keep in store for you, expressly for cases like this- and your hands, which your use to massage his lower abdomen and ease his cramps. “I know it’s bad.” you murmur soothingly as Zoro avoids looking at you, his face hidden it’s pillow “But it’ll pass, and soon you’ll feel better.”

💚 “I feel terrible.” Zoro admits “Fat and weak and useless; Mihawk would laugh if he saw me in this state. How do you deal with it, (name)? A few times I’ve known when you had your things, and you never looked… well, the way I feel.” You admit the side effects you experience because of your cycle are not as dramatic as those other women have to deal with; you regularly suffer from cramps, but it’s nothing a hot water bottle can’t help you soothe, and you sometimes feel more irritable than usual, or irrationally angry… “Really? I never noticed.” Zoro jokes, momentarily distracted from his plight, and you elbow him in the stomach, relieved to have improved his mood. You end up cuddling a bit, and sharing a chocolate bar, and in the end your boyfriend rests his cheek against your chest, allowing you to pet his hair - something you know he actually likes, even though he would never admit it. “I can’t believe all the women in the world deal with this every month, for decades of their life.” he mutters “I can barely stand myself now, and I’ll only have to experience this once!” “Well, there are various remedies, both home methods and drugs a doctor can prescribe, but menstruation does affect your quality of life; I don’t think any woman is ever happy to find out they got their period… unless they feared they were pregnant.” Zoro looks at you. “Did it ever…?” “Once, a long time ago.” you quickly answer; you want there to be no secrets between your boyfriend and you, but that is not a memory you enjoy discussing “Long before I met you. Thank the Gods my period was simply late, and that experience taught me to be more careful.” Your boyfriend doesn’t comment, but he shifts to face you and takes you in his arms, the hot water bottle pressed between your bodies. “If something were to happen… or if you feel bad and need to be comforted, you can tell me; because of your blood, or even just if something bad has happened or you feel sad for any reason.” he murmurs “I don’t want you to think you have to keep these things from me.” You assure him you never thought you had to, but appreciate him reassuring you; you and Zoro share a smile, and hold each other for a little while.

💚 “Zoro, it’s been two weeks; it’s time to wax your legs.” “And why should I? My legs were hairy before, I never heard you complaining.” “Don’t be such a child! Come here, it will only take a moment…” “What the f- ...aaaAAARRRRGGGGHHHH…!

💚 Intimacy has never represented a problem with you and Zoro. You have started sharing a bed to cuddle early in your relationship, and a few weeks later you had sex for the first time, a slightly awkward but nonetheless loving and passionate affair; you know your boyfriend had never had a partner before meeting you, but what he lacked in experience he made up for with enthusiasm and determination to learn and please, and since then you have both learned how to share your pleasure and to explore each other’s bodies. You have thought Zoro was attractive since the day you first met, long before you started developing feelings for him, and you know the love you share has made sex between you more amazing, passionate and intimate. Nothing of this must necessarily change now that your boyfriend has the body of a woman… but what if it does? You do enjoy kissing him, very much indeed, and never felt there was something weird in sharing your bed with him after the transformation, given how pleasant it still is to feel Zoro’s warm body spooning yours, one of his arms protectively curled around your waist, or to snuggle against him, listening to his breathing with your cheek against his chest. Sex, on the other hand, is a different matter, or at least you think it could be; you’ve never been interested in women sexually, and while your love for Zoro hasn’t faded or dwindled since his transformation, you fear dealing with his, err, lady parts could turn out to be difficult. You would only have to be patient for a few more days before things return to normal and the two of you are free to spend the whole night making love, but it’s been more than two weeks since he become a girl, longer than it’s ever been since the last time you did it, and you’re starting to feel frustrated to use an euphemism. You could propose Zoro to try, but you don’t want him to feel disappointed if you do get started and then you decide you’re not into it and want to stop; your boyfriend is smart enough to understand your reasons without doubting of your affection, but still, it would be the first time your desires don’t align, and that is an experience you’d like to postpone for as long as possible.

💚 What to do, what to do? Propose an activity that doesn’t require an intimate contact, so that you can both find your relief without you having to discover what Zoro looks like under the panties you bought for him? Resign yourself to remain chaste until your boyfriend is back in his own body and you can jump his bones? Neither of those options seem appropriate, nor satisfying. Zoro, on his part, has never asked you to spend your nights together doing something other than sleeping, but you’re sure he’s thinking about it, both because it’s never been so long since your previous time and because you can feel his gaze linger on you, on your body, when you wear your bikini on deck to sunbathe or take a swim, or when his pelvis presses against your buttocks as he spoons you in bed. The poor man deserves to be pampered given everything he’s been through, but you know without the need to ask that he wouldn’t want you to do something you’re not sure about or that makes you uncomfortable, and the last thing you want is for him to see you recoil from him or admit you’re not attracted to the body he’s in…

💚 You spend several days agonising over the problem, which then solves itself when you stop thinking too much and let your instincts, and your heart, decide for you. The crew has gathered in a club to celebrate Luffy’s birthday; a toast to your captain -and future King of the pirates!- becomes two and then three and four and in the end, more than a little inebriated, you take Zoro’s hand to pull him towards the dancefloor. Your boyfriend, who swears he was born with two left feet and only submits himself to that torture for love of you, this time doesn’t even complain, which suggests he is also at least a bit inebriated. A minute later the two of you are dancing, locked in an embrace, the sensual tune of the music making your hands daring as you naturally, instinctively begin touching each other - something you have always avoided doing in public, even though none of the other dancers pay attention to you. “You look beautiful tonight.” Zoro murmurs, and there is something in his eyes as his hands, until now resting on your hips, slip downwards to grab at your buttocks, that makes you tremble, a hunger and desperation only barely kept under control; it’s not the first time that he looks at you like that, quite the opposite in fact, but it’s one of those things that never fails to have an effect on you, no matter how many times you experience them. You sigh as, moving with a grace you never thought him capable of, Zoro gently circles your waist with his arm to keep you close; your pelvis presses against his, and then a moan escapes your lips, drowned by the deafening music but loud enough your boyfriend can still hear it. You blush. He smiles. You kiss him. He licks your lips with his tongue. You press your knee between his legs. He moans. You grin. He raises a hand to caress your breast through your shirt. “You wanna go back to the ship?” you ask. He takes your hand. A minute, and a hurried conversation with your friends, later the two of you leave the club together.

💚 You start kissing furiously while you’re still on the deck, laughing as you almost trip on your own feet in the rush of reaching the closest cabin. As you finally close the door behind you, already panting as Zoro’s hands finally slip under your skirt, he suddenly stops and looks you in the eyes. “I don’t want you to…” “Shut up and kiss me.” “Yes ma’am.” In the end, everything is vaguely awkward but easy; after all you are a woman, you know your body and what makes it tick, and so it feels surprisingly natural to gently, carefully do the same to Zoro. He is unexpectedly shy as he takes his clothes off, and “It looks normal, right?” he stammers “I mean, I had never… seen another naked woman, apart from you…” You reassure him that he looks beautiful, and he really does, he is amazing and attractive and precious, and you are grateful, once more, he has chosen to share this part of him with you, especially now that he doesn’t recognise his body as his own. “Let’s take it easy, alright? No pressure, no rush.” you suggest, and your boyfriend nods silently. 

💚 You begin kissing each other again, and then caressing, and then stimulating, and things develop naturally from there; at the end of a few hours of slightly awkward but nonetheless passionate lovemaking, you fall asleep, peacefully holding each other. During the night Zoro spoons you from behind, and when you wake up on the next morning, the first light of the day coming through the tiny windows to fill the cabin, you remain still as you wake up, content as you enjoy the intimacy of your lover’s embrace, as you have done countless times already. That state of things is so natural and ordinary, in fact, that it takes you a while to realise something is not as it should be - at least, compared to what you had slowly started to consider normal in the last few weeks. “Zoro?” you ask, your eyes still closed, and “Mmmggh?” your boyfriend grumbles from behind you, still half-asleep. “Is that your cock I feel against my butt?” You feel him jump, and then the rustling of a sheet, and then a relieved, triumphant laugh. “I’m back to myself!” Zoro exclaims, and as you sit and turn on the bed you can see it with your own eyes: your boyfriend is back in his own body, gloriously naked and deliciously masculine, and half-hard as it is sometimes the case when he wakes up. He seems to have returned to the exact state he was in when the Devil Fruit user touched him: his hair in a masculine cut, his legs a little hairy - but not much: for a man your boyfriend is relatively glabrous. You smile at each other. “You feel alright?” “I feel great. Twenty-eight days; it took less than I thought. Now…” he adds as he slowly advances towards you, a wolfish smile on his handsome face “Not to say that last night wasn’t very pleasant, but you want to celebrate having your man back?”

💚 You do, and when you finally leave your cabin, two hours later, your friends are happy and relieved to see Zoro back to himself. Later, he makes a pile of all the clothes he no longer needs, and since they don’t fit you nor Nami, he decides to keep them aside until he finds a use for them. “What did it feel like? Now that it’s over, was it so terrible being a girl?” you ask him later, as you enjoy a moment of peace together, standing against the side of the ship; Zoro, his arms to his now flat chest, thinks about it for a while before answering. “It was weird, obviously, and… difficult. I mean, I never realised how hard it is to be a woman. It’s like… well, I can’t blame you if you sometimes feel as if the whole world were out to get you. Your very body makes things more difficult.” he then ponders thoughtfully “I’ve never considered women weak, but if I had this last month would have changed my mind.” He smiles at you, his fingers intertwined with yours “Thanks for being with me these past weeks; I don’t know what I would have done without you, what with the clothes and the period stuff. If you think about it… this made it a little easier for me to understand what you feel. So it was kinda useful.” You tell him you’re glad to hear him say that; you never had reason to think Zoro didn’t care for you and your feelings, but it is indeed a good thing if this experience made it easier for him to understand you a little better. It made you closer, which you can only be happy about.

💚 “Was sex good?” “Of course it was; I mean, it was a little strange, but when it’s the two of us it can only be good, right?” Zoro mentions, and smiles “Do you think you like girls too, now?” “I… don’t think so; as you said, last night was good because it was the two of us, I liked it because I was having sex with you, not because I was touching a girl.” you reflect, and then, thoughtfully: “Maybe we could find this person who transformed you, and ask him to turn me into a man for a short time. You know, so that I can experience both things as well… and then maybe we can have sex as two men. Would you like that?” “Err... ” “Maybe I can do to you what you did to me this morning.” you suggest, making your boyfriend blush. “Thank you, I think I’ll pass…” “Pity, I wouldn’t have minded…”

💚 You share a grin, and a laugh; Zoro’s arm circles your shoulders, and you rest your cheek against his chest. Man, woman or whatever else, his very presence and closeness comforts you, and you know in your heart Zoro is your life mate, the other part of you, your bond stronger and deeper than any other; the last month has been an experience that will not happen again, an accident that you overcame without too much of an hassle, but you know in your heart that if the transformation had been permanent, if Zoro were stuck in a woman’s body for the rest in his life, you would have kept loving him like you love him now, and he would have done the same if you had been turned into a man. You don’t need to ask him; you know for sure.

💚 Zoro sighs, holding you against him. “I’m glad I’m back.” he murmurs, and you smile as you return his hug. “You never left, darling.”

[mallleus]

I think a lot of things people don’t realize in the opla is that Kaya is all alone now. Her cook, her maid, and one of her butlers her family trusted, betrayed her and killed her actually loyal butler, Merry. Then usopp leaves to become a pirate.

Who does she have now? The people she could truly trust are gone. She’s alone now.

[revasserium]

Pining Zoro and blind-to-it Reader?

un-certainly

opla!zoro; 3,422 words; fluff fluff fluff so much fluff, straw hat!reader, fem!reader, (seeminlgy) clueless!reader, lots of pining, banter, teasing, smitten!zoro, the whole nine yards

summary: in which everyone knows zoro's got it bad for you, except for you, of course.

one.

“so… i should just… talk to her.” zoro says uncomprehendingly, blinking at an exasperated nami, who has to take a long, steadying breath to keep from shoving him overboard. the waves beneath them are calm, the day above them, a gorgeous, endless stretch of blue so brilliant it almost pains the eyes to stare.

nami resists the urge to pinch her nose bridge as a dull ringing starts to echo in her ears.

“yes. sweet god — just go up to her and say ‘hey, i think i might like you’ and i guarantee you, things will go from there.”

zoro shifts his tightly knitted arms, squinting at her as if she might be lying or purposefully luring him into a trap, “go? so there’s a chance it could go badly.”

this time, nami really does drop her face into her hands, groaning loudly.

“well there’s always a chance it could go badly —”

“sounds like a bad idea to me.” zoro looks away, eyes still narrowed as the light sea breeze ruffles his hair, a colony of news coo squawking loudly overhead, one of them dropping down to careen towards the going merry, landing on the thick white railings next to them, ruffling it’s feathers as nami pushes off to dig in her pocket for some berry.

“oh! newspapers here!” your voice makes both zoro and nami jump, and a second later you’re bounding up the stairs to the forecastle deck and stuffing some berry into the news coo’s bag. your arm brushes by zoro’s as you lean over to offer the news coo a piece of dried shrimp, which it considers for a second before leaning forward and gobbling up.

nami gives zoro a soft shove from his other side, leveling him with a meaningful look before turning and making a show of going to check on her tangerine grove.

zoro doesn’t have time to glare before the news coo takes off with a pat-pat-pat of wings, leaving you and him very much alone on the sunny fore-deck. he purses his lips, casting about for something to say even as you hum happily to yourself, your arm still painfully close to his as you unroll the newspaper and flip though, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil of the man standing next to you.

“uh — anything interesting?” zoro asks, desperate for something, anything to fill the silence.

you shrug, “nope… just the usual — uptick in piracy along the coast, tightening of marine patrols…” you turn and cast him a grin that makes his stomach twist inside him like a contortionist from buggy’s freakshow.

zoro clears his throat, thumbing absently at the hilt of his swords before taking a deep breath.

“hey — uh…”

“hm?” you turn towards him, with your wide attentive eyes and your stomach-curling smile.

zoro blinks, his gaze flickering from your soft button nose to the way the wind twines its fingers in the loose strands of your hair. two twin pearls glitter from the lobes of your ears and he feels the tension melt from him as he sucks in another breath.

just say it, nami had said, just tell her.

really, how hard could it be?

“i uh — there’s something i wanna talk —”

“wait, hold still,” you say, your eyes going wide as you lean forward suddenly and zoro’s visions tunnels in around him — you’re close, closer, too close/too close/too close!

your fingers card through his hair and he has to bite back the shiver that rockets down his spine as you pull your hand back with a black-tipped feather.

“the news coo left you a present,” you say, laughing as you offer him the feather.

zoro considers it for a second before taking it from you.

“it could’ve left worse,” he says, recalling the few times that he’d gotten bird shit in his hair.

you giggle; the sound makes him want to scream but instead, he settles for clearing his throat again.

“now, you make a wish,” you say, nodding towards the feather in his hand.

“never heard of that before,” he frowns slightly, “thought you could only wish on dandelion seeds and…” he waves at the endless stretch of sky above you, “shooting stars and stuff.”

your smile is so wide that zoro thinks his cheeks might start to hurt for you.

“haven’t you heard that rules are meant to be broken?” you ask, offering him the feather again. he looks at you, then at the feather, and the back at you.

“okay — i wish —”

you squawk flapping your hand, “no! you can’t tell me what the wish is! otherwise, it won’t come true!”

zoro smirks, cocking an eyebrow, “i thought rules were meant to be broken?”

you blush the most darling shade of red and he decides to take it easy on you (and, honestly, himself). so, he plucks the feather from your hand and closes his eyes, making a soft, silent wish. a wish that, in truth, he’d been making since the moment he met you.

when he opens his eyes, it’s to find you staring.

“kay. now what?” he asks, rolling the feather between his thumb and forefinger.

“now…” you gently tug the feather from him before opening your palm and letting the wind whisk it away, “you let the sea take your wish. and if you’re worthy, it’ll grant the wish for you!”

zoro lets out a breathy laugh, “if i’m worthy? and how’s it supposed to know that?”

you lean in, and if it were anyone else, he might’ve been annoyed, but with you, somehow, he finds himself charmed.

your voice is conspiratorial as you whisper, “because… the ocean knows all the secrets the sky can’t keep.”

two.

at dinner, with you by his side, usopp detailing some imaginary adventure, nami laughing, sanji blowing smoke rings towards the middle of the fire-lit deck. your cheeks are pink from the wine everyone is passing around and for a second, you bump into him and turn — he turns towards you too —

your eyes catch like unsuspecting fish to a bobbing hook and zoro feels his stomach tug as you grin up at him, the night sky caught in the flutter of your lashes.

he can’t help the way his gaze flicks down to your lips, and then back up again.

“feel like sharing?” you ask, nodding towards his half-finished bottle.

wordlessly, he hands the bottle to you and watches as you bring the mouth to your lips and take a long drink. he tracks the soft bobbing of your moon-lit throat and feels his own mouth go dry at the sight.

across the fire, sanji watches with a growing smile and nami rolls her eyes.

“oi, moss-head — mind if i take a swig too?” sanji asks as you hand back the bottle, dragging the back of your hand across your lips, and zoro turns to pin sanji with a glare.

“get your own,” he says, before polishing off the rest with a few hard sips and tossing the bottle into a rapidly growing pile.

zoro licks his lips and tries not to think about the way your lips had fit around the bottle just right; he tries not to wonder if you’d taste like wine. or, if he’d even have the mind to think that far if you were to let him kiss you.

three.

“… and then, you pull it through… like this?” you slowly bring your arm through a swiping movement, your hands clutched around the hilt of a wooden training sword. zoro sighs, shaking his head.

“uh — not quite — here,” he pushes off from the barrel he’s sitting on to circle around behind you, wrapping one hand around both of yours, the other palm curling around your middle to press against your stomach, “you’re breaking in your waist again — keep your core tight and —” he helps you swing the sword through in a swift arc.

“oh.”

it takes him a second to realize how close you are, how he can feel your entire back pressed against his entire front, how perfectly you fit into his arms, how easy it’d be to hold you to him and never let go.

“so just… practice that a few hundred times,” he says, stumbling back as his cheeks go hot and he feels the inexplicable urge to toss himself into the calm, saltine waves below, if only to cool down just a bit.

“will you practice with me?” you ask, your smile wider than the sky is wide — zoro is sure.

he blinks at you for a second before making a show of sighing and rolling his eyes.

“ah… i guess i could use a bit of practice too.”

he pulls out the wadou ichimonji and takes his stance next to you.

“ready?” he asks.

you nod, glancing over and adjusting your posture.

“okay, how many are we doing?”

zoro casts around for a number, “a thousand.”

“zoro!”

“five… hundred?”

you cast him a look that makes his stomach flip inside him.

“how about we start with a hundred, and then i’ll see how i feel from there?”

zoro clicks his tongue, smirking, “i could do a hundred in my sleep.”

you make a show of rolling your eyes, “fine then — go take a nap!”

zoro huffs as he clears his throat, “right then — let’s start — one, two —”

you squeak as you hurry to catch up, jumping as he reaches out a hand to correct your posture.

up on the foredeck, luffy watches with usopp by his side.

“hey! i wonder if zoro would teach me sword tricks if i asked!”

usopp sighs, clapping luffy on the back even as he shakes his head.

“uh — not that i think he wouldn’t but … maybe you should just… let them do their thing, yeah?”

four.

“i think you really should tell her,” luffy says, slapping zoro on the shoulder, a bit harder than he’d intended. zoro winces, pressing a palm to his chest — still sore from their recent raid.

“i don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

luffy laughs, leaning forward against the railing, “nami said you’d say that.”

zoro fights the urge to scowl as he sighs, his eyes narrowed at the damnably calm horizon. at least if the weather weren’t so nice, he could make up an excuse to leave but —

“really, what’s the worse that could happen?” luffy asks.

zoro grunts, shooting luffy a sidelong look, “oh i don’t know, she doesn’t feel the same and shit gets awkward and —” he waves a hand at the going merry, “the crew falls apart.”

thankfully, luffy doesn’t pause to call him out on for once not denying it.

instead, he lets out a contemplative hum, “hm… yeah, that could happen. but… i don’t think it will.”

inside his chest, zoro’s heart clunks, strange and uncoordinated.

“why? she say something to you?” he can’t keep the curiosity from his voice, the stomach-squeezing anticipation he’d only ever associated with the heat of battle and a really good fight. but now, he feels it whenever you get too close, and he wonders if he can go insane like this — if one day his heart might just give out.

“nope!” luffy’s voice is too bright, too cheerful, and zoro feels himself rolling his eyes before he can stop himself, “i’ve just got a feeling!”

“a feeling.”

“yeah! and — have a little faith! the straw hat crew isn’t that fragile.”

with that, and another hearty clap to the shoulder that leaves zoro hissing in pain, luffy clomps off towards the kitchens, where sanji is already doing dinner prep. zoro lets out another sigh as he straightens, carefully stretching his arms to test the range of motion.

above him, a flock of migratory geese fly southward in a soft, arrowhead formation. zoro holds up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he watches them pass overhead.

a single feather flutters down towards him and he finds himself reaching out to catch in the palm of his hand.

a wish, huh, he thinks, twirling the feather between two fingers before casting around to make sure no one else can see him. satisfied that everyone else is either too far away or below decks, zoro closes his eyes and makes a wish —

alright roronoa, please. don’t fuck this up.

five.

“ahem.” zoro clears his throat after dinner, making a point to down a couple more drinks than usual. he’s never been one to believe in liquid courage, but… it couldn’t hurt, right?

“can we, uh, talk?”

you smile a smile that threatens to crack his chest wide open, nodding.

“sure! what’s up?”

across the room, sanji visibly stills but nami catches his eye and shakes her head ever so slightly.

“c’mon… not in here,” zoro says, jerking his head towards the hallway that leads to the decks above.

“what’s got you so secretive all of a sudden?” you ask as he leads you all the way up to the crows nest, reaching down to help tug you up, letting his hand linger in yours as you grin up at him.

“i’m allowed to have secrets,” he says, turning to stare out at the darkened sea, the summer moon hanging low and full-bellied over the glittering waters, the stars winking like so many all-seeing eyes.

“we all are, but… i thought we’d gotten all your big ones after that one night the whiskey bar —”

zoro coughs, “alright, alright — don’t need to bring that up again.”

you laugh, leaning forward to pillow your cheek against your crossed arms, propped up along the edge of the crows nest.

“so? what’s this new secret, then?”

zoro swallows, “uh — wouldn’t exactly call it new.”

“alright then, an old secret.”

“not super old, either —”

you turn to look at him, half-exasperated, half-amused, but when you catch sight of his expression, you still, pressing your lips.

“zoro? is… everything okay?”

he ticks his tongue against his teeth and lets out a long breath, as if bracing himself for something before he says —

“yeah. i think —” he clears his throat again, trying to recall what nami had said about just saying it and he tries again.

“i think i might like you.”

the coil in his chest feels tight enough to snap, but you’re quiet as he turns to steal a glance at you.

“oh,” you say, you expression curiously contemplative as you look out over the darkened seascape.

zoro has to physically stop himself from shaking you by the shoulders — say something, goddamnit! say anything!

“so…” he says, knitting his arms across his chest instead.

you turn towards him, your eyes bright as twin stars.

“you think you might like me, right?” you ask, and for a second, zoro can only blink down at you, completely thrown by your lack of reaction. of all the things he’d imagined you doing — everything from getting angry to apologizing to throwing yourself at him with an impassioned speech about how you’d felt the same since the beginning — this was not one of them.

“uh… yeah, pretty sure that’s what i said.”

you cock your head, a quick, bird-like gesture that makes zoro’s heart skitter inside his chest, threatening to leap from his mouth as you continue to stare up at him, completely unabashed.

“ah… so what do you think we should do then?”

zoro stares, “… do?”

“yeah, because if you’re not sure if you like me… we should do something to make sure, right?”

and it’s then that he sees the soft, playful uptick of your lips, the glittering darkness behind your eyes. the tension in his chest seems to loosen even as he lets out a breath, chuckling before quirking an eyebrow and taking a step towards you, caging you in against the crows nest’s edge.

“mm. you’re right — i can think of a few things we could try, though.”

“yeah?” you voice is little more than an exhale on the wind, but it’s the last thing zoro tastes before he finds his lips on yours.

as far as kisses go, zoro would later think back, it was a pretty damn good one.

it started as a slow kind of kiss, a soft, unfurling of breath on breath, and then lips on lips. the ghost-friction of promises made and kept and unbroken, the first spark to a fire that had been threatening to consume him since the moment he’d heard you laugh.

and then — just like that, he’s kissing you. and you’re kissing him back, the gravity and inevitability of it making his head spin even as he presses in closer. it is sweet and warm and trembling — soft and hard and deepening. he runs his tongue along the seam of your mouth and savors the way you gasp open for him.

just him.

he swallows it like he wants to swallow you, reaching up to sink his fingers into the silk and gossamer of your hair, pulling you so close he can feel your heartbeat thrumming against his chest, your nails as they curl into the linen of his shirt.

it takes everything inside him to pull back, and everything else left not to dive right back in again. you’re both panting, a little breathless, and zoro — a lot relieved.

“so…” you say, your tongue flickering out to lave across your bottom lip.

zoro doesn’t try to stop his eyes as he tracks the spine-tingling motion.

“so?”

you grin, biting back the shiver that chases through you at the deep, base rumble of his voice, echoing from his body to yours.

“what’s the verdict? have you decided if you like me yet?” you ask, batting your lashes even as he watches your own eyes drop down to his lips. a dark, warm, purring satisfaction curls inside his chest at the way your pupils dilate, black as the night, bright as all her favorite stars.

“hm,” zoro hums, leaning down to skim a knuckle along your jaw, slowly guiding your face towards his again, “dunno… jury’s still out… might have to try it a few more times. y’know… just to be sure.”

“mm…” you sigh as he leans down to graze his teeth along your pulse point, fingers tightening around your waist as he feels you tremble in his arms, “y-yeah… wouldn’t want you to be —” you hiccup as he sinks a soft bite into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “uncertain.”

“no…” and his voice is all groan and gravel as he lets himself breathe you in, “we certainly wouldn’t want that.”

bonus.

far below, beneath the decks of the going merry, sanji takes a long pull from a post-dinner cigarette, his lips twisting into a concerned sort of frown.

“it’s been a while since they’ve been up there. think we should go check on them?”

luffy shugs, still happily picking at the remains of the turkey carcass sitting in the middle of an oblong plate.

“they should be okay — i mean, they say that no news is good news, right?”

“uh, not sure that applies to this kinda thing,” usopp says as he makes to peak out of the nearest window.

nami swirls her drink, “i think they’re fine. and we’d hear if zoro threw himself off the crows nest, right?”

across the table, sanji blinks and luffy pauses in his munching.

“whoa, you think he’d really do that if she rejects him?” usopp asks, his face going a little pale.

nami rolls here eyes, “no.” and then a moment later, “but really, we’d hear him if he jumped, right?”

luffy licks his lips, shrugging, “dunno, probably though. he’s pretty heavy so he’ll make a pretty big splash.”

sanji taps a bit of ash into his empty bowl and lets out a long suffering breath.

“yeah, y’know really, no news is good news.”

[shanastoryteller]

Merry bday! A continuation of Enola Holmes marrying the viscount of Basilweather would be really cool 😀

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

She wrinkles her nose when Tewksbury passes over her cup of tea with two sugars, unstirred, and she knows.

She puts down the cup too quickly, blood pounding in her ears, and Tewksbury frowns, reaching for her hand. "Enola?"

"Got to go," she says, pushing herself to standing, almost just leaves him sitting there, hand outstretched, but he's her husband and she loves him, so she darts over to smack a kiss on his lips before she's running for the door.

"Enola!" he calls out again, but now he sounds less worried and more exasperated, which is better, which is good. There's nothing for him to worry about.

She wants her mother, who's banned from London and is causing political unrest in Southern France currently, or Edith, who's doing something clever and illegal in Scotland. She'd take Victoria, but Mycroft will be there, and he's the last person she wants to see right now. Sherlock, while beloved, is useless, but his boy is a doctor.

She drops in at 221B Baker Street, picking the lock like always, and is relieved that Sherlock is still asleep and decides not to have any opinions on the various bones scattered about the kitchen table. She assumes there's a reasonable explanation for them.

"Oh, Enola!" John grins and shoves some femurs to the side to make space at the table. "Here, join me, would you like some oatmeal? Are you looking for your brother? I can wake him-"

"I'm pregnant," she blurts out, then bites her bottom lip.

John blinks once, then twice, then says with a gentleness that had made her like him in the first place - because Sherlock wanted to be gentle, but was quite bad at it, so someone had to teach him - "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

Wanted seems like not the correct word, although of course it is, because she and Tewksbury had been, not trying, but not-not trying, which probably amounted to the same thing, considering how often they - well.

"I can fix it," he says, voice low and serious, "if it's something that needs to be fixed."

Enola lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "No. No, it doesn't need to be fixed."

She loves that he offered. She loves John, more her brother than Mycroft will ever be, sometimes even more her brother than Sherlock is. If nothing else, her brothers had picked their partners well. Victoria and John are a delight.

John is the functional one between them, explosions and skeletons notwithstanding. John is the one that coaxed her brother into a proper relationship and John is the one that knew they were like parents to all the Irregulars and John isn't normal but he grew up normal.

"Are you worried something's wrong?" he asks. "I can look you over."

"No," she says, although, "I mean, yes, that'd be nice because Tewksbury will go spare, but no, I'm not worried anything's wrong."

He leans back in his chair, looking her over, and after almost ten years of dealing with her and Sherlock and even occasionally Mycroft he can read them almost as well as they can read everyone else.

"It's alright to be scared," he says finally. "Lots of women are when they find out, even when it's wanted, even when the baby's healthy."

"I'm not scared," she says, but for the first time her words feel like a lie. "I shouldn't be scared. What do I have to be scared of?"

She wishes her mother was here.

Will her children miss her like this too?

Sometimes she misses her mother even when she's right in front of her, and if nothing else, she's her mother's daughter.

John gets to his feet, stand in front of her, and opens his arms. She looks away even as she steps forward, like if she doesn't look at him when she does it then it doesn't count as weakness.

His arms close around her. He smells like chai and antiseptic and it's only years of association that make the combination comforting. "I can't wait to be an uncle."

He'll be an uncle. Sherlock will be an uncle. Even Mycroft, and Victoria will be delighted to be an aunt, and to raise her children with Enola's. Of course there's her mother-in-law, and Tewksbury's uncle, who have been angling for her to have a child from the day they married.

There's Tewksbury, who loves her, who isn't going to die on her or leave her if either of them have anything to say about it, who isn't going to leave her to raise their children the way her mother raised her.

Alone.

She's been saying she wasn't going to do this alone from the beginning, but standing here in Sherlock's kitchen, with John holding her steady, she really believes it.

[periprose]

Fly Away

Michael Berzatto x Reader

You're a family friend of the Berzattos and you're invited to have fun at their annual Christmas dinner. You think you still harbor feelings for Carmy, but as the evening progresses, you feel something for his brother.

Genre: friends to lovers, former crush on carm, really everything w carm is mostly platonic, unrequited stuff, insecurities, age gaps (reader and carm are 25, Michael is 38), takes place in 2017, takes place in S2E6, lots of angst, anxiety, some fluff, no use of y/n (you have a nickname: Birdie)

Word count: 11k

There’s a bauble and trinket everywhere you look. Festive, Christmas spirit seems to ebb from the very walls of the Berzatto household– and you would be remiss not to compliment it vocally in some way.

Donna is clearly waiting, teetering on a response from you as you take everything in from the front door. And you know how she reacts if you don’t say things in that perfect, supportive tone that she so desperately thrives off of.

“Wow, Mrs. Berzatto!” You clasp your hands, trying not to seem too cloying or ironic. “I love what you’ve done with the house. Such an eye for details.”

“Oh, stop.” She giggles, and lightly taps your shoulder as she takes your coat and hangs it up in the closet. 

“No, really. I wish my house was so… Christmassy this time of year.” You shrug, knowing that your dad isn’t the festive type after divorcing your mother.

“Aw. Well, we have love to spread here.” It’s a strange unseen sympathy coming from Donna, and she pulls you inside, and you take off your shoes, shuffling around in your socks and your comfy, hopefully chic, green loose turtleneck sweater. “Except you might have to wait a bit, because some of these fuckers are late.”

There’s that bitter tone you remember from Donna. You don’t really care for that– you tend to have an avoidant personality especially with how your own mother acts sometimes– and she yells out for Carmy and Mikey to greet you.

“Boys! Birdie’s here!” She calls from the stairs, and you suddenly feel self conscious.

Ever since your dad, a former co-worker and friend of Cicero’s, starting taking you as a teenager to these Berzatto hangouts, you have always had a eye for Carmen. It was hard not to be, seeing this bashful, slightly angry, awkward boy, around the same age as you, with dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. You felt like sometimes, he really, really listened to you, and that was all you needed.

You wish you could be there for him too. 

It’s something you’ve never acted on, never bothered to actually approach him about– he always seemed so absorbed by his own thing.

You relished in the fact that he never had a girlfriend. You felt secure in that, because he just seemed safe. And it’s not like he would’ve been mean about rejecting you if he knew– you were always close to the Berzatto siblings. You were Bear and Birdie, ready to head out on a walk together, while the adults gossiped and drank.

Of course, you haven’t seen him in about… two years now. Around after he left to his apartment, and did his chef-education-training (you’re a bit vague on the details, honestly), and ever since then, as far as you know he’s slowly been doing what he loves. He does text you from time to time, but you’d be overstating those texts’ importance if you pretended it really quantified a relationship.

Mikey clambers down the stairs, wearing what looks to be pajamas, or very chill homebody clothes, and he raises his arm in a big, Italian gesture.

“Oh! Is that little Bird I see?” He exclaims, and pulls you into an eager hug. Maybe a little too eager– you think it’s almost as if you’re comforting him as you hug him back, his face coming down onto your shoulder, as he encapsulates you– and he pulls away, grinning.

He actually looks really good. You don’t know when you started thinking that Mikey was good looking, but it’s true– he has a certain, rough around the edges appeal that you find yourself drawn to.

“Merry Christmas. You’ve been keeping away from us.” Mikey points as you, intended as a stern remark, but you snort.

“Yeah, Merry Christmas. I’ve been busy with work and law school, Michael. I’m not a kid anymore.” You resist the urge to comment on his beard, and then do it anyways. “Are you sure I’ve been keeping away? You’re the one with a hermit-ass beard.”

“Oh… they grow up and just start taking shots at you, don’t they, Ma?” Mikey places his hand over his heart, as if he’s wounded, and Donna shakes her head in agreement, before heading back to the kitchen, already seeming annoyed about something. “Beards are fashionable in 2017, Bird. Maybe come back to our current time– no reason for you to start dressing like a grandma already.”

You scoff at that, pointing at your sweater. “It’s semi-formal, c’mon! It looks nice. Respect the gathering’s rules.”

“It’s my house, babe.” Mikey leans in with maybe a little too much comfort, his eyes shining with some warmth, mirth even, and you don’t exactly pull away– the guy is like thirteen years older than you, and even if he does kid around, play up an older brother thing, you’ve started feeling like he’s restraining something more as of late, maybe some primal level of attraction that he knows better than to mess around with. You know that the feeling is kind of mutual– but you really don’t know how to quantify it. “I’m man of the house, and I say you should wear something that maybe, uh, shows off the pretty twenty-five year old that you are.”

The last part of this sentence has you swallowing a little, and you feel your face turning warm, and Mikey himself looks embarrassed that he’s said it, that he’s given a bit of evidence to your theories– he seems to brush something off, inside himself. 

You have never thought you were all that. You’ve always been pretty sure you should be glad that you’ve gotten by without having to worry about your looks. The idea of wearing a nice, somewhat revealing dress to the Berzattos’ house has you cringing, because you know it would just be… bad. 

“I’m not–” Mikey scowls at himself and you can visibly see himself fighting something, looking a little anxious, and you tentatively grasp his forearm.

“I know what you mean. I’m not offended.” You smile slightly, making the effort to calm him down a little, because you would never want Michael to beat himself up over you (he really seems to do that as of late and you know you’re not worth the trouble), and he nods and inhales. “You look good, too.”

“Right. Right on, Birdie. You can do what you want, anyways. Not up to me.” He seems to really dial back some of what he said, and before you can respond, Carmy walks downstairs.

“Hi. Hey, Birdie. Merry Christmas.” He says, kind of quietly, and you find yourself somewhat happy to hear him say your nickname again. Carmy looks especially nice– deep blue has always been his colour, it brightens up his eyes– and he has slightly longer hair than you remember. 

He leans in for a brief but firm hug, and glances at your eyes once, before looking towards the floor again.

Mikey nods and proceeds to exit to the kitchen, and you’re left with Carmy grappling with what to say.

“How have you–”

“How’s law sch–”

Carmy coughs awkwardly, and you find your face turning warm as he looks towards you.

“Sorry, Bear.” You let him speak, hoping not to scare him away. “How’s everything? You okay?”

“Yeah. Uh… well, I’ve been training at Copenhagen?” He furrows his brows, runs his hand through his hair. “Just learning as much as I can.”

“Oh. Uh-huh.” Your curiosity is piqued– you didn’t know he was in Denmark, much to your disappointment– but you want to pry more of an answer out of him. He doesn’t seem interested in talking about it more than that. 

“Sorry. Sorry. Stupid answer, there’s just not much to say.” Carmy shrugs, and then realizes suddenly that you’ve been standing at the foyer of the house for quite some time now, which isn’t very polite or inviting of him. “Wait, hold on. Let’s go sit inside and talk.”

Carmy makes some offhand comment about how you need to speak up sometimes and stop being so nice and accommodating to idiots like him, and you snicker, knowing that this is the Carmy you remember– snarky, ready to fight people on sometimes, even if he is a little weird and bashful. Although he’s short– he makes up for it with his resilience.

Carmy leads you through golden-lit hallways, a certain pepperminty, pine tree scent seeming to overlay the entire house, and there’s bushels and wreathes and mistletoe everywhere, and somehow even more baubles, ornaments, trinkets, knickknacks, all gold and red and warm tones that do make you feel a little fuzzy.

Carmy sits you down in the living room, on the sofa, and you’re next to him, and you place a foot under your knee, trying to feel casual. Not freaking out about him sitting right next to you. Weirdly enough… you don’t think you feel anything anxiety inducing. 

Perhaps you’re just getting more reassured of yourself with age. 

“So? How is Copenhagen, otherwise? I know Denmark is really interesting, but you’re probably busy with chef stuff, huh?” You prod just a little further. Just out of your own personal curiosity to see how far Carmy will go for you, and he nods. “Any friends?”

“Ah…” Carmy winces a little. “Can’t say if he’s a friend yet, but there is this guy that’s out of this world with pastries. I don’t know if I can meet his standard on that.”

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. “Bear, you make my dad cookies all the time. Or, well, you used to. You can’t be that bad at it, considering that he always eats all of them.”

“Oh, really? Fuck, man.” Carmy looks at you in disbelief, settling more into his corner of the couch, closer to the tree, but looking more openly at you. You feel yourself cower a little under his watchful gaze. “I didn’t know your dad enjoyed them that much… I would’ve made more. Did you ever try them?”

“Hm?” You were getting lost in the details around Carmy– the dark blue shirt, the little bits of stubble around his jaw, the tattoos peeping out from under his long sleeves– and you nod. “Ah, I tried a batch around the last time you gave him some. I think it was… macadamia, matcha, white chocolate? Really good.”

Carmy is unreadable, his eyes flickering from the ground to your eyes– you think maybe you’ve embarrassed him a little– but he thanks you. “Where is your dad, anyways?”

“Ah. He’s got the flu, and he was kind enough to not want to infect you guys.” You admit. “Even though he was trying his best to walk over here from our house.”

Carmy remembers that you live in the neighbourhood over. You two used to hang out a lot during elementary and high school. He kind of missed you– something he’d never say out loud, but Carmy knows friends are few with him, and you were always a good friend to him growing up. You were always a comforting presence for him– you never asked him for too much, and he could tell you were being careful to do so. No pressure.

You just became really busy with law school, and he became really busy with chef stuff, and now you’re both… you both just lost touch. He feels bad about it– bad like he always does, with former friends and acquaintances from high school that he’s accidentally ghosted and lost– but at least you don’t seem to be annoyed about it. 

He thinks it’s probably because in this case, you pulled away just as much as he had to.

“How’s law school, anyways?” Carmy counts the years in his head. “You’ve either just finished or you’re in your final year?”

“I’m in my final year.” You stretch out your arms, looking eager. “It’s a lot of work– I’m only here because I’m lucky enough to have a bit of a break in the winter months, and I’m ahead on my courses. But, uh… I don’t know. It’s fun.”

“Fun? Wow.” Carmy grins a little. 

“What?”

“I don’t know, Birdie. Fun is more… fucking, I don’t know, fireworks or something? Drugs, maybe, yeah.” Carmy watches as you laugh, and laugh, at what he’s said, and again he’s never really sure what’s so funny about what he’s said, but he likes to hear you laugh.

“Clearly you don’t know either.” You snort, and lightly punch his arm. “When did we become workaholics?”

“Probably when we became, uh, adults and entered the workforce.” Carmy states, and you wrinkle your brows.

“We’re not really in the workforce yet, but–”

“What, really? C’mon. You’re a fucking receptionist or some shit, right?”

“Business administration specialist.”

“Yeah, there you go. That’s work, especially with all the school you have to do.” Carmy shrugs. “But what do you really want to be, then?”

“Oh, we getting into dreams, then?” You cock an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t think you cared that much, Bear.”

Carmy, for some reason he can’t detect, turns a little red. “No, of course I do. We’re still friends, right?”

“Acquaintances.”

“For real?” Carmy looks back at you, affronted, but you have a little smile and he knows you’re teasing. “Oh fuck you. Stop it.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You shake your head, giggling a little, glad to have so easily fallen back into a comfortable, friendly banter. “Of course we’re friends, it’s just that… I always thought very highly of you, Carmen, and I can’t always be sure that feeling was returned. You know? I assumed that you’d be out doing sophisticated cooking in big, upscale restaurants, and the rest of us would just be reading about it. Forgive me for feeling a little behind it all.”

“No, no, no. You got it all wrong, Birdie.” Carmy half-laughs at how you put him on such a pedestal. ���You were always the one doing real work, as Mom would call it. You’re the one who’s actually smart and good at arguing, debating– that’s a real skill coming from me, because I just yell fuck at everyone and hope it works. I always thought you were the impressive one out of all of us.”

You snicker, but you’re actually quite pleased with that, and you feel your heart warm at his praise. “Ah, that’s so sweet. Thank you. If it makes you feel better, I’ve been surviving off of ramen and convenience store food for the last month. I can hardly make the time to cook efficiently.”

“...” Carmy shakes his head. “That doesn’t make me feel better. You’re gonna eat good food today then, I hope.”

Almost as if on cue, Donna calls for Carmy to come help her with something– and you’re left sitting as he tells you that he’s going to hear about your dream job when he gets back.

/

Fifteen minutes later– Carmy is still MIA, and you’re starting to get a little hungry. 

You know it’s rude, but luckily Michael comes by and asks if you want a snack.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” You ask, and Michael snickers.

“You’re the same girl that can eat a whole number four combo at the Beef. I’m pretty sure you were hungry before you got here.” Michael jokes, and you blush in embarrassment.

“Oh my god, stop it.” You shake your head. “Anyways, yeah. A snack would be nice.”

Michael gives you a wink that strangely has you a little twitterpated, before you shake that off. He comes back a few minutes later, chewing on something himself– and he hands you a bowl full of Italian sausage stirfry.

“Thanks, Michael.” You smile up at him, and he nods, trying not to smile too much back at your gratitude, but he likes how you take a bite and look super relieved, happy with the food. He’s always loved giving food to people– taking care of them. Especially you, for some reason.

Michael heads back to the kitchen, and Natalie comes by and takes his place.

“Birdie!” She hugs you tightly, and you hug her back, equally happy. “Oh my gosh, if I knew you were down here I would’ve come by ages ago!”

“Aw.” You beam at her. “That’s okay, Nat. I’m happy to see you too.”

She’s off ranting about how Pete, her husband, is late, and how she can barely manage everything going on, and you’re sympathetic. You know Nat gets more of a harsh treatment from Donna, and you tell her that you’re there if she needs a person on her side.

“Oh, Birdie. I couldn’t do that to you. Even if you are amazing at talking, Miss Lawyer-to-be.” She lets you continue to sit down in your corner of the living room, as she heads off to check on her mom– maybe pour out some alcohol.

 Carmy comes back in, slightly powdered with flour on his forehead– and he sits back down, sighing, as he drinks a glass of water.

There’s the slightest air of awkward tension still– even if you and Carmy have fallen back into your old ways, he still keeps a slight distance, one that he’s grown into, and you feel that you have to break the silence. You don’t know if he’s just tired or if there’s some level of irritation of having to deal with all the holiday bullshit, but you take a guess it has to do with Donna.

“That bad?” You grimace, and Carmy matches your expression.

“That bad.” He shakes his head. “She always gets a little woo-woo around these fucking events. Like, I never wanted her to do all of this– but she insists and insists and doesn’t know how to let go of the, uh…”

“Hubris.” 

“Yes. Hubris.” Carmy sighs, glad you still have the perfect word for everything. “Whatever. Anyways, haven’t forgotten. Hit me with your dream.”

“Okay, it’s going to sound a little weird, but, um… I’m really interested in becoming a labour relations lawyer?” You feel almost too much glee at the fact that Carmy remembered, and you see Carmy bite his lip, a little confused, so you continue, hoping you don’t sound like too much of a fucking nerd. “Meaning to help employees get out of their shitty situations with wages, working hours, benefits and fight for their rights. Union stuff. I don’t know, just feels like everyone is struggling with this nowadays… might as well push forward and try to help them out.”

“Wow, now that you’ve said that, it makes a lot of sense.” Carmy blinks. “I mean, uh, it’s not just that you’re good at arguing– you always go for the justice part of things. Remember when Michael and Sugar were arguing about cleaning the basement?”

You do remember that. You suggested dividing up either equally or by who owned what, and they eventually came to an agreement based on that. Michael wanted to dip because he was older, and Sugar thought it was demeaning to ask a girl to clean.

“Or when Lee said that women can’t think analytically, or what was it… mathematically?” Carmy laughs as he watches your face turn angry again.

“Yeah. I especially remember that. I told him to think about Ada Lovelace and to shut up.” You wince. “Maybe not the most mature thing I’ve ever said. I don’t think that’s such a great thing… sometimes I don’t know when to let go of arguments.”

“It’s alright, it was funny.” Carmy plays with his fingers. “That being said, I think you’ll be good if you choose to be that. A labour relations lawyer. You’re smart, and god fucking knows we all need the help. You should check out how many chefs get fucked over because they work at places for the prestige of doing so.”

“Damn.” You make a mental note of that, feeling embarrassed over how much praise Carmy has freely given you. “Is that going to be you?”

“Doesn’t matter if it is. Sometimes you gotta do what you can.” Carmy doesn’t really give you a clear answer, and you feel bad for him. Bad that he’s still stuck in that mindset.

/

You can hear people hooting and jeering near the stairs, as you walk around the house, exploring a little. Tiff was grateful that you visited her for a brief moment– she told you being pregnant was not all it was cracked up to be– and now you’re just on the upper floor, near the stair railing, on your phone.

You’re not really one to eavesdrop, but you hear– you believe it’s Mikey and Richie– they’re chanting “Claire! Claire Bear!”

Your stomach drops, as you hear them hoot about how hot she is, whoever this Claire girl is– how stacked she is, apparently, the banging body she has, the glasses no longer ruining her appearance– and although you know it’s gross men talk, there’s a small, sad part of you that wants to be perceived as attractive, too. 

Still, even as you find yourself frowning and turning away in disgust, you can’t stop yourself from listening.

You remember her. Claire, one of the neighbours down the street. Went to the same high school as you and Carmy. She was really something, someone of note if you remember the popular kid cliques correctly, but she had largely gone unnoticed by you, and it wasn’t for any reason in particular. You can’t be close with every person in high school.

But still– you feel jealous. Just a teeny bit. What was so different about her?

Sure, she was a nice girl. But weren’t you? You arguably had more history with the Berzattos, and yet… it’s as if you’ve simply blended into the wallpaper, their assortment of home decor and furniture. You’ve always been here, and so you don’t stand out.

You might never stand out.

You can hear Carmy trying his best to argue against them, asking them what they did, telling them to fuck off with their teasing– but he sounds sheepish, embarrassed, righteously mortified in the telltale way one would be when they have a crush, and you feel sick. 

They’re heaping compliments on her. You know what they mean when they talk about her like this– she’s the clear, obvious choice, probably closer to the family, more interesting, more affectionate, a genius. You don’t really know Claire that well, but apparently, she’s perfect. And you know you, in your silly frumpy sweater, in your attempts to dress up– you are not. You feel humiliated that you even believed Mikey when he said you were pretty– he was clearly complimenting you just to be nice. 

You weren’t even an idea in their minds, not for Carmy, anyways. You don’t even think Carmy is capable of seeing you like that now, and it’s with a crushing blow that you realize you were holding out hope. Mistaking familiarity for affection.

It’s a rookie mistake. One that you thought you were self aware enough not to make, because you’ve always known Carmen Berzatto was just out of reach for you.

You wait for them to leave, and come down the stairs, running into Carmy as he groans in annoyance.

/

Carmy says he needs to wipe some of the flour out of his hair, and you let him go upstairs, not really wanting to look at him, doing everything you can to make your way back to the living room unnoticed. In the meanwhile, Michael comes back and flops into Carmy’s seat on the sofa, next to where you sit, sullen.

“Hey, Birdie.” Michael starts, and you can’t read his tone, and you’re a little annoyed with his fake-nice attention. “Why not sit with me, the Faks, Michelle and Stevie? They’re really good people, I promise.”

“How do you know I’m avoiding people?” You snap back, maybe a little too aggrieved.

“It’s written all over your face, little Birdie.” He touches his knee to yours, and you bite your lip, swallowing your confusion, and Mikey enjoys the fact that you’ve chosen to wear a deep, brick-red Christmas lip colour. It’s hot– he doesn’t get how you don’t seem to be aware that you’re attractive.

He wants to kiss you. Maybe mess up that fancy lipstick and that sweet, annoyingly justice oriented, always-right character of yours. But he keeps it to himself.

“Don’t be antisocial. You of all people shouldn’t be alone during the holidays.”

“I’m not trying to be antisocial. I promise.” You shrug, trying to keep your emotions, that sinking feeling in your gut at bay– the last thing you want is for Michael to see you upset. “I was keeping Bear company, but I can come sit with you guys.” 

“That’s my girl.” Michael pulls you up by the arm, and you can feel your face warming at his choice of words– you like being in Michael’s good graces, even if you feel less than great right now.

Michelle, cousin of the Berzattos, has always been sweet to you. She’s impressive in her own right, and as you sit down in front of her and Stevie– she gushes about New York.

“Ah, that’s not to say Chicago isn’t impressive. Right, Birdie?” She smiles at you, not unkindly, and you feel happy to be included. 

“Right.” You shrug, knowing that the law firm you work at isn’t all that crazy. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re nothing special, not after what transpired just a few minutes ago, and you voice it. “It’s just okay.”

“No, c’mon. You work at one of the top fucking law firms in the city– you’re gonna make it.” Michael admonishes you. “Out of us Chicagoans, I mean, Michelle, before you take offense.”

“Yeah, Mish.” Richie echoes, popping up out of nowhere.

“None taken.” Michelle fixes her eyes between you and Michael– perhaps reading on something that you’re not even really sure how to understand, let alone explain– and she laughs. “Anyways, what was I saying? Right.”

She launches into a story about hating a woman who didn’t understand the Berzatto name. It’s quite funny– you find yourself laughing every now and then, the dull ache in your heart less noticeable, especially with how good Michelle is at telling stories, and somewhere along the story, Michael’s hand has stayed intertwined with yours, without you really noticing. You only notice when he lets go, and again– a pitfall in your stomach, wondering if Michael just feels familiar around you because there’s nothing to be attracted to and thus respectful of– and it’s such a stupid thought, but you still just know you want to feel wanted. You want to get a hold on yourself– remind yourself you’re not owed attraction and there’s nothing wrong with Mikey or Carmy seeing you as just a friend.

You realize with a start that you’re feeling confused about Michael, too. Was it just a weird quirk of his, calling every single girl pretty just for laughs? Could you even trust what he said? Why does Michael’s opinion of you feel way more pertinent and important than Carmy’s does?

You find yourself mulling over these thoughts, not sure of what’s going on around you, and you hear Michael tell the Fak bros, Ned and Ted, to shut up about California, which they do.

Donna starts screaming in the background, which causes you to turn abruptly. “Oh, fuck me!”

Michael turns and looks at you with some caution– he’s used to his mother’s outbursts, but he never ever wants you to face them. You don’t deserve that, you’ve probably never done anything to deserve it. Not like him.

Stevie gets up, much to the surprise of everyone around him. “Looks like Auntie D needs help, huh?”

“No, no, no.” Everyone tries to stop him, including you.

“What?”

Michelle pushes him back down, but he gets back up, resilient. 

Lee decides to comment in. “Let him, why not?”

“I’m sure she could use a few extra hands. I’m going.” He goes, and you stand up to follow, not willing to let an innocent person get dragged into Donna’s insanity.

“Wait, Birdie. Where are you going?” Michael holds your hand again, and you turn red at his action– a little angry, a little glum that he seems to care for you, and you can’t even be grateful for it. “Don’t throw yourself to the wolves. It’s not fucking worth it.”

“Not throwing myself– just want to make sure Stevie is protected.” You move forward, your face stony, and Michael lets go of you, sighing as he wraps his blanket around himself, wondering when you got all pissed off, but glad that you’re not so upset that you wouldn’t act all lawyer-y for Stevie.

Lee is glancing at him, while Michelle looks pleased as punch.

“What? What the fuck are these expressions?” Michael looks around questioningly, and Richie gives him a side glance.

“When’d you get all sweet on her, bro?” Richie gags a little. “Not that she’s not your type, but, uh–”

“I’m just being friendly.” Michael dismisses him, leaning back in his seat. “It’s the holidays, she shouldn’t be lonely.”

“Bullshit you are.” Richie sniggers, and Michael lightly shoves him.

“Yeah, I call bullshit too.” Michelle grins. “I can see it– you’re blushing.”

Michael groans, hating to be so obviously vulnerable in front of everyone. 

“Well I, for one, think it’s a huge, fucking catastrophic mistake.” Lee starts, and Michael feels himself blanch under the judgement of this guy. “You’re going to ruin that young woman’s potential if you go around messing with her.”

“Lee, she’s not that young–” Neil starts. “I think she can decide that herself?”

“Whatever. This one knows he isn’t right for her– always wants what he can’t have.” Lee mutters, and Michael feels that white-hot rage– the anger he feels bubbling inside of him as of late. 

He does his best to swallow it down, but a part of him knows that it’s true. As much as Michael enjoys your random visits over the past two years, he knows– you’re too good for someone like him. Too young, too selfless, too honest and good and pretty, and he feels an overwhelming wave of shame that he came so close. It’s like he just… doesn’t know how to be a good, responsible person, and it kills him on the inside that he could be so shameful, be so abhorrent and take advantage of you like that, and even if there is a tiny part of him screaming that it’s not so black and white– that you could be just as interested, of your own volition, in him as he is in you– he feels guilt. 

Michael is ashamed of who he is. Over, and over, there’s that feeling again– kill yourself– that he doesn’t know how to suppress, and he ignores it as he starts up a new story.

/

Natalie is tearing up as Stevie hugs her.

You came towards them in the midst of Donna yelling for Stevie to get the fuck out of the kitchen, and Sugar shushing him and shoving him away, and you now place a hand on her shoulder– clearly Stevie has it handled, somewhat.

When he lets go, she sniffles and you smile encouragingly, albeit a little sadly, and Natalie wipes away a tear. 

“It’s okay. It’s fine, it’s nothing. You don’t need to talk to her.” She starts, and you shake your head.

“I’m not going to. I can see that would make things worse.” You squeeze her shoulders, and Stevie nods.

“Yeah, Natalie. But we’re here. We’ll always be here if you want to talk.” He tries, and you smile at her– but something about Nat’s slightly upset, off putting expression, and Donna’s grumbling in the background– you feel your heart seizing a little at the tense emotions, so similar to your own, and you excuse yourself.

You walk until you reach the pantry, hot tears already working their way down your face. Every single negative emotion have come to a head, and you’re in terrible danger of having to explain things if you don’t get it together in under ten minutes or so.

You sit on the high table in the pantry, trying not to cry anymore than you already have, your head between your knees– but something about today has all your nerves on edge, and you know it’s because you put in some effort to come here, to see your dear friends, to look appealing enough, to be someone worth talking to, and now you feel as if they never really cared about you at all. 

You know these are lousy, immature feelings. You know you can be above them if you really, truly tried, but you let yourself sink into them further, because something about this environment is terrible and you just can’t let it go.

Even worse, no one has really done anything wrong. If this was a court case, you wouldn’t even have any evidence to make a claim. You’re simply confused, perhaps looking at things from the wrong angles– but the fact that you can’t look at this rationally makes you feel worse. As if you’re not as smart as you believed.

You don’t know how long you’ve been in here, when you hear someone shuffle into the pantry, next to you– it’s Michael.

He’s quick on his feet– you try to move away, let him grab whatever household ingredient he needed– but his full attention is on you as his eyes narrow, scanning your tear stained face and your hunched over body.

“Birdie?”

You can’t quite look at him, and you desperately try to wipe your tears, burying your face more between your knees. 

“Hey, no. Birdie.” He shakes his head, grabs your arms. He thinks it’s a little strange he’s had to cheer up two different people in the pantry, but he chalks it up to how his house always is. “What happened? Was it Ma?”

“No.” You sight and swallow down the sobs in your throat.

“Then what was it?” Michael’s eyes turn steely. “Fucking ‘Uncle’ Lee? Asshole. Told me I can’t finish any fucking businesses.”

“But… you run the Beef, don’t you?” You say, amid sniffles, entirely honest about it, and Michael’s eyes soften. “That has to count for something.”

“Yeah, little Bird.” He’s glad to have you here– he doesn’t care if it’s fucked up, not when you’re the only person on his side at this moment. “But why don’t you tell me what’s up?”

“I–” You shake your head, and feel your head hang heavy as you slouch over the table, and Michael leans over you, pressing your head to his chest, and you feel yourself crying silently into his shirt, as he shushes you and combs back your hair, his other arm caressing your back.

Michael’s not the best person– not the most comforting to be around– but he knows, by being an older brother, by being someone people want to be around, he knows how to make it count when he does give in to comfort. 

He just wishes he didn’t feel so goddamned depressed himself, so he would know the right things to say. He doesn’t want to be so useless all the time.

“Mikey?” You voice is timid. Small. 

He feels both elated that you would trust him with this, and devastated that he’ll never be good enough to deserve your trust. 

“Yeah, Birdie?”

“It’s so juvenile, but I…" You shake your head and decide to commit to it. "I wish I was pretty."

“Is that it?” Michael’s arm wraps around your shoulder as he squishes onto the seat of the table, next to you. “You think you’re ugly, huh?”

“I don’t think I’m–” You inhale deeply, and wipe away your tears again. “It’s not about being ugly. It’s more like an objective reality that I have to accept. I’m just not… I’m not anything special to look at.”

“Wow, kid.” Michael tuts and shakes his head. “Ever heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? That stupid fucking mantra, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s true.” Michael almost starts laughing, but you look so solemn and serious, he resists the urge. “You’re not ugly. You might not think you’re all that, but you don’t see what I see.”

Michael tenses, and you watch as he falters over how to explain.

Michael thinks you're so damn annoying with that ardent, sweet expression– even if your tears are staining your face, you still look so grateful to hear him say those words– and it just crushes him. It crushes him to know that you look for his approval so much, when he knows you're worth so much more than that.

He doesn't want to let you down. You and Carmen– he will never be enough for the two of you. 

"I don't– I'm fucking stupid, Birdie, don't listen to me." He swallows, but you're hanging onto his words and your face falls again. 

"But I can listen to you get all poetic about Claire, right?" You mutter, angry, and you get up to leave– but Michael grabs your forearm, and he's quite a bit stronger than you are. 

“Hey. That’s different.” Michael tries, but you shake your head, and you’re left sitting on the table again. “I was only teasing Bear. It has nothing to do with you.”

“I know.” You turn even more glum, and Michael is left feeling terrible, wondering what was so wrong with what he said. 

You’re silent for a moment– you know that you like Carmy, but something about telling Michael about it feels weird, like you’re pre-emptively rejecting him rather than Carmy by confessing feelings that are slowly disappearing– and you just don’t want to.

But you know you need to. You need to accept that Carmy would never see you that way.

“I just… for a really long time, I thought that I…” You fall to silence, again, and Michael is staring at you, hanging onto every word, watching your side profile shake as you try to gather your thoughts. “I really liked him, you know? I don’t even know why– maybe he was just the clearly available, safe option, and now that’s not even true and I feel like I’m mourning something that was never even real. How stupid and childish can I get?”

“Wait, Birdie–”

“And I just… I know I’m not like Claire. I don’t know what I got myself into. I don’t even really like him anymore– it’s just that the situation makes it so damn apparent that I am just average.” You huff out your words with an air of finality that even has Michael flinching a little, and he runs his hands through his hair, unbelieving of what you’ve said. “You can’t even say I’m not, Mikey, because I know how you talked about her and it was just so different to how anyone here has ever thought about me.”

“Birdie, shut the fuck up.” Michael breathes out really heavily, pinching his brows, thinking that he regrets everything he said and he wishes he could take it back. “I didn’t really– I was trying to tease Carmy, you know? It didn’t mean the shit you think it does. Hell, I would be way more serious if I was talking about you.”

He takes a beat of silence– should he read your reaction to that, or keep going? And he decides to keep going.

“You can’t just act like you can read everyone’s minds because you’re a lawyer, Birdie.” Michael says it with a slightly lighter tone, and his hand traces the small of your back as you lean against your knees, staring up at him. “Didn’t you learn about intent or whatever the fuck it was? In school?”

“Yeah, I guess.” You admit despite yourself, and Michael smiles but continues seriously.

“I don’t think that about Claire, okay? If anything, I’m fucking embarrassed you heard me talk all of that shit– that was just meant to be, uh, guy talk. I swear.” Michael swallows, feeling guilty that he still had to be so low about it. “I don’t– I care so much about him, I just went too far in working him up. I think it would be a good thing for him, right?”

Hurt flashes across your face– you still don’t think you like Carmy anymore, you just don’t know how to feel about someone else being portrayed as a “good thing.” But you inhale– you know part of getting over it is having to accept this, and you let yourself think and then nod.

“Yeah. Yeah, I could see that.” You agree, and it doesn’t hurt as much since Michael is looking at you sympathetically. “I just… I want to be a good thing, too. Not for Carmy, just…”

“For someone?” Michael answers as you trail off. 

“Yeah.”

“Listen, Birdie. I’m gonna tell you something you gotta hear.” Michael has that determined look where you know he’s going to say something smart– he has his fleeting moments of wisdom even if he doesn’t believe in himself– and he goes for it. “I can’t believe no one has ever told you just to, I don’t know, fucking love yourself a little? Like, c’mon, you should be able to like yourself! You’re an incredible person and you deserve– you have the right to be insanely fucking confident and it’s so fucking annoying that you don’t see it.”

In the heat of his argument, Michael’s come too close again, and he can feel your breath on somewhere near his jaw or neck, and he has to remind himself to pull away again.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, and Michael combs back a strand of your hair.

“Don’t be sorry. Just listen to what I’m saying.” Michael inhales, thinks over why he can’t do this himself– Tina always tells him to be a little easier on himself, but he just struggles– and he thinks that you look terribly cute so it’s just a lot easier to root for you. “Don’t do it for some idiot guy who will never really appreciate you, little Birdie.”

You can feel the conclusion of that sentence, even if Michael doesn’t quite say it: do it for yourself. Be there for yourself. Listen to the good part of yourself, rather than him.

“Oh. I guess that’s…” You swallow, taking it in, knowing the value of his words. “It’s true.”

“See? You know it.” Michael leans in a little too close again, his face a mere breadth away from your own.

“I think you’d actually make a fantastic lawyer.” You slyly comment amid wiping your face, and Michael blinks and then laughs.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Then you’d get to see me and hear my advice all the time.” Michael mumbles a little over his words but to his surprise, you nod. 

“Yeah, then I’d get to see some idiot who really does appreciate me.” You murmur even more quietly, and Michael, feeling stupid, has a wistful smile on his face that he maybe has not felt in a decade. It’s so sweet– he thinks his heart is bursting with something. 

Maybe love. Maybe that jovial, Christmas spirit that seems to emanate as the food smells closer to ready, maybe what Carmen gave him as a kind gift, most likely the closeness he feels with you– not just being close in familiarity, more like– he can make out the little spots and freckles adorning your face, every single eyelash your still watery eyes have, the faint lines in your still-red lips, and it occurs to him that he’s too close. Somewhere during this talk, his hand has stayed around your back, and you have been tentatively tracing his right hand’s knuckles with your own thumb. 

Michael knows how it looks. If anyone was to walk in right now (and he’s sure Michelle or Richie have already put it together that the two of you have been gone for a while) they would assume you two are a couple.

He has a sudden air of regret– it’s not because he wants to reject you, he just… he struggles a lot with feeling wanted. He struggles with the standards that people seem to put on him. Michael has always known he’s not a good guy– he doesn’t know how to be the person that everyone seems to think he is. Carmen, Natalie, Richie, you– you all seem to think the best of him, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. He nearly had a breakdown watching Carmen look up to him so lovingly.

Before he can pull away– with another responsible refusal, telling you that he’s too old and washed up, and that you deserve the whole world and he is not enough to offer that to you– you gently but firmly grab his face, tracing his cheek, and he thinks it could be wrong– what if you’re just feeling all confused and willy-nilly about feelings because you’re displacing what you felt about Carmen, what if you don’t actually like him and you’re assuming that you do because of his clear attraction to you, what if you’re just feeling the moment and the sweet guidance he’s given you?

Tons of questions seem to flow from his mind, things that he wants to ask you, but Michael thinks fuck it, because you’re leaning in first and pulling him in and it’s something he would’ve never expected in a million years, that you could be just as attracted to him.

He kisses you maybe a little too hard– maybe it should’ve been softer, more gentle since you’ve opened up to him so much, but you kiss him just as eagerly back, and he doesn’t fucking care to be gentle anymore. He’s leaning over you and Michael knows he’s quite a bit taller, so he has to pull you upwards to really reach your lips, and the table the two of you are sitting on is quite small– it shakes a little and there’s not much room for Michael to really feel you.

Until you climb into his lap, because of course you do, and now you’re just tangling your fingers in his hair, and he thinks he can feel whatever migraine that the day’s events have spurred on him slipping away, and his hands wrap around the smallest part of your waist as he pulls you in, pressing his chest against yours. 

You feel like Michael’s beard tickles a little– but you don’t mind that. You weren’t sure until you did it that you’ve wanted to kiss him for a while. You feel like maybe you’ve actually been more attracted to him than you ever were with Carmy, maybe even just going for Carmy due to his aforementioned security. 

Michael groans, and he slips his tongue into your mouth, and you sharply inhale as his tongue roams around your own, and he knows he likes hearing you gasp when his hands come up under your sweater, just to feel your bare skin, and you pull away.

Michael comes in too close again, placing a soft yet firm kiss on the corner of your mouth, and you laugh at him, and it’s one of the best sounds he could hear. No longer are you all gloomy and sullen in the corner of the room– but there’s still an air of heat around you two, and he knows he should let you go before things go too far. 

“Consider that a Christmas present.” You murmur softly, tapping his face, genuinely smiling despite the smeared lipstick, and you clamber off his lap, and peek out the pantry. “I think you’re good to go eat dinner– let me just…”

You wipe the red lipstick from his mouth using the corner of your sweater sleeve, so not to leave evidence, and it’s an intimate moment that has Michael staring at your hand, to your eyes, and there’s something in his eyes– maybe sorrow, maybe appreciation, but most of all, tenderness, and he takes a silly, soft moment to just kiss your hand. You beam at him.

“How long have you wanted to do that?” You tease him, because you know that Michael has always had that look, and he stiffens for a moment.

“Ah… maybe around when you came back from graduating college.” Michael admits, feeling weirdly high and low all at the same time, but he questions you too. “What about you? Don’t tell me you just decided to kiss me right now. That would fucking… that would be too much.”

His heart falls for a split second– thinking about how again you could’ve just been having a little fling– why would you ever like him? He struggles to think how you could, even after having kissed you.

“No, no. I swear it’s not like that.” You turn a little red and play with your hands. “Um. You’re not like a rebound, Mikey, I just… I think I liked you ever since I started coming around more, maybe around last year? I probably just didn’t notice because I thought I was into Carmy. You know? Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.”

“Yeah, I know.” Michael tries not to let the relief show through his face too much. “I thought maybe I was… reading too much into it. Putting pressure on you.”

“No, you’re good.” You shake off his concerns. “I don’t think that at all. I really do like you… might’ve just been obsessed with the idea of a childhood friend turning into a lover.”

Michael grins. “Well, who’s to say that didn’t fucking happen, Birdie? Are we not childhood friends?”

“Eh… kind of. You’re a bit old.” You give him a so-so motion, and Michael jokingly pushes you a little. “I’m kidding! This is more like– your friend’s hot older brother gives you a chance and it’s crazy and exciting and you just want to know more.”

You were half kidding, but you’re so honest about it, and Michael loves it, but there’s still that undercurrent of agony– he wants to just openly like you, too, but he doesn’t want to be such a fucking failure about it.

“I’m gonna just head to the dining table, I think.” You check your watch. “Gotta go think about this a little more– is that okay? Not in a bad way, I’m just overwhelmed with everything that’s happened today…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s okay, Birdie.” Michael presses a kiss into your hairline. He knows it is a lot for anyone to handle– getting over a crush you thought you had, realizing that you like someone else– he gets it. “Take all the time you need.”

“Okay.” You smile eagerly at him and then walk outside through the hallway, wiping your mouth so it looks less kiss-stained, and peek around so no one is looking at you. 

Michael feels a million emotions hit him at once, and he knows he has to cool himself down before explaining to everyone where you’ve gone, what’s happened– or he’s certain to implicate himself, and he can’t have that. 

/ 

It all goes to shit not even twenty minutes later.

You’re sitting pretty between Richie and Tiff, who seem to be a little bit… awkward, maybe arguing mentally about something you don’t completely understand. No one has really commented on your disappearance, but you’re sure it’s obvious based on how Michelle and Stevie are whispering and smiling at you.

Michael gets a massive, depressive episode right after you’ve left him. He can’t exactly pinpoint why– he feels like a creep even if he isn’t one. Hell, he only actually met you when you were nineteen– he was in a different state when you started visiting the Berzattos. But even if Michael ignores his potential, old-man creepiness… he also feels like you’re headed for so much more than he ever was, and he knows he’s holding you back if he does this. 

For once in his life, he just wanted to be happy. He just wanted to be wanted without the stigma of not being good enough. 

You, Carmy, and Nat. He knows you guys are on your way. Michael feels a pit in his stomach as he imagines why you guys all have to look up to him so much– he just happened to be in the right place, at the right time.

He can’t ignore the feeling that he is just a major fucking loser.

That’s why Michael goes and gets high. He knows he’s making a mistake, and he doesn’t want to do something so disappointing– but he figures he’s already a disappointment anyways. He’s grateful you’re not here outside to see how pathetic he really is– how much he craves a hit just to feel a little less shitty. And yes, it calms him down as he feels the high of the painkillers exacerbate positive memories, like with you, Carmy, Natalie– but it still makes his anger, his depressive tendencies strong, too. 

When he sits down at the dining table– he’s not that intoxicated, but he knows it’s a little apparent on his face, based on the mild alarm on your own. You’re sitting just far enough from him for there to be plausible deniability, but still– you are worried about him.

“You good?” You mouth, and he waves away your question with an air of fake nonchalance. 

You don’t look convinced. You can see the red in Michael’s eyes, the general tension in his shoulders, the unnerving sense of resentment in his expression. You wonder what could have happened in the last ten minutes that you’ve been sitting at the table, why Michael decided to go and get intoxicated just minutes after kissing you.

Were you too much for him? Maybe.

You know Michael gets high. In fact, last Easter, you’re pretty sure he spent the entire time high on something– but you only vaguely know about his anger flare ups. About his negative emotions, the supposed depressive periods he goes through. You’ve seen him argue a bit with Richie, you know he’s gotten a bit harsh with Carmy, but you know he’s a bit more troubled than that. The whole family seems a bit troubled. Natalie has told you that much, and you have your experience with that– your mother and father’s fights are ones that still make you quiver to think about. But with Michael?

You don’t know how much you believed it, until now, because Michael always seemed kind of… like he always had the right thing to say. You almost feel like he’s in the right to get upset, because he’s had a hard time, with his family, some of his luck surrounding his career– especially with how Lee continually riles him up.

The table is formal and nice for a bit. Michael and Tiff converse about something, Carmy asks if you’re okay and you mostly are. Michelle asks Mikey to say grace, and he sounds resentful, again, of Lee cutting him off so often. 

Cicero, being the responsible uncle that he is, tries to push off grace to Stevie, who promptly rejects it, and Michelle decides to ease the tension by asking what the hell the seven fishes are all about. Lee, of course, gleefully answers, about the dutch potatoes and the bible.

Michael glares at him and throws a fork. A real, honest-to-god, heavy piece of silverware. It clatters on the carpeted floor– you feel yourself flinch, and you watch Natalie and Pete’s expressions crumble into the realization that Michael is not okay, and everyone seems to look towards him in fear.

“You see what you did, right? You already did that. You already bitched about the dutch oven.” Michael retorts at him, not completely coherent, and you can feel the lights glazing over– the Christmas tree, the wreaths and baubles, everything seems to lose focus in comparison to the red-hot anger that Michael is bubbling over with.

Cicero and Carmy try to call him off, but Michael isn’t listening, and you can tell– he’s in a place to be upset. It’s like a slowly proceeding car crash– as much as you don’t want him to do it, you understand why he’s going to. You feel like there is a bit of a double standard in place here– Cicero seems to want him to respect his elders, and Michael is being kind of childish, but you can’t say you don’t understand why.

Michael asks for Fak’s fork, in direct opposition to Lee’s attempts to play the father in this house. Despite Fak’s insistent refusals, Michael successfully takes it. Everyone speaks with the intent to stop him, and he’s too focused on Lee to stop.

You know you hate Lee too. But such a severe reaction, coming from Michael? It has you wincing a little. You want to pull him away– tell him to be the nice older brother you’ve always known him to be– but you know it takes time. You know it’s probably going to get worse. You try to catch his eye– and he can't quite look at you.

You have faith in him. You know Michael can do better than this– you just hope he can see it, too. 

Michael throws the second fork, and you feel regret in trusting him, again, because he’s making things bad but it’s almost as if he can’t help it. You catch Natalie’s eyes– she’s clearly disappointed, too.

Michael feels a sick sense of pleasure, as he often does when it comes to acting out his worst desires. But he feels a flash of anger with himself– is that what he did with you? Is he really this guy? He thinks that he is, he is a bad dude and he can commit to that role if that’s what’s needed.  

“Cousin, you’re scaring the normals.” Richie tries, looking at Tiff and you, but you’re still yearning to catch his glance– and Michael can only respond that it’s nothing, everything is fine, and you’re suddenly reminded of when your parents used to fight and how you used to have to be the middle man and convince them that things were alright.

Michael looks towards you this time– but you’re not looking at him. You have your hands neatly clasped in your lap, your eyes are focused on the set of candles in the middle of the table, and you look horribly upset, with your neck all tense as you wait for things to blow over, and he can tell– he’s fucking up big time. Stevie, Carmy, everyone is looking pained, and Michael can only think that he doesn’t give a shit. He wants to make Lee feel just as terrible as he does.

"You see– I can throw forks because this is our father’s house." Michael scoffs back, and there's real agony in his tone. “My father’s house.”

Michelle inhales. “We have lift-off.”

“Okay, you got everyone's attention, so go ahead, tell us a story we've all heard a million times already.” Lee spits out, barely holding back his own contempt for Michael, and Michael starts laughing as if everything’s alright. “Tell a story about how you're living with your mom and you're borrowing money off of her and any other sucker who'll listen to your bullshit.”

Everyone looks towards the table, feeling terribly awkward about Lee’s accusations– it’s not that it’s necessarily untrue, but there’s a hefty amount of his own assumptions, his own bias thrown in there, and you want to speak up.

“Lee, shut the fuck up.” Cicero looks absolutely pissed off at him, and you’re grateful someone has taken some of the heat off of Michael. It’s Lee’s fault, too.

“I’m sorry. I told you not to be a sucker, Jimmy.” Lee comments, and Cicero exhales, exasperated.

“Lee. That’s not really fair– you’re being too hard on him.” You utter through gritted teeth, and Lee’s eyes narrow on you. It's the first time you've spoken, and Michael glances at you– his eyes are bright and he genuinely looks sorry. Sorry he had to go this far.

“Oh, am I? Really, Birdie? I would suggest I’m not being hard enough.” Lee raises his hands, invites you to speak more, and you know that it’s not really your place to do so, especially because Lee and Michael seem to have a lot of history.

But you have your almost-lawyer tendencies, and of course you’re not exactly unbiased either, because you want to see the best in Michael– you want to like him. 

"Please, Lee… Michael's working on himself. You don't need to lie to him." You stare at him, and Lee’s face seems to turn darker with that. “I’m sure we all have our issues… it feels like a lot.”

"Is that what he's told you, Birdie?" Lee sneers at you, and you suddenly feel small. "He's a sick, fucking twisted man, and you would trust him, wouldn't you?"

He doesn’t go further than that– but it’s enough that you feel humiliated for being read so thoroughly. It’s obvious what he’s implying– you’re a silly little girl who doesn’t know any better. 

“It's fine. It's fine. Because this guy's nothing and he's nobody.” Lee points at Michael again, and his expression sours so much. You watch as Michael seems to zero in on what Lee’s rambling on about. 

Natalie shakes her head in little no-no motions.

“Hey… Petey… I just need to, uh… I need to borrow this for one second.” Michael’s got that nonchalant expression again, but there’s pain in his eyes, and there’s a clamour of everyone again telling Michael to stop, calling his name, trying to distract him.

"Michael. Michael. Please don’t do this. Hey. Hey. Hey!" Natalie calls at him, and you know she's just begging for him to leave it alone. “I love you. Okay?” 

You watch as Michael, holding the fork, just holding it, clear malicious intent in his eyes, tension building in the air and you feel a little sick, but his eyes are watering and he clearly doesn’t want to do what he thinks he has to.

“I love you too, Sug.” Michael says honestly.

Stevie giggles, Cicero de-escalates things further, and you think you see the light at the end of the tunnel, if not for the fact that Michael is still holding the fork. Still standing up, taunting him, acting like a big old child as Carmy rebukes him– and it’s really just two grown men beginning to get all macho and toxic about who’s tougher, who’s really the man of the house, and they start screeching at each other and you watch as Michael’s eyes glaze over with something, with Lee’s final insult that “he’s nothing.”

You watch as Michael takes his seat. He seems ambivalent, hard to read– he’s not meeting anyone’s eyes and you feel terrible about it.

Donna comes in and takes her seat– she seems rather drunk, too, and the last thing you need is more evidence that substance abuse is a bad thing– and Stevie starts the most wonderful prayer that still isn’t enough to dissuade Michael. You catch his gaze– he’s mulling over something, his eyes are watery, and you want to go over there and talk him down, even if that idea is unwise.

Donna cries over the prayer, and Natalie commits the most cardinal sin that she could at this moment: she asks if she’s okay.

You flinch with recognition as Donna starts screaming at her, about how she is okay and could a person who isn’t okay make such a gorgeous meal, and she exits the room in visible anger, and Natalie begins to hyperventilate, while Michelle tries to calm everyone down.

Donna throws a plate down on the floor, and exits the room continuing to scream– and there’s a beat of tense silence, full of angst and what-nows, and Lee decides to take initiative breaking that silence with a silly joke– almost in a paternal role, again, a hot topic between him and Mikey– and you watch Michael’s eyes start narrowing as he leans against his hand.

Michael throws the third fork.

It’s like every single nerve you felt, every bit of tension that was already in place, comes to a head as Michael starts going batshit, trying his best to attack Lee, while the Fak brothers and Richie are between them, and you can barely think straight as everyone starts screaming at each other. 

Tiff almost gets dragged into the chaos, and you're left shielding and comforting her from the fight. Pete and Richie hold Michael off and you're thankful– the last thing you want is to go up in there and get caught in the crossfire yourself. It’s genuinely a blur– you have no idea how bad things are getting until Cicero starts telling them to get the fuck out.

Suddenly, the wall of the living room bursts inwards, the Christmas tree getting dragged in the crossfire, and you realize with shock that someone’s driven a car inside.

Not just any car– that’s Donna in there, driving, and you think for a moment she’s dead. You can’t believe what’s happening– you can feel your heart hammering through your chest.

Michael runs towards the car, tries to open the front door, yelling and asking her what she did, asking her to open the door. She stirs a little.

Everyone else is standing there, in shock, not focusing properly on what to do, and you pull yourself away from the crowd of people, as they stare on in horror. You don’t want to be a part of this, but you are, and you know what a responsible adult would do. 

You go outside, into the December night’s cold air, and call 911. Specify for the firefighters and ambulances, because Cicero has a big thing against narcs and cops and you’re not getting into that right now.

Even though you’re freezing, and that’s what you should be focusing on? You’re in an incredible amount of despair because of what’s taken place. You hang up the call and feel exhausted by everything that’s happened, and you wonder if Michael really knows better. If he can be more than this. It’s not something you’re judging him for– but you feel terrible about his circumstances and you want him to get out of there.

Worse, you can’t help but feel a little upset with him. Because you know that Michael didn’t have to stoop that low– he chose to, and that’s what bothers you the most. He let his emotional responses dictate how he was going to act, and you know it’s hard to not be so provoked in this environment, but still: you are concerned and upset with him, and you know you need to take a step back. As much as it hurts you to stay away, you feel like it’s going to hurt even more if you intentionally stay around.

You wait for the ambulance and fire trucks to show up– you take a minute to direct them through the house, and then you trust that someone else has got it from there. Carmy, Natalie, Michelle, Stevie– they’ve got each other, they’re whispering about something, and you know where you’re not needed.

You grab your coat and leave, leave as silently as you can without interrupting everything that’s going on. It’s an strange walk home– ten minutes of you thinking about everything.

You hope next Christmas will be better.

/

Michael comes down from his high hard. Someone’s wrapped a blanket around him, and he’s sitting on the front porch’s staircase, wondering what the hell is going on. Donna’s apparently been taken to the hospital– and there’s a makeshift tarp where the wall has been crashed in. Everyone has gone home.

Where did you go? He has a moment of panic. Are you okay? Did he fuck it up that badly? That you would leave without saying goodbye? Michael can picture the disappointment on your face, and he wishes– he really wishes he was someone else.

He’s stressing really hard, his eyes are beginning to tear up. God, he knew he wasn’t really worthy of your attention– you’re young still, you have the whole world ahead of you– and he wonders if he can apologize. He wonders what he could possibly say to make it right. After such an insane situation, he can’t even blame you for taking off.

Natalie tells him, kind sister that she is, that you were the one to call emergency services. Of course you were– you have a strong head on your shoulders and Michael feels strongly that his family is in debt to you. And then you headed home, but Natalie doesn’t know why.

He does have your number. But he’s not going to call you, not right now– he’s not going to make a bigger mistake and fuck things up further. 

Michael sighs, and leans back. He doesn’t deserve to be happy.

[hyperfixat]

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! here’s the first chapter to a new multi part series i’m working on! it’s an isekai of honkai star rail. (sahsrau, sort of…?) ANYWAY!! enjoy,,, updates will be. idk maybe once a month so i don’t get stressed about pumping out chapters… this baby has been baking for a few months in the drafts already LMAO. likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3 and my reqs are perpetually open! 4.1K words.

next >

** Written PRE 1.4 – Any mentions of new characters is pure speculation and or headcannons.

Your dailys are finished and there’s no new content, so you decide to look for some hidden quests throughout the map. You’re sure you’ve collected all the chests on the Herta Space Station, but you use a teleport waypoint there anyway. Caelus (although that is not what you have named them,) sprints under your control, running against the invisible wall separating available land from unavailable land.

You click aimlessly, your character summoning their weapon of choice, a bat in this case, and attacking the blank divider. They hit it a few times, the animation sparking as they attacked the blank. It’s not like you’re expecting something to happen, although a person can hope, but then something does happen.

The office around you, where you’re playing on your PC blurs. You attempt to clear your vision with a few harsh blinks, but your vision only gets worse. It’s golden tunnel vision to your computer screen, the Trailblazer isn’t there, oddly enough, but that doesn’t quite matter at the moment, as you feel the world around you warp. Your body and soul, something you weren't even aware of, are pulled, nay sucked, into your screen. The screen, something that should be impermeable, gives way like nothing, like air.

Something as large as the human body should not be able to fit through your screen, but you do. Somehow you do.

It’s warm and hot and cold and freeing as it is oppressive.

You’re disoriented and confused, and for some reason you know you’re no longer alone and in your office.

Tentatively you allow yourself to move and lift your head. Instead of being seated on your desk chair, you’ve fallen into a heap in… is this one of the rooms in the Supply Zone? That.. that cannot be right. That’s in a video game and this is real life.

…Right?

What are you thinking about?! Of course this is real life, just a dream, yes, a dream. What are they called, lucid dreams? That makes sense, you’re lucid dreaming, even if you’ve never had one before, you’re lucid dreaming.

Well if you’re lucid dreaming, maybe you can have some fun? What do you do?

Fuck, you aren’t prepared for this.

Before you can think of something good someone moseys into the modern-style storage room you're in. Oh, hey, it’s the main character of Honkai: Star Rail, the game you were playing before falling into this lucid state. You want to greet them; you should greet them.

Wait, do you call them Caelus or the name you put into the game? Ah, wait, can you pause this?

“Huh? What are you doing in here?” Their voice sounds… well just like it does in game.

You hesitate, unsure of how to answer because you don’t know what you’re doing here. They wait for a reply, head tilting cutely as you think of a comprehensible answer.

“I’m… not sure.” You draw out the sentence as if by prolonging the words a better answer would appear.

Caelus walks closer to you, moving from the doorway to stand only a foot away holding out their hand to help you up.

“Are you lost? What part of the base are you stationed at? I know this place really well, I can help you find where you belong.” The confidence in their voice wanes, “Well, by your clothes…” their brow creases “are you from here?”

“Uh, I don’t, I don't know.”

They purse their lips, head tilting as they think. “Well, I don’t know who I should bring you to. You’re not a threat, at least not yet. Herta would be my first guess, but I don’t like her, and she might not even care or respond.” Another moment as they ponder, “let’s go find Mr Yang. He might be able to help jog your memory, or find out where you’re supposed to be.”

“Okay.” The walk through the station feels like a fever dream, though this is a dream, so that makes sense.

Caelus pulls open the heavy metal door to the Astral Express and holds out a hand to help you climb up inside. They don’t let go of your hand as you enter the passenger cabin.

“Mr Yang?” They call out, fingers readjusting over your own. Their hand is cool and comforting, realistic for a dream.

Welt Yang, sitting on the red curving couch looks up, setting down his book. His eyebrows raise when he sees that Caelus is not alone and is towing along a strange person dressed in even stranger clothes.

“Yes, Caelus? What do you need?” His eyes flicker between your faces before settling on Caelus’.

“This person, ah what’s your name?” They flush a pretty pink and turn to you, fingers flexing nervously around yours. When you give it to them, they repeat it aloud to Welt. “Is lost. How do we help them?”

Welt Yang frowns, a crease denting his forehead and he adjusts his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose as he gives a low, thoughtful hum.

“What did Madam Herta say? You found them on her vessel.” Caleus rubs the back of their neck, a pink falling over his cheeks and tinting his ears.

“Well, I was hoping to avoid taking them to her…”

Welt doesn’t react, as if already knowing the answer. “Well,” his amber eyes meet yours. “What do you say to staying on the Astral Express for the time being? Of course, we’ll have to check with the conductor to make sure that’s okay.”

Caelus nods, their eyes narrowing as they think. “Do you think Ms Himeko might have an idea of how to jog their memory?” Their body shifts towards you as do their eyes, “in any case, we should find Pompom first, that’s the conductor.”

You want to say you know exactly who Pompom is, but that would sound odd from what should be a stranger, wouldn’t it?

Speak of the devil, Pompom comes waddling their body over to your gaggle. They aren’t as small as the game made them seem, maybe four feet of smooth fluff, and a content face.

“Hi Trailblazer, hi Welt, hi… Hi.” They pause and look up into your face, their features contorting, before they accuse you. “You aren’t a passenger!”

“Oh.” You don’t really know how to respond to that. Aside from acknowledging the obvious, they haven’t given you anything worthwhile to say. Before the silence can become too suffocating Caelus comes to the rescue, saving you from the critical look of the conductor.

“About that!” They give the creature a charming smile, putting their body between yours and theirs. “I was hoping my new friend could stay on the express until they can remember where their home is.”

So that’s why you’re staying, well staying til you wake, maybe wake. Fuck, you need a minute, well maybe once it settles in and you realize that you can’t escape, and don’t know how or why you’re here. Oh, you hope this is just a sleep deprived, very immersive deep sleep.

“Hmm,” Pompom shoves past Caelus’ legs to size you up. Their large, animal eyes make you melt, and you offer them a shy, nervous smile. “We’re out of rooms, but,” they turn back to Caelus, “if you or another passenger are willing to share, Pompom guesses they can stay.”

“Thank you, Pompom,” your smile widens a bit more. “But, maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to say that. I don’t know if anyone would want to share a room with me.” A breathy, panicky laugh leaves you, “I am a stranger here, after all.”

Pompom gives you one last, long look before shuffling away back to their rounds of the train.

“Hm, well, I understand where you’re coming from. But,” Caelus frowns and their eyes darken, going downcast, nervously. “I feel oddly connected to you. There’s more than one reason I didn’t take you to Madam Herta. I was hoping you might be able to stay on the Express, at least for a bit. So I could get to know you, a bit.” As your expression remains impassive, they’re quick to continue, taking hold of both of your hands. Their hands are large and warm, engulfing yours earnestly. “Please don’t get the wrong idea. I am trying to help you, however I can. Which is why I want to extend an invitation for you to stay with me, in my room.”

“Thank you, Caelus.” Warmth fills both your heart and face, both from the words and their touch alike. “I know you’re trying to help me, I truly appreciate it.”

They’re being so genuine, it makes you want to cry. How can you tell them this is all a dream, your dream at that. They aren’t even real, for crying out loud! The way they treat you makes you never want to wake up, stay so they can care for you, spend time with you. Would it be selfish to want to stay, to never leave, what would happen to your life if you never woke up, never left this dream (game, whatever it is now)?

You have the sudden urge to harm yourself, just for the sake of proving if this reality is just a dream or if some spatial temporal nonsense happened for you to get sucked into your PC’s game, turned real world.

The time you spend worrying cuts short when March 7th’s cheerful voice calls into the express. You hadn’t even noticed the metal screaming of the door as it was pried open.

“Caelus~ Help me convince Dan Heng to let us go back to the Xianzhou Luofu for some Berrypheasant Skewers and Immortal’s Delight- oh!” She’s spotted you. Her face lights up, an odd reaction, you think, upon seeing a stranger in what is essentially her home. “Hi there!”

“Hi,” you greet meekly, not used to being around someone so high energy. Not that you don’t like it, on the contrary she’s a very gregarious person, and the energy she brings makes you feel content.

“Caelus didn’t tell me they brought a guest!” March giggles. “It’s nice to see you, have we met before? I’d hate to think I’d forgotten your face.”

“No, you haven’t met me before.” It’s not a lie, you craft your words carefully. You know her though, very well, at that.

“Oh, well you can call me March 7th! What’s your name?” She fully enters the compartment now, the heavy train door slamming loudly behind her. She’s really pretty and cute in person, you wish that your mind could come up with any better words to describe her, but your mouth feels more than a little dry as she gets closer to you. You tell her, words sounding like mush, but she smiles and repeats it back to you, giving it a compliment.

She makes your heart stutter, and you smile at her, a little dumbly. Luckily Caelus seems sympathetic to your plight (going dumb at the sight of a pretty girl) and takes over explaining why you’re here.

“Memory loss, huh?” March pulls a sympathetic face. “I can relate. Well, you seem like a lovely person, and a friend of Caelus is a friend of mine, so my door is always open if you need to talk.”

Your deceit feels harsh, because you don’t have memory loss. Now March might try to bond over this perceived shared trauma, one that you don’t have…

March pats your shoulder in an attempt to soothe, a rush of her scent (solidifying this is more than a dream) fills your nose, fresh, clean, and sweet.

“Thank you, March, I appreciate it.”

“Anything for a friend!” March turns to Caelus, who lets your hands go as March engages them in a conversation. “Now, Caelus, help me convince Dan Heng to vote for Xianzhou Luofu on this week’s stop! I really want some of the local food.” She exaggerates the ‘really’ dramatically, making her eyes wider; the epitome of puppy dog style begging.

“Ah,” Caelus turns their head away, squeezing their eyes shut. “I already was planning on voting for Jarilo VI, and I’m pretty sure Dan Heng is dead set on his vote for another week at the space station.”

March sighs in disappointment, eyeing Welt as her next target before, “Wait! You’re officially a passenger now!” She is talking to you, “won’t you please vote for the Xianzhou Luofu as this week’s destination?”

The Xianzhou Luofu, you think about it. They don’t know that you know the place like the back of your hand, but it’s not like you have anything against the place. In fact, you’d rather not face the harsh cold of Jarilo VI so new to this world.

Oh, you shouldn’t have thought about that right now, the fact you’re stuck here for who knows how long, and you’re passively deceiving everyone you meet. Your knees feel a bit weak, but you manage to force an agreeable response to March.

“I’m feeling a bit tired, Caelus,” you grab their forearm to steady, “could I have a moment to lay down?”

“Oh shit,” they steady you, leading you to the couch, and helping you lay diagonally. Your eyes slip closed. Not caring about what you make yourself look like, you turn your face into the back cushion, tightening the harshness of how tight your eyes are closed.

Are you really stuck here? Is this more than a dream? Without fully realizing it, you drag your blunt nails over the length of your forearm. A soft, trembling gasp disguises the hiss of pain you make. Not a dream.

Fuck, not a dream.

You push your face deeper into the cushion, inhaling the scent of dust and fabric. The sensory input makes you even more certain this isn’t a dream. How do you go back to your world? Are you a missing person yet? What harm will come if you stay here, both to this world and your world? Do you tell them the truth?

How earth-shattering would it be to find out that your whole life is nothing but code? You are but a character built to entertain millions, any sense of individuality and personhood would surely fade. You can’t do that to them, can you?

But maybe it would help you get back to where you belong…

It hits you then, Welt Yang. Well, he doesn’t hit you. He’s still reading his book on the couch opposite to you. You’re no lore expert on any Honkai game except Star Rail, but he’s from like, another world as well, or something like that, right? Sure that world is another video game, probably, but alternate dimensions are alternate dimensions, right?

How would that conversation start? Hey Mr Yang, you’re a video game character and I’m from a different world, teehee can you help me figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do now? Would he even believe you? Would you even believe you?

A warm hand rubs over your upper back, along your shoulder blades and vertebrae. Caelus, your heart stutters, a funny thing, at how you already know how much you’ll miss them.

“Do you want to use one of my Life Transmitters or a Healing Spray?” They offer their voice, kind and calm. “Or would something like Comfort Food be more to your taste right now?”

You move your face out of the cushion, “thank you, Caelus, you’re too kind. I’ll be okay, just… thinking.” Thinking of how this shouldn’t be real, how you’re too good to be real.

“Of course, let me know if you need anything. Anything at all, no matter how small.”

Caelus eventually left with March to pester Dan Heng, leaving you to revel in your confusing thoughts. After a few more minutes of lying on the couch, you steel yourself to face Welt Yang.

Thinking of his face is enough to make your hands clam up. Will he send you away and dismiss it as insane ramblings of nervous breakdown from one of Miss Herta’s overworked employees? He’ll believe you, won’t he? Surely a man of his caliber and experience can spot when someone is telling the truth, no matter how fantastical?

Pushing yourself up, you fight the tired and nerves that cling to you, and stand on unsteady legs. Welt looks up as you approach, folding the ear of the page he’s on and snapping the book shut.

“Uhm, Mr Yang, could we maybe talk in private?” Your voice sounds warbled, but if it’s more than a trick of your ears Mr Yang doesn’t let you know, instead offering you a reassuring smile and nodding.

“I will lead you to my room. No one will disrupt us there.” You’re glad he hasn’t questioned your intentions. Does he suspect you already and was unwilling to call you out openly?

Welt leads you down the sleeping cart aisle, maintaining a respectful distance from you the whole while.

He uses the handle of his cane to tap on his door handle, a jolt of pink-red magic and a click of the door’s locking mechanism and you are presented with your chance to talk to Welt Yang privately.

Welt’s eyes meet yours expectantly. You gulp.

“So. On a scale of one to one hundred how well would you react to me telling you this is a video game?” Yeah, and if this goes poorly you can pretend this was all a joke–!

Welt's previously curious harden into something more serious. “What?”

Ah fuck, nope, nevermind. “Hahaha.” It’s fake and painfully obvious to you both. “Sorry to bother you Mr Yang, I will see myself out.”

“No.” Welt positions himself between you and the exit. “Tell me.”

It’s hard not to spill the beans when those dark amber eyes bore into your very soul. And, you do.

You tell him how you got sucked through your PC and woke up in what should be simply pixels on your monitor. You tell him how you don’t know what to do and how he’s one of the only characters, well, you correct yourself, people, you thought might know how to help you.

Welt’s face is stoic and you purse your lips as your nerve filled ramble comes to an end. “How… odd.”

You’re sure it must be. Especially for him, learning he’s a game franchise’s tool, everything he’s done was all written out and predetermined by forces he has no hope to control.

Welt sits on the edge of his bed, cane used to steady himself. “I need a moment, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m the interloper here.” You kneel in front of him, trying to comfort the man in any way you can. After a brief hesitation you cover his hand with your own. Perhaps physical contact will bring some sense of consolation.

His brows are furrowed, but your touch lesses it minutely.

“Do you… want to go back?”

It’s a fair question, but you aren’t sure of the answer yourself. Because on one hand, being in this fantasy world with characters you like that treat you nicely is quite literally a dream come true, but on the other hand you have a life. Not anything important, you’re just a person. A person with friends and family and a job that all needs you.

You cannot be sure of how much time will pass before you can leave this world, universe, whatever. Is this even your real body? Is there an empty vessel sitting in your desk chair that will wither and decay while you explore the wide world of Honkai Star Rail? You are led to believe this is your real body due to the sensations that an artificial vessel wouldn’t feel.

But.

There are your favorite characters and they’re so so nice. So far.

Your inner turmoil must be showing on your face because Welt squeezes your hand, running his thumb over the back of your palm.

“I suppose a better question might be: are you comfortable staying in this world for a prolonged period of time?”

This time the answer comes easier, “yes.”

“That certainly makes things easier,” Welt relents.

“Do we tell anyone?” The question brings on another bout of quiet. You wet your lips, nerves still simmering from the confession you made.

“I think it would be best to keep it among the, how shall I phrase it, main characters?” Welt winces. “Who would they be? Me, if you know enough to confide in me, and who else?”

“Well, I don’t think you, the Express, like all the main characters, but,” you sigh, beginning to count off who you can think of. “Caelus, March, Dan Heng, you, Himeko, Sampo, Gepard, Serval, Bronya, Seele, Natasha, Luka, Blade, Kafka, Silver Wolf, Herta; maybe, Asta, Arlan, Jing Yuan, Yanqing, Jinglui, Loucha… There might be more, but they seem to be the most lore relevant and repetitive so far.”

“Yes, I imagine some conflict might crop up with that roster…” Welt thinks. The way his brow furrows and his legs spread (manspreading… drool) is subtly attractive.

Ah, the Stellaron Hunters. You can and will admit you want to see Blade and Kafka badly, but if it could result in… tension, would it be worth it in the long run? Just to satiate your thirst? They’re so imposing in the best way possible.

“Hm. Do you want to tell them?” Welt interrupts your little Kafka slash Blade slash you fantasy.

After a moment of mentally debating, you decide that, “yes, I do. All of them.”

“Very well.” Welt gives a reassuring smile, “I will support you in any path you may choose to take.” And if that didn’t make butterflies flutter all the way from the pit of your tummy up to your throat.

“If they were to ask; how am I going to prove myself? Is there something that can show I’m not from this world?” Sudden anxiety seizes you, will your favorite characters mock you? You’d die.

“There’s nothing to say they won’t believe you. You’ve convinced me after all.” It helps you stay calm, and you nod seriously. There’s another gap where neither of you speak.

“Who will we see first, do you know?”

“How about the whole Express has a meeting and we can decide from there, sound good?” Ah, that smile. A shot to the heart it is.

“Yes, thank you, Mr Yang.” Your face is hot when you say it, suddenly desperate to leave the room and cool yourself.

Oblivious to your sudden burst of attraction, Welt continues on. “Of course, always feel free to stop by my room. I’d like to extend an invitation as the others have, if you want to rest in my room, you’re welcome to.”

Rounding up the entire Astral Express doesn’t take as long as you expected it to. Himeko was in her room; and March, Caelus, and Dan Heng weren’t far from the loading deck; and Pompom is always on the Express.

“So.” You start, folding your hands together and looking at everyone around the table. They’re all watching you, and it’s really sort of scary, but you need to be brave. “I’m not from… here.”

Honestly they take the news well. Sure there were some questions, some you knew the answer to, others you are unsure of yourself.

“Is that why,” Caelus cuts themself off. “I feel drawn to you.”

“Drawn to me?” Your head tilts curiously, “could you expand on that?”

“I feel it too,” Dan Heng murmurs, eyeing Caelus. At this you lean back, furrowing your brows in thought.

“Oh?” March leans into Dan Heng’s seat. “I think I know what they’re talking about.”

“Something, emotionally, maybe, makes me want to be close with you,” Himeko speaks to you directly for the first time. “It’s like a tugging in my chest telling me to care about you.”

Ignoring the blatant rush of heat to your cheeks, Caelus expands on Himeko’s words. “Exactly. I can’t explain how or why, but I feel that you’re important, at least to me.”

Fuck, they’re going to make leaving so hard, won’t they? They can’t just say things like that.

“Oh.” Processing those words is hard.

Noting the way you’ve halted and your body language, March hovers a hand over your forearm, debating whether to touch you.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” She asks, already sounding let down.

“No! No, not at all. It’s just.” You laugh, not out of humor or joy, but something nervous. “If you guys say things like that I’m not going to want to leave.”

“What if we don’t want you to leave?”

“I think that’s a conversation for another day, Caelus.” Welt steers the conversation back on track; what you really came to ask: “Where are we stopping first?”

next >

[norizz-nation]

If you take requests, could you do this? Frat cocky Lando at a Christmas party, wearing something that shows off his muscles, and he keeps flirting with y/n, who hates him. Throughout the night, he slowly wins her over with constant flirting and dirty talk, and once he has her in the palm of his hand, he makes her compliment him and then worship his muscles and then get on her knees and worship his c*ck through his boxer briefs and then finally he f*cks her face and he's dirty talking and boasting all the way through :)

Girl, your idea is too hot! 😩🤌🏼

Denying the temptation 🧡

Summary: everyone at the christmas party knew that you hate lando but what they didn’t know is that although you hate him, you’re so cock drunk for him at the end of the party

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, degradation, slut shaming, face fucking, cock drunk reader, hair pulling

“You could’ve told me that he’s gonna be here too!” You stated coldly to your friend as you pointed your finger at lando’s direction who was talking to some random guy. Your friend furrowed her brows and looked at the direction you’re pointing at. “Why does that matter?” Your friend asked as she started to chuckle. “Of course it does matter because you know that i hate him!” you said as you rolled your eyes and took a sip of your drink. “Y/n, love relax. Plus why do you hate him so much?” She asked curiously as she looked at you in the eye for your response.

You don’t know why but her question made you more frustrated. All you wanted to do was just leave this shitty party. You just can’t ruin your Christmas like that.

“Because he’s a fucking narcissists. He’s so obsessed with himself as if he’s the most breathtaking person on planet earth. It’s so fucking annoying” you said as your face started to turn red as the frustration rushed to your face. “But do you not know?” Your friend asked as you looked at her. “Know what?” You asked curiously. Your friend laughed softly and shrugged. “He likes you, y/n” she said, whispering those words to you.

You scrunched your nose and slapped her arm lightly and that made your friend laugh louder. “For fucks sake, he’s definitely faking it for some attention” you said as you rolled your eyes again and finished your drink. “No he’s literally telling everyone here that he likes you, I swear” your friend said. “And everyone here knows that i hate him” you said as you started to get really mad. You placed your cup down and brushed your hair from your face as you took a long breath closing your eyes. “I can’t even stand him. I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow. Merry Christmas” you said all those so fast that you’re not even sure if she heard you clearly or not. But that didn’t matter to you at this point because all you wanna do is just leave her house party.

Your friend was about to tell you to stop but you just ignored her and rushed to the main door. You got snapped back to reality when you bumped into someone, since you were looking down while rushing to the door. The person you bumped into was holding a cup filled with drink that spilled over both of you. Well mostly you. “Fuck sorry” you said as you looked up to see who is it. “Oh no no, I’m sorry” the guy said sounding very polite.

Seriously? Out of so many people at the party. It was Lando who you bumped into. Lando.

“The fuck” you murmured as you took a few steps back and tried to clean yourself with your hands but it was a bad try. Your whole dress is now ruined, only because of him. Lando took a few steps closer, breaking the distance between you two. “I can help, if you want” he said as he smirked at you.

Another reason why you hate lando. He’s so confident about himself. He thinks that he can make anyone a fan of him.

You shook your head and said nothing. You didn’t even look at him. “I can help clean you up” he said, mostly in a taunting tone. “No! Im fine” you said as you looked around for a napkin but couldn’t find it anywhere. You then let out a sigh and rushed to the bathroom. “Wait, I’ll come with you” Lando said and you walked faster so then you can go inside and lock the door before he even gets there. But he was fast.

Guess it just wasn’t your night. Nothing was going according to your plan.

You looked at the water run in the sink as Lando got a napkin and got it soaked in water. You sat quietly on the counter top looking at how he’s doing his work. You grabbed his wrist when you saw him trying to clean you up. “I think i can do this by myself” you said, sounding annoyed as Lando chuckled at your words. “But i can do it better” he said as he got closer and his face was just a few inches away from yours. His eyes were burning. You couldn’t take this temptation.

You don’t know why you felt this friction. You hate him. You can’t let him influence you.

The first wipe on the lower part of your collarbone made you breathe heavily. Your reaction made lando smirk proudly. “Dont be so proud about your work. The water is just cold” you said as you rolled your eyes and lando laughed softly and nodded his head.

His another wipe around your tits made you gulp and breathe sharply. The way his eyes were scanning every part of your body made your cheeks red. But you were denying it.

“Why are you wearing such a breathtaking outfit?” He asked as his eyes pierced on your skin. “Its not ‘breathtaking’ my friend made me wear this shit” you said. You’re wearing the iconic mean girls Christmas outfit but the little difference is that, your tits were showing a little bit more. Well, a lot more.

“Plus why are you wearing this?” You asked him as you pointed at his shirt that was barely there. Because you could see every tone of his muscles. His skin looking so smooth and perfect. It was attractive. “Aren’t you cold?” You asked him. “I’m always hot, if you know” he said in a cocky tone and you regretted asking him this question. His eyes traveled down your tits again as he began cleaning you up.

“Will you stop staring at my tits?” You asked, sounding annoyed as Lando snapped himself back to reality. “Will you stop showing your tits all the time?” He asked, taunting you as he smirked. “Shut up” you said as you furrowed your brows. “Dont know how. Make me?” he asked as he got closer to you. Your lips being inches away from his. You were about to give yourself to him but stopped and pressed your hand on his mouth. “Stop” you said.

Lando looked at you and bit the tip of your black glove you were wearing, since it was the part of the outfit. He looked at you in the eye and took your glove off with his teeth. “Oh never” he said, smirking at you as he took your glove and put it in his pocket.

You dont know why his words were making you feel things. But yet you’re still denying it. Denying the temptation.

The rest of the party you were wearing only one glove and your right hand was bare. The rest of the party? You stayed at party? Yes. Yes, you did. Lando made you stay. As the hours passed you felt a friction between you two again. Maybe he isn’t that bad. At least you can give him a try. Because why not?

“Lando, give me my glove back. I’m cold” you said, turning your head to his side. He was sitting beside you on the couch. He scoffed at you and grinned. He then came close to your ear so then he can whisper in your ear. “You’re literally dressed like a slutty little girl, showing off your tits and legs and youre cold because i took your glove? Thats cute” he said as he let out a breath in your ear that caused you goosebumps and smirked at you. His words made your head spin. He was making you want him. Can’t blame him, he’s just too hot. What were you thinking before? He’s so god damn hot.

Two hours passed away, most of your friends left the party. But youre still here. You dont wanna leave because the way his abs looked so perfect from your point of view making you practically drool for him. Lust was running through your whole body. The way Lando looked down at you made your heart stop. The gaze you two held was so powerful. His eyes were burning you. Burning you so deeply.

You ran your hands over his abs and bit on your lower lip. His abs were so toned. It sent shivers down your spine. “You’re so hot” you said, sounding lustful as you looked up at him with heart eyes. Lando raised his brows and smiled softly. “Didn’t you hate me?” He asked you tauntingly. “Oh im so stupid, you’re so.. so fucking hot” you said as you could feel your mouth water for him. “I want you” you whispered as you pulled his Calvin Klein boxer down with your teeth as you kept eye contact with him.

Lando let out a groan when he saw the sight in front of him. A few ‘oh fuck’ slipping from his mouth. You opened your mouth and stick your tongue out to lick him. All you wanna do is lick the tip of his dick and make him go crazy for you but your little plan didn’t go accordingly. You flinched when you felt Lando grab you by your jaw and make you look up at him. The smirk on his face was enough for you to tell that he was just pushing your buttons.

You let out a whine and ran your hands up and down his thighs. "Lando please.." you pleaded softly. Sounding desperate for him. The way his eyes lit up meant that he was liking the way you pleaded. "Please Lando please, I want you" you said, whining like a baby. "Funny how the girl who hates me is begging on her knees to fill her little mouth with my dick" he said as he laughed at you, making your cheeks go red. He then came closer to you and looked at you in the eye as he whispered, "Do you wanna get your pretty little mouth fucked by my dick?" he asked, smirking at you as he nodded lightly. You nodded your head rhythmically with him.

You couldn’t hear anything in the bathroom. All you could hear was gags coming out of your mouth and little groans coming out of lando's mouth. Lando tugged on your hair firmly as he pushed himsef inside of your mouth more. Your nose touched his pelvis as your mouth took his whole length inside.

A drool dripped down to your tits as you kept on gagging around his dick. Tears rolled down your cheeks. Yet, you wanted more. You looked up at him and let out a murmured 'more' to him. Lando then scoffed and pulled you by your hair, freeing you from his dick. Which you hated.

"You're so fucking cock drunk right now. Do you know that?" he asked, sounding cocky. You smiled and bit on your lower lip. "Please lando i want more. I want you" you pleaded in a whining tone as you looked at him with innocent eyes. So innocent as if you did not just let him face fuck you.

At this point your tits was covered totally with your spits and drools. Your make-up was ruined as your mascara rolled down your eyes. Leaving black stains on your blushy pink cheeks.

Lando was right. You are cock drunk for him.

Your nails dugged on his thighs as lando pushed your head further. The way his dick twitched signaled you that he's going to cum. "Your pretty little mouth did so well, you deserve my cum in your mouth" he said as he let out a groan that sent butterflies to your stomach. Your eyes rolled to the back when he came inside your mouth. His warm cum filled your mouth so well that it was making you cum untouched. His cum tasted so good. So fucking good.

You then pulled your head away and looked up at him. His cum overflowing in your mouth as it dripped down your chin. Lando then quickly grabbed it with his thumb and pushed it inside your mouth. "Oh, can't let it go to waste huh?" he asked teasingly as you squirmed at his words. You swallowed his cum clean and smiled dreamily at him. "Fuck, you're so fucking hot. You’re cum tastes so good.. so tasty mm" you said, practically babbling as you were so stunned by his dick. He then caressed your apple cheek, wiping your tears.

He was smirking at you proudly. As if he just made a masterpiece artwork. Tears, sniffling a little, bit of cum on your chin, mascara ruined, red lipstick all over your chin and cheeks, face so fucked out, spits and drools all over your cheeks and chin, smiling so dreamily.

Fuck, this drove him crazy.

"You're definitely getting your name in the naughty list this year" he said, chuckling softly as you giggled at his words.

A/N: requests are open! feel free to ask what you want me to write! luv you ❤️

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

I have another brainrot cooking, so in the meantime, have this:

Alrighty, so the new archon who's name I can't remember, right?

From what I've seen of them, they're pretty cocky and prideful.

I can imagine when The Creator visits their nation, they just flirt with The Creator every chance they get

And the other archons (except for Venti because he does it too even though it's to a smaller scale) are just HORRIFIED awaiting The Creator's reaction.

Now The Creator does not give a shit and just fucking FLIRTS BACK

And all of the archons (except for her because she's smug asf) are just:

OMG FURINA & CREATOR RIZZING FR LOL I LOVE THIS. If only I had good flirting skills, man—I'll have to lightly go over that part 😔 SOBBING. MY SKILL ISSUES—

@royalrose2011 THIS IS SO GOOD THOUGH—

Furina Flirting w/ Creator: Archon Reactions?

Furina be slaying out here fr—and you're living it! When did she become—

The other Archons are being caught off guard.

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Venti

Man is flabbergasted. I mean, he knows he does the same thing and all that—flirting with you and stuff—but to see Furina just flirt in every single moment she gets, every single moment you're in HER nation—holy cow!

He's both amazed and shocked! He should write a poem about this! This was a thing to remember for the ages!

And perhaps he should show this to Zhongli and Ei to watch them wither. And he should present it to you! You love his poetry, and you certainly tolerate his little flirting too!

"Ehe, this bard has found the inspiration for a new ballad! I'll be right back, everyone! Good luck, blockhead Zhongli!" Cheery boi goes on his merry way to write the best poem the Creator has ever seen.

Safe to say it was worth the wait. You absolutely loved it.

Zhongli

He got a heart attack, seeing Focalors flirting with you so shamelessly. This was blasphemous! Even Venti, that absolute airhead, wouldn't go this extreme!

Children these days, and their lack of mannerisms. Zhongli can only sigh, sip his tea, and try his best to not throw a rock at the Hydro Archon. At least she's keeping you in good spirits and amused.

"Lady Furina, please don't get into Their Grace's personal space too much. Allow them so breathing space, please." If he thinks Furina is trying to get a little too close to you, Zhongli will plant his foot down. He has meteors to send as warning if Furina would not bid to these warnings.

Raiden Ei

Aside from the Puppet Shogun's general dislike to how close Furina was (Ei can't blame the Puppet Shogun), Ei feels real uncomfortable watching Furina getting all confident around you.

She's not uncomfortable of the flirting—after all, she too also deals with Venti's dealings, but Furina was a whole new level she has yet to fully understand.

"Furina. Watch yourself." Bodyguard Ei—that's her new job now. She's trying to give you that personal space you need that Furina is trying to take. "I will not hesitate to strike twice." If there's anything sketchy going on that Furina does, Ei is stepping in with her Musou no Hitotachi, no excuses.

She really does know how you tolerate this.

Nahida

She's in between giggling at Furina's antics and entirely shocked with how well you're taking it.

She thought you would've...how should she describe it...dislike how confident and smug Furina was doing. Then again, you were also tolerating all of Venti's antics too...

Nahida isn't really sure what to do, to be honest. While she loves Furina for keeping The Almighty Creator amused, she doesn't know how she feels about the constant flirting. In a sense, you were spending more time in Fontaine than anywhere else now!

"Your Grace, can you come hang out with me for a little while?" Nahida asks you with this cute little pout. "I would like to spend more time with you too in my nation!" And boy, are you now conflicted. Furina being a slay queen, or Nahida being cute child—who would you want to spend more time with?

Furina

While she appears confident and smug, she is most, upon all else, stoked and ecstatic of the fact you love her antics! Now, was that a new perspective she has yet to see!

With her keeping you around her awesome, extravagant nation, she can show all of Teyvat how her nation was the best nation of all time! And the popularity of Fontaine itself was increasing—more mora for her economy!~

Of course, she had it all planned out from the start! Who could make such a masterpiece and grand operation other than the Hydro Archon herself?

"Your Ever-Elegant Almighty Grace!~ Please, Allow I, Focalors, the Hydro Archon of Fontaine and God of Justice, send us off with these fine cakes. You are, however, by far, sweeter than any divine dessert!~" You snicker, liking the way this is going. Furina is even more cocky and smug when the other Archons try to intervene and take your attention away from her.

She has truly become the god that outshined all of Celestia. Hoho, the way their faces looked! She's absolutely stoked!

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: It feels great to be motivated! I hope you like this post :D I find this one real amusing LOL—Furina would really do this. If Furina would flirted with me, I honestly wouldn't know how I would feel LOL. I still love Furina though—high hopes that when Furina is out, Furina Wanters will be Furina Havers!~

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[raya-hunter01]

WIP Wednesday (Even thought it's Saturday)

Thank you empressdede and @whatdoeseverybodywant for the tag. This has been sitting in my drafts since December. Enjoy!!

The Christmas Present

Jey's Annual Christmas Party

“There is nothing wrong with Sefa, take that back. Your being plan mean now,” I said offended as Tori one of the new divas was talking about him as he stood across the room totally unaware, or maybe he was, and he just didn’t give a shit what people thought of him.

He always moved in silence…Guarded and the halls always cleared when they saw him coming.

“Get real Eden, it has to be something wrong with him. He just stands there like a knot on a log and doesn’t say anything. I wonder does he show emotions when he has sex or is he like a robot,” she said as Trin interrupted her public undressing of the tribal heir.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with my brother-in-law, he just ain’t with the drama that ya’ll asses bring. Plus, he likes his women real, not surgically enhanced,” Trin said as I smiled at the offended look and Tori’s face before she stormed off.

“Damn tell her how you feel, Trin,” I laughed as she smiled.

“Girl, she mad because he won’t give her the time of day and he likes you,” Trin said winking at me as I shook my head at her before stealing a glance at the baby brother of the Fatu family.

I have to admit, I liked him too, but he was dangerous. They say the most dangerous man in the room is one that doesn’t know the power he has over others, and I don’t think he knows the power he truly has.

I was drawn to him, there was a sadness to him that just made me want to hold him.  

The chaos of the Christmas party long forgotten as I saw him talk to his brothers for a few minutes before going upstairs.

“When are you going to tell him, you like him?’ Trin asked as I sipped on my champagne. “I’m not ready to date yet, Trin,” I said as she scoffed.

“Bullshit It’s been over a year, you need to have some fun,” she said as her thoughts echoed in my mind.

My last relationship had me leery on letting someone into my life again. It’s not every day your boyfriend cheats on you with your cousin. I’m not scared to admit that it fucked me up, but I am slowly working through it.

“I’m going to tell him Merry Christmas, then order me an uber,” I said as she smirked at me.  “An uber? Girl, go upstairs and lay up under that man, stop playin’,” Trin said as I sighed.

“Uh, we are rarely home and I’m going to sleep in my own bed tonight, thank you very much. Plus, I’m sure Jey don’t want folks having sex in his house,” I said giving her a hug as she laughed.

“Aye, where my hug at?” Jey asked engulfing us both in his strong arms. “I really enjoyed the party boo, but I’m about to head out,” I said as he kissed my cheek.

“Head up and see lil bro before you leave. He’s in the spare bedroom, you know where it’s at,” he said as I gave him another hug before going upstairs. The music becoming fainter as I went to the other side of the house.

How do you tell someone you want them to rearrange your insides respectively without sounding desperate. Gently knocking on the door I leaned up against the frame, my hair flowing wild and free as I anxiously waited.

“Who is it?” He asked opening the door as I smiled trying to hide my nervousness. The shocked look on his face told me all I needed to know I made the right decision to come up to see him.

“Are you alone?” I asked as he nervously gulped but couldn’t resist being a smart ass. “Oh, I got a whole party going on in here, you don’t see all these people” he said smartly as I rolled my eyes “Always the smart ass,” I whispered as he cracked a smile.

 “It’s always just me, you know that,” he said as I built up my nerve.

 “Well, how would you like to have a real party for two?” I asked shyly as he opened the door wider allowing me inside as I put my coat on the dresser.

“I was just listening’ to some music on the tv to unwind,” he said clearing his throat going over to turn it off. “No, leave it on,” I whispered sitting down in the chair beside the bed as he turned it down a little and sat down on the bed.

“What happened you been avoiding me all night?” I asked truly wanting to know what was wrong. “I got some shit on my mind, I had to take the kids back to their mom and they didn’t want me to leave,” he said as I sympathized with him.

“I know it gets hard but it’s going to get better, I know it is. They know you love them and just keep making sure they know that.” Reaching over I rubbed his knee in support as he stoic expression never changed but he nodded.

“I just hate I won’t get to spend Christmas with them tomorrow, but I guess I should be thankful they got to open a few of their gifts from me tonight.”

 “Maybe you should call her and see could you stop in and just be there for when they open their other gifts tomorrow,” I suggested as he sighed pulling out his phone texting his ex-wife.  

I hoped she lets him do that, it’s bad enough she moved the kids back here to Pensacola without him knowing.

 I saw a small smile pass his face as he got a text alert. “She said I could come in the morning to see them open their gifts, and eat breakfast with them,” he said as I smiled brightly at him, truly happy for him.

“I’m glad she changed her mind, I can’t even imagine being without my baby on Christmas,” I said as he grabbed my hand, causing me to blush.

“Enough about me though, how is Kason?” he asked as I smiled brightly at the mention of my son’s name. “He’s great, my mom has him for tonight. She thought I needed the break.”

“You do, I mean your like superwoman. You make sure all our schedules are good and constantly taking care of us all. Then you’re a mom to a very busy ten-month-old. Hell, when we leave the building, your night is just getting started,” he said as I tried not to smile.

 He actually was taking notice and appreciative of my work and who I was as a person.

“Yea, it does but I’m just glad Joe talked them into getting me a bus so I can bring him on the road with me. I love how kid friendly the backstage atmosphere is now under Paul’s leadership.”

“Yea, he has that part down good. Now if only the gossip mill would stop wit they shit, maybe I could walk the halls and not be judged by people that don’t even know me,” his voice trailed off.

I knew he heard the whispers of our coworkers. They were afraid of him, they bought into the persona, but I knew better. He was shy and misunderstood but it was their loss and my gain.

“I wanna dance,” I said standing up and holding my hand out to him as his eyes seemed unsure. It was almost as if he wanted to look around to see if there was anyone else in the room with us.

“Uh, with me?” he asked as nodded, not trusting my voice. “It’s a lot that comes along with this and I know you ain’t ready,” Sefa whispered his eyes piercing my soul as I yearned for him.

“Stop worrying, I’m a big girl and I know what I want,” I said unashamed as he licked his lips. “Is that right? Well, tell me again what you want beautiful,” His deep voice awakening something within me that had been doormat for far too long.

“I want to dance with you…Right here…. Right now,” I declared as he stood up pulling me close, our foreheads touching as I caressed his face.

 His nervousness making me almost shy, but I knew if this was going to happen tonight, I needed to take charge. “Sefa, I don’t want to be alone tonight,” I whispered as his eyes found mine again.

Clearing his throat, I waited with bated breath for his answer. “I don’t wanna be alone tonight either,” he whispered nodding as I released the breath I was holding.

 “I was hoping you would say that,” I said, my fingers playing with his beard as he caressed my hips.

 Building up my courage, I tested the waters with a gentle kiss as a deep groan fell from his lips as we tasted each other.

Suddenly, Sefa pulled me closer, deepening our kiss making it even more impossible for me to gather my myself as he ravaged my mouth with his. My hands gripping the back of his shirt as I whimpered against his lips in pleasure.

His kisses, powerful and intentional as I weakened in his arms.

“Mm, Sefa”, I gasped as he released my lips. Shit, he can kiss, and he knew it by the sly smile that adorned his handsome face as we both caught our breaths.

  “You sure?” he asked as I nodded, his hands caressing my face as he claimed my lips again.

“Mmm, tell me you want me and that I ain’t trippin’ right now,” he whispered, his passionate gaze making me fall even deeper under his spell.

“Yes, I want you,” I moaned as his thumb caressed my lower lip. “You want my head between your thighs eatin' that sweet pussy don’t you?”

 His deep voice sending shivers down my spine as I purred in anticipation.

“Yes! Please Sefa,” I begged unashamed, yearning to be claimed as he licked his lips.

“You want all this dick up in dat pussy rearranging them tight walls don’t you?”

Fuck, he knew his power, and I was already under his spell, ready and willing as I whimpered against him unable to speak.

“Are you ready for all of me Eden, I can be a lot baby, but I promise you ain’t gon’ never forget me.”  

I nodded, rendered powerless as his lips slowly descended upon mine, our kisses becoming deeper and more desperate by the second.

“Yes, take me,” I gasped finally finding my voice as we fell onto the bed.  Our lips and hands exploring each other desperately. “You sure?” he whispered against my lips, as I nodded again.

 “Let me here you, Eden. Do you want me?” he groaned, grabbing my hands pinning them above my head as he towered over me .

 “I want you,” I moaned as a low growl fell from his lips. “I want you too,” he moaned claiming my lips again with urgency as I gasped at the intensity but welcomed it.  

I was losing myself, losing myself in him and I loved it.

Whimpering against his mouth, he abruptly released my lips and let my hands go. “Why did you stop?” I panted trying to catch my breath as he searched my face for discomfort.

 “I knew you weren’t ready for this; I’m moving too fast.  Your scared of me, aren’t you?” he asked as I looked at him in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” I asked not getting how he gathered that conclusion.

“Look, I can take it alright, just tell me your scared of me like everybody els is," he said as I sat up beside him still trying to catch my breath.

“Scared of you? Boy, if anything I needed to breathe so I wouldn’t die on your ass,” I said as he looked at me in confusion.

“I’m serious Sefa, whether you know it or not, your very intense and I like it. It actually makes it hard for me to not lose myself around you,” I confessed as he searched my eyes for any deception in my words.  

 “I’m not scared of you Sefa, if I was, I wouldn’t have come up her,” I said reaching over and placing my hand on his knee.

“You sure you’re not scared?  You would tell me, right?” he asked as I smiled at him.

“Now, if you would have asked me this last year, I would have said yes without a second thought. But, I know you now, and up under that tough enforcer attitude you’re a teddy bear,” I said getting up off the bed and going over to the table to fix me a shot of Tequilla.

“I couldn’t tell that you were scared, you chewed my ass out for not speaking to you the first time we ever talked,” he said as I laughed.

“Hell, its rude to not to say at least hello to someone when they speak to you.”

“A’ight you right, I was wrong,” he said as an idea popped into my head.

“Now, since we got that covered, how bout we get out of here and go to my house. I have a beautiful view of the beach and plenty of privacy,” I offered as he stood up slowly walking towards me.

“Going somewhere more private sounds perfect, I mean we don’t need everybody in our business,” he said as I nodded in agreement. Last thing any of us needed was the gossip mill in our business.

 “I’m happy we’re on the same page, let’s get out of here.”

It was easy to sneak away as the party was in full swing, but Sefa shot Jey a text to let him know he was taking me home and would hit him up later.

The ride to my house at first was quiet but something shifted in the atmosphere as leaned over and playfully nipped at his neck as he drove.

“You playin’ a dangerous game Eden,” he growled as I smiled against his neck slowly reaching down, slipping my hands inside his sweats as he groaned.

“Mmhm, a big dangerous game at that and I can’t wait to play,” I whispered in his ear, as I slowly began to stroke him.

 “Damn, you like playin’ with danger, don’t you?” he moaned as I smiled against his neck. His breathing became more ragged as his hands gripped the steering wheel.

 “Yes, now eyes on the road, I got you,” I whispered as he groaned in appreciation. “Mm, shit… Well, go on then and do your thang.”

 My mama ain’t raised no punk, so Sefa’s bout to get a preview of what’s to come. I just pray it don’t get us killed.

“Make the next right and go about two miles up the road, my house is the last one up on the hill,” I whispered in his ear as one of his hands caressed my thigh.

 “I’mma tear dat pussy up, you know dat right,” he moaned. His deep voice echoing throughout the car and making me even wetter than I already was as I continued to stroke him.

 “Yes, and I can’t wait,” I whispered as his grip on the wheel tightened. “Are we almost there?” he gasped as I smirked knowing he was close as I decided to talk him through it.

“You like my hands pleasing you, don’t you?” I asked as he nodded in concentration putting his other hand back on the wheel.

“Don’t hold back, I want you to let go,” I encouraged as he melted into me. “There is my house, turn in and park,” I said as he quickly pulled into my driveway, throwing the car in park and cutting it off.

"Now, keep your hands on the wheel,” I said as he turned, resting his forehead against mine, keeping his hands on the wheel as I continued to please him.

“Why did you come with me tonight?” I whispered, licking his lips as groaned catching my tongue between his lips as we shared a sloppy wet kiss.

 “Mmm, you know why. Tell me why you wanted me to come?” he moaned, trying to regain control of the situation.

“I wanted you to devour this pussy,” I whispered as he moaned against my lips.

“Now you tell me why you came? Tell me Sefa,” I whispered, beginning to stroke him faster as he gasped.

 “I wanted to have you all to myself and make you scream my fuckin’ name all night long,” he growled grasping my face and claiming my lips in a passionate kiss as he came.

His body trembling as he found his much-needed release. Looking handsome more than ever as he rode out his climax as I watched in awe.

Yea, he defiantly needed that, and I was happy to help.  

“Damn Eden, that was-” he moaned caressing my face, not able to finish his sentence, I smiled.

“It was my pleasure,” I whispered tenderly kissing his lips.

“Now, let me see if you taste as good as you look right now,” I said as he watched me through heavy lids.  

Slowly I leaned down, and licked his cum off of his stomach as he gasped in shock at my actions. Not leaving a single drop, I then slid back into my seat. “Let me see Eden, open up beautiful.” Staring innocently at him, I opened my mouth and released my tongue for him to see.

 “Fuck, dats what I’m talkin’ bout. Mmhm, now swallow dat shit,” he commanded as I did as he instructed.

“Mmm, you taste good,” I whispered licking my lips as he moaned. His powerful gaze awakening the woman within me.   

“You askin’ for trouble,” he hissed as I smirked, before exiting the car as he readjusted himself back into his sweats.

Anxiously, I went to unlock the front door, before turning around to see if Sefa was behind me, but he was still sitting in the car in a daze.

“Stop overthinking Sefa, it’s no rules here,” I said going inside and heading upstairs, dropping articles of clothing along the way as I made my way to my room.

 Hearing his footsteps, I sat down on the side of the bed, crossing my legs wearing only my black stilettos and a smile.

In all honesty I was scared to death, but excited if that made sense.

 My heart began to race as Sefa appeared in the doorway in all his naked glory. My pussy drippin’ and throbbing in anticipation, knowing at any moment he was going to completely engulf me within his flame, and I couldn’t wait.

“I see your waiting for me like a good girl,” he whispered as I smiled holding out my hand to him as he came closer.

“I see you’re ready again,” I whispered looking at his throbbing erection as he smirked.  “Oh, I stay ready and you betta be ready,” he said his voice making me wet as fuck as I moaned at his words.

“Come find out,” I whispered as he took my hand and smiled.  “Are you sure?” he asked once again kneeling before me as I smiled.

 “More than you’ll ever know,” I said as our lips met in another passionate kiss.

 “Merry Christmas, Sefa.”

 “Merry Christmas, Eden” he whispered easing me back onto the bed as I welcomed all of him.  His hands caressing my body as raked my nails down his back in pleasure as he nibbled and sucked on my breasts.

 “Let me see if you taste as good as I imagined,” he panted moving his kisses to my stomach as I gasped.  Fuck, with how this man kisses I know he can give some bomb ass head.

“Are you gon’ give it all to me like a good girl?” Sefa asked dipping his tongue into my belly button as I moaned, running my fingers through his hair.

“Yes! I’mma give it all to you,” I moaned staring down at him in anticipation as he wore a mischievous smirk as my body trembled.

“Well, let me open up my first Christmas present then,” he whispered as his head disappeared between my thighs.

@reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-girl

@melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo

@arination99 @2-muchsauce @bakugoumarianawrites

@empressdede @alyyaanna @christinabae @anonandwannakeepitthatway @venusesworld @jeyusosgirl  @theninthwonder @mya2real  @justazzi @whatdoeseverybodywant @reignsboy19 wooahmiri alichesmi pytbgeezy

[starrayblogs]

Not So Rock-Hearted || Floyd (Trolls) x Reader

a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! or happy holidays~ i hope you all had a wonderful day, and i hope this new chapter is a fun read! likes/reblogs are appreciated, and asks are welcomed c:

tags: @brights-place

✩ previous chapter

v. Keep on Watching

It’s the day of the Secret Holiday Gift Swap.

And you’re panicking.

“Barb!” You barge into the longue room and watch as the mentioned troll shouts, jumps, and drops her invitation. 

“What the- I know I told you you’re welcome anytime, but you can knock-” She tuts when she recognizes that it’s you, bending to pick up her card again.

“I got him!” You pop up in front of her, grabbing her by the shoulders and stopping her from picking up her card again.

“Who’s ‘him’?” Barb raises a brow, leaning her head away and tucking her chin to further emphasize her confusion.

You let her go with furrowed brows and a dreaded look in your eyes. “I got Floyd!” You say, out of breath, like you’ve just sang your heart out.

“Wait, what’s wrong with that?” Barb places a hand on her hip, finally having the opportunity to pick up her invitation.

“Uh- what isn’t wrong with that?” You extend your arms and shake your head in quick, short motions. “I’m already having a hard time confronting my feelings for him, now I have to think about him even more!” You exclaim, letting your weight fall on your butt and your back against the couch. 

Barb laughs, taking her seat next to you with her knee up. “Man, I would have never assumed you’d be a softie underneath all that edge. Then again, that’s any of us actually…” She trails off a bit before letting out an amused sigh, turning her head to you. “Seriously though, don’t complicate things too much.” She shrugs.

“Easy for you to say, who did you get?” You cock your head in her direction, watching her open her card.

“I got…” You hum, watching her pull out the name. “Aww, cool, I got Riff! I totally know what to get ‘im.” She smirks confidently, tucking the piece of paper back in the pocket of the card. 

“Good for you,” you quip quickly before catching her attention. “But what do I get Floyd?” You ask worriedly.

“Uhh… Well, what do you think he’s like?” Barb asks. You look ahead of you, thinking back to him.

“He’s… kind. Very kind, it’s like his whole charm. He’s sweet too, like cotton candy. And he’s reeeaaally cool, I mean come on! The hair was one thing, but spending the weekend with him… When he sang, I immediately got hooked on his voice.” You inhale deeply. “It’s gentle. Like the way he speaks to me, it’s like he cares about me…”

“Maybe because he does.”

You swiftly turn your head to Barb with a deadpan look, who raises her hands up in defense before motioning for you to go on.

“Ugh, he’s just! So…!” You plop your head down on the couch behind you, reaching for a pillow behind you and plopping it on your face.

“So… from all that, what do you think is the best gift for him?” She asks again, but you sigh. You remove the pillow from your face and glance at her. “Hey, you’ve got three days to think about it. I’m sure you’ll come up with something…” She reassures you, patting your shoulder.

And you did, but you weren’t confident with it.

You clear the cough in your throat as you hop off your bike, adjusting your guitar strap. You look ahead to Pop Village, seeing all the other trolls and their gifts. “What if you just handed the gift to Floyd and told him I got sick?” You rapped to Barb, holding your gift nervously.

“Dude.” She looks at you with a ‘seriously?’ face. “No. Poppy always said, it’s the thought that counts when it comes to gifts.” She pokes a finger to your chest. “And every rock troll knows how much you thought about this gift.”

Your cheeks warm up a little, and you let out a long sigh. “You’re right, you’re right.” You hop a bit on your feet, telling yourself to relax a bit. You look at the colorful light bulbs hanging across the entire village, lighting up the night, and smile a little.

“Come on, the gift swap’s about to start.” Barb starts walking with her gift in hand, and you follow her to a big stage where Poppy and Branch stand atop it.

“Welcome to our second Trolls Kingdom Secret Holiday Gift Swap! I’m so glad to have you all here again, and with some new faces this time.” Poppy grins, pointing in the crowd and having a light shine down on the pointed area. You see that it’s Viva, her Putt Putt Trolls (which she told you about), and Brozone all condensed in one area. 

The crowd welcomes them with a cheer, but you find your eyes on that pink-haired troll. You chuckle when you notice the piercing in his ear turned into a snowflake to match the holiday. You turn away and look at his gift in your hands, frowning a bit. You look up when Barb speaks.

“You’ve got this.” Her hand moves to pat the place where your heart would be. “Time to let someone new in this, ya know?” She chuckles and you do the same, following it with a whiney ‘yuck’.

“That’s the sappiest thing you’ve ever said.” You comment, and she shivers.

“Yeah, I think Poppy’s rubbing off on me.” Barb shakes her hair as if there was dirt on her. “But, you know what I mean.” She smirks, nudging your shoulder.

“Now, who’s ready to gift-swap!?” Poppy announces and fireworks shoot up into the sky. “Reveal your secret troll!” She hypes, and the crowd starts moving to find the person they got (who was scrapbooked on the invitation, conveniently).

Barb waves you goodbye to find Riff, which you return until she’s eventually lost in the crowd. You look to where Floyd was previously, but can’t get a glimpse of him from everyone running around. You frown, beginning to aimlessly walk around the crowd to find him until someone lifts you up in a hug.

“Amiga!” You let out a sigh of relief when you realize it’s Viva. When you’re let down, you turn around and return a quick hug.

“Happy holidays, Veev!” You greet and she giggles, still holding her gift. “Who’s the special troll?”

“Barb! The one you always hang out with, have you seen her?” She tilts her head, pursing her lips. 

“Got separated, but I hope you find her. I don’t think you’d miss that bright red mohawk anytime.” You snicker to yourself. “I like your clothes.” You comment on her white leotard with red trimmings and her matching red-and-white striped leg warmers. 

“Aww, thank you, you too-” she’s cut off with a gasp when she does a double take on your hair. “Did you..?” 

“Yeah…” You run a hand through your hair nervously. “Does it look fine?”

“Fine? Fine doesn’t even cut it, you look amazing!” Viva squeals, looking up at your newly two-toned hair. “Guess I don’t have to guess who you got, hm?” She smirks, raising her brows teasingly.

“Yeah…” You smirk eases into a smile. “Have you seen him?”

“Oh, I got separated from him too…” Viva frowns, which causes you to do the same. “But, I have no doubt you’ll find him!” She recovers, jumping on her toes excitedly. “I have a hunch that this holiday is gonna end up so well~” She sings.

“Can’t hide it from you either?” You raise a brow, tilting your head embarrassingly. 

“I’m your childhood best friend, what is it you can hide from me?” Viva smirks, punching you in the shoulder. “I was the one who came up with the idea to put you two together for the morning last weekend.” Your jaw drops, pointing a finger at her.

“That was your doing?” She giggles and winks, turning her back to you and running off with a jolly ‘see ya!’. “Viva, we’re talking about this later!” You yell into the crowd, hoping she hears that.

Your cheeks flush again as you grumble your way to Branch’s bunker, hoping to wait for the crowd to die down and you’d eventually spot Floyd. You hold his gift gently in your hands, maneuvering through the others who are either still finding their troll or are celebrating with their gifts already.

Once you make it out of the cramped area, you walk slowly to the bunker. You kept your eyes on your gift, overthinking if it was good enough to give to him. Then you hear your name.

You hear your name in his voice.

You turn around and see him emerging from the crowd, holding his gift. “Floyd.” You say, out of breath. Your eyes flutter as you watch him walk closer to you. Both of you are now far away from the noise, just the two of you right outside Branch’s house. Just like how you arrived.

He opens his mouth, but then he notices how you look tonight. You’re still dressed in your usual fashion, but for colder weather. Then his eyes met your hair.

“Oh…” His cheeks darken slightly as he sees what you’ve done to your hair. Instead of the highlight in your hair being your favorite color, you dyed it white in the meantime. Your hair matched his. “Your hair…”

“Yeah… I figured I could rock the look, ya know?” You chuckle, trying to keep up your cool image. When he doesn’t laugh with you, your brows furrow, and you frown as you try to meet his eyes. “Do you… not like it?”

“You look great.” He meets your eyes with a wide smile, and, for the first time, you see both of his eyes. “I like that we’re matching.” He follows up with a soft chuckle.

He’s beautiful.

Your frown slowly lifts into a smile as you laugh softly. “Now we’re both cotton candy.” You joke, and he laughs with you this time. There’s a small pause between you two after it dies until he speaks up.

“I’ve been looking for you.” He smiles at you. Your cheeks warm up again, and your shoulders straighten.

“You were?” You repeat, and he nods. He holds out the gift in his hands toward you. Your eyes widen, and you nearly drop your gift for him in shock. “You got me..?” You look back up at him in disbelief.

“Happy holidays.” He simply says with that stupidly charming smile of his. “I hope you like what I got you.” He nudges the box into your hands, and you reluctantly take it after propping his gift against the wall. 

“If it’s from you, Cotton Candy, I’ll enjoy it.” You chuckle. There’s truth in your words, but you were still putting up walls. You unwrap it and reveal a box. You lift up the top and mutter a soft ‘no way’, tossing the cover to the ground. 

Inside was a guitar strap. You gently take it out and set the box on the ground, letting the strap unfurl to its full length to see its design. It’s a simple black strap, but it’s stitched with several symbols related to rock in your favorite color. You don’t notice how wide your smile has gotten, and it only gets wider when you notice the stitched shape of cotton candy on a cone.

“Do you like it?” Floyd asks, bringing your attention back to him.

“I love it.” You reply, holding it close to your chest. You take off your electric guitar carefully, detaching your old guitar strap for your new one. “I’ll wear it forever. Thank you, Cotton Candy.” You laugh softly, placing your old one in the mess of your hair and wearing your guitar again.

He smiles, watching you adjust the guitar to your back again. “So who’d you get?” He tilts his head a bit, and you inhale sharply as your smile drops.

“Oh, funny you ask,” you chuckle nervously, reaching back for his gift again. “I got… Uh, I got you.” You hold out the present to him, looking away with downturned ears and darkened cheeks. “I hope you like it.”

His eyes widen in genuine surprise. His hands slowly rise to take the gift in your hand, trying to guess what the present could be as he turns it around. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, and I was worried the whole time, wondering if this would make you happy.” You explain, watching him carefully tear the wrapping. “Then, I figured that if you don’t like it, I would dye my hair to match yours to make you happy… If you thought I would look funny or, I don’t know.” You fiddle with your (new) guitar strap.

He stops just as he was about to open the box at your words with a furrowed gaze. “Why would I think you’d look funny?” He asks, upset. 

You open your mouth to explain, but no words come out. You shrug your shoulders.

“I would never laugh at your appearance,” Floyd says, stepping closer to you. “I like how you look. I like that you thought about me enough to go as far as dying your hair.” He lets out a small laugh. “You keep getting cooler to me.”

If steam could come out of your ears, you wouldn’t be able to hide how much his words made you feel. Your chest is light again, and your heart is tugging in his direction. Your lips managed to turn into a smile. How can he keep doing that?

He returns to the gift, taking off the cover. “Woah.” He murmurs as he pulls out the gift from the box. You fiddle more with your guitar strap as you wait for more of his reaction.

You got him a rouge-colored acoustic guitar. The sides, fretboard, and soundhole were trimmed white to match. Most importantly, the fretboard was in the shape of a cotton candy swirl and colored both rouge and white. You worked on that guitar for the last two days, getting as much help as you could, but you did most of the work.

“Do you like it..? I wasn’t sure if you could play instruments, and you seemed like a guitar-type guy, so I could teach you-” You began to ramble worriedly until you were interrupted by a few notes played.

You watch him play the guitar smoothly before he stops with a smile, followed by the brightest laugh. “Thank you!” He says, his eyes turned into crescents. “It’s been a while since I’ve played. This is amazing,” he says your name and your worries fly away.

You smile sheepishly, running a hand through your hair for a moment. “I’m glad you enjoy it.”

“I love it.” He corrects you, just like you did. You share another laugh together. 

You hold your gifts to each other gently. His hands are careful with the guitar, and your thumb is carefully stroking the stitched pattern of cotton candy on the guitar strap. 

You’re so focused on his smile as he looks at you that you didn’t even process what he said when you saw his lips move. “What did you say?” You blink your eyes, telling yourself mentally to get it together.

“I asked if you’d like to spend the holiday together. It’s the weekend, right?” He tilts his head with a smile.

“Just the two of us?” You ask, dipping your head but keeping your eyes on him.

“If you’re only okay with it.” He quickly replies, his brows raising with his smile growing sheepish. “I was hoping we could play some songs together.” He chuckles, mostly to himself, but your head rises with a smirk.

“Is this some trap to hear me play again?” You chuckle. He hums, shrugging his shoulders innocently.

“I don’t know what makes you say that.” You laugh a bit harder, and his eyes soften.

You aren’t as scary as he thought you were the first time he saw you. He was taken aback by you’re casual compliment about his hair at the cantina, his heart thumping a bit faster from surprise. When he met you again, he thought you were cool and confident, finding himself interested in you. Then you left your guitar behind, and he took up the responsibility to take care of it until the next morning. When he saw your edgy exterior drop when he gave you back the guitar, something tugged at his heart again. 

And it’s tugging at him again, telling him to find out more about you.

“Come on, I recently got my own pod. We can jam out there.” Floyd suggests, and you nod your head as your laugh dies down.

“Ohh, trying to get a VIP rock show, are you now?” You snicker.

“Stop revealing my plans.” Floyd points a finger at you, trying to contain his own laughs by turning around and leading the way.

You breathe deeply as your face settles in a grin. That felt nice. He makes you feel so nice, and you remember Barb’s words. Your grin drops to a hesitant, small smile as you watch him walk. You think for a moment, wondering if you should just take the leap and grasp that happiness right in front of you.

“Are you coming?” Floyd stops and turns around to find you still standing. You blink and fiddle with your strap again, but you make up your mind. Your smile settles softly as you begin to walk up to him.

“Yeah.”

You two walk away together, making small talk on the way to Floyd’s house. You two walk away, unaware of the crowd watching you.

“Are they gone?” One of them whispers from under the mushroom. 

Branch, who reveals himself by dropping his disguise (which was a fluff ball, with the help of his hair), steps out under the mushroom and looks in the direction you two walked off in too. “Clear.”

There’s a pair of squeals as everyone’s hair disguise reveals themselves underneath the mushroom. “We should’ve put a mistletoe on top of them!”

“Woah, too early, Poppy.” Bruce raises a hand with a light chuckle.

“My little rockstar is growing up.” Barb steps away from Poppy, pouting her lip with a hand to her chest. “It’s sickeningly sweet, but aww, but also eww…” She fake gags, which receives a friendly hit on the back from Poppy.

“They’re adorableee.” Viva coos, her hands pressed to her cheeks.

“If adorable, you mean Floyd can’t even recognize his own growing feelings.” Branch rolls his eyes as he crosses his arms.

“Like you were any better.” Poppy smirks, hand on her hip.

“I agree with boytoy over there, though.” Barb raises her arms and dips her head in surrender. “It’s all cute seeing them together, but I don’t think I’m emotionally prepared to be a possible confession dummy.” She contemplates, scratching her ear.

“How long do you think until they get together?” JD tilts his head with crossed arms.

“Oh, I think they’re just like this sad romance book I read where-” Clay starts rambling about his predictions, earning the approval of Poppy and Viva, with the others weirdly agreeing with him too.

✩ next chapter

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Five Christmases

Prompt Day 25: Christmas | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Christmas Day, Full Schedule, Family & Friends, Mostly Fluff, A Little Obligation, Steve POV

Christmas, 1999

8:06 AM

Steve is towel drying his hair, when Eddie pops into the doorway and taps his watch. 

"The day has just started and we're already six minutes behind, Harrington. C'mon!" 

Steve nods, "We'll be fine."

"Steve! Five Christmases! You committed us to five! That's a tight fucking schedule," Eddie shouts, and Steve just laughs. Usually he's the uptight one.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Steve says, just poking at him further. Just for fun, as a Christmas treat.

"This was your idea, asshole," Eddie says, slamming the bathroom door behind him, "I'm leaving in nine minutes, with or without you!"

"Okay, Bono!" Steve screams, not even sure if Eddie heard him.

9:12 AM

"Sorry we're late!" Eddie yells, pushing the front door open, letting themselves inside. "It's Steve's fault!"

Wayne gets up when he hears the door open, and Steve hugs Wayne. Eddie needs to chill the fuck out. Nobody is going to care if they are a few minutes late. Well, his parents will care. But nobody else will, especially not Wayne, that's for damn sure. 

Wayne's house smells wonderful, like maple syrup, coffee and bacon. This was a perfect first stop of the day, nobody does breakfast better than Wayne. 

They help him carry it all to the small formica kitchen table, sliding into the comfortable vinyl chairs, and it tastes as good as it smells. 

This is Christmas. 

The one thing they've done every year they've been together. Breakfast with Wayne. It's the only true Christmas tradition they have, and Steve wouldn't trade it for the world.

11:58 AM

Steve looks at his watch. They definitely aren't late as they stand on the steps, having rung the bell at the Harrington residence. 

Steve debates ringing it a second time, but just waits. Surely they heard it.

And it takes forever, because it's cold as shit out here, but his mother finally answers the door.

"Hi, mom. Merry Christmas," Steve says, and she nods her head at them, opening the door wider.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Harrington," Eddie says, politely. 

The long, formal dining room table is set up, and since it's just for the four of them, it's a little ridiculous. But he slides into his chair, a thousand miles away from everyone else at the table. His parents at either end, and Eddie across from him, hands folded in his lap.

He's nervous, Steve can tell. It never gets more comfortable, this awkward tip-toeing they all do around each other.

His parents know about Eddie, but would rather pretend otherwise, Steve supposes.

So, they eat their awkward meal, in uncomfortable stretches of silence.

In the car, Steve reaches over and takes Eddie's hand into his own, bringing it up to his lips.

"Thank you," Steve says, and Eddie nods. "The next one will be more fun," Steve promises and Eddie grins, wide and excited.

2:11 PM

They are barely up the walkway when the front door swings open, banging against the hallway wall.

"Shoes!" Steve hears being hollered from the house, but it's too late. Eddie's got an armful of little girl, despite her mother's warning.

"Uncle Eddie, Santa came!" she yells and Eddie smiles, brushing the snow off of her bare feet. 

Gareth appears in the doorway, to usher them inside, as his daughter regales them with tales of all her new toys that Santa brought this morning.

Eddie puts her down once they're inside, and rattles the sack he has thrown over his shoulder, full of more presents. 

Gareth shakes his head, but hugs Eddie once Eddie's handed over the sack, and she's ran into the living room, to open them up.

"You didn't have to do that," Gareth says, and Steve hears Eddie laugh. Of course they did.

"Sure we did, that's our girl, too, you know. And it's our right, as her super fun uncles, to spoil her rotten," Eddie states.

Gareth laughs, and settles onto the armrest of the chair Eddie has plopped down into, to watch her tear open the wrapping paper with delight.

5:33 PM

"Merry Christmas, dickhead," Steve says, and hugs Dustin.

"Back atcha," Dustin answers, guiding them into the living room. There's a nice fire going, and it's cozy. 

Steve's glad Henderson finally moved closer to home, again. It's been too long. 

Dustin pours them both a drink, and they sit and just talk. It's quiet, calm, and comfortable. All things Steve never would have assigned to Dustin Henderson, even ten years ago. But he's grown up, right before their very eyes. 

Their kid.

He'll always be their kid.

7:45 PM

Robin's running around her kitchen, and it smells slightly of smoke, so as soon as they're in the door, they both step in to help her, so she doesn't actually burn the place down. She wanted to do dinner by herself this year, and they'd all agreed, but she's clearly in over her head.

"I just spilled on the burner! It's fine! Nothing's on fire!" she yells, and Steve picks up the smoke detector from the counter, that's clearly been yanked off the wall.

"I can confirm!" Robin's girlfriend yells from the other room.

And honestly? Steve thinks they're both right, taking a good look around the kitchen. It all looks really good. A huge mess, for sure, but damn good. 

"It looks great, Robbie. You're killing it," Steve says, hugging her from behind, and she shrugs him off, still moving at warp speed around the kitchen. 

When they head towards the table, Steve kisses Robin on the top of the head before taking his seat, "Thanks for going to all this trouble."

Robin just rolls her eyes.

11:54 PM

"Merry Christmas," Steve says, as Eddie slides into bed, flopping against his pillow, groaning at the simple pleasure of the act.

"I have one more present for you," Steve says, sliding his hand over Eddie's bare stomach, and that gets Eddie's attention. 

"I'm listening…"

Steve laughs, and leans over, kissing him. 

Notes: The idea came from the Gilmore Girls episode where they have to go to four Thanksgivings in one day. Then I was googling the spelling of Christmases (to make sure, ha) and realized there is a movie called Four Christmases. So, that too, I guess, lol.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[yandere-writer-momo]

Baki 12 days of Christmas… an angsty yandere for @justamegafan. Merry Christmas!!

The mc is Hanayama’s arranged fiancée who he hates (at first). A trope I will never stop writing until I’m shot dead on the spot

Yandere Baki Shorts: A Christmas Carol

Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Afab Reader

TW: Angst, mentioned character death (spoiler), Yandere, and mention of terminal illness

Hanayama often found his fiancée scuttling around his office like a little crab. She was such a skittish thing, with big, innocent eyes and a soft voice. She was weak, something Hanayama disliked most in a partner. And she always tried her best to get to know him… today was no exception

“Can we please spend Christmas together? Just this once?” Hanayama sighed when she stared up at him with her doe like eyes. Why couldn’t she get the hint that he wanted to be left alone?

“This is merely an arrangement by our families, I could care less about your feelings and the stupid holidays.” Hanayama ran a hand through his dark locks. “You’re bothering me so I suggest you leave.”

Hanayama ignored the soft sobs that escaped her lips and he didn’t even cast her a glance when she wished him a soft “Happy holidays.” The door quietly shut behind her and he went back to work. At least she could shut the door properly.

Hanayama shoved the Christmas cookies she made him into the trash beside his desk and continued to work on his paperwork. Hopefully this was the last time he’d ever have to deal with her… he couldn’t stand this arrangement but he kept with it because he wanted to honor his deceased mother’s wishes. Hanayama knew he could never grow to love the meek woman no matter how hard he tried, she’d break if he so much as touched her. She was far too fragile for him.

When it finally became night, Hanayama decided to retire for the night. The yakuza went to lay down in his bed but the screen door to his room suddenly opened and a cold, winter breeze blew in. What on earth?

“Hello.” Hanayama nearly jumped out of his skin when a ghostly apparition stood at the foot of his bed. The youthful face of his mother stared back at him which left his mouth gaping like a fish. “It’s been so long…”

“M-mom?” Hanayama reached out for the figure but she gently put his hands down. She was as cold as ice… “Why are you here?”

“We need to go for a walk… a nice, long walk.” His mother gave him a soft smile as she lead him around towards the door of his room. “A walk in the past.”

“The past… what do you mean?”

“Well, I’m the ghost of Christmas past.” His mother smiled as the walls of the compound began to change to the ones he was familiar with when he was a child. What kind of magic was this? How was this even possible? “You need to be reminded of your origins…”

Hanayama was shocked to see himself as a child crying as he sat beside his mother in the old family room. The ghost beside him pointed to the red welt on her human body’s face. “I used to beg your father to stay with me every once and awhile… to spend time with us as a family.”

Hanayama frowned as he watched the image play out of his mother. How could he forget that his mother had begged to spend time with his father when he was younger… perhaps he had blocked all those memories out since he had to become the leader of the yakuza at a young age? “This was the Christmas where I found out I had cancer… I really wanted to spend time with him since my time was running out…”

The ghost shook her head and lead Hanayama back to his room once she felt as if he understood her point.

The ghost held Hanayama’s hand. “You’ve grown so much… you look just like your father.”

Hanayama went to hold the ghost but she pushed him back, “and you’re just like your father.”

“Wait! Please don’t go-“ the figure of his mother was gone in a flash which left him clutching his chest in sorrow. Why did his mom leave so fast… wasn’t she proud that he’s taken over the family? Why did she show him such an image?

“It’s been awhile, Hanayama.” Hanayama froze when he noticed the ghostly figure of Retsu standing at his door. “It seems that it’s my turn with you as the ghost of Christmas Present.”

Hanayama was silent in thought. Retsu had just passed away recently yet… why would he be here? Retsu had nothing to do with his life…

Retsu waved Hanayama to follow him and Hanayama obliged. The two walked in silence until they stopped in front of a small room in the furthest corner of the compound. Retsu placed a hand on the screen door which made it into a mirror that they could see inside… (your name) sat in her room violently coughing.

“You know I was her best friend when I was alive.” Retsu whispered as he turned to look at Hanayama. “She’s dying, you know.”

Hanayama froze in shock. (Your name) was dying… she was dying. Why hadn’t she told him she was sick? Why- Hanayama was drawn out of his thoughts when Retsu held up a hand. The Chinese man frowned at Hanayama. “You don’t listen to her so she’s never told you… she needs new lungs.”

Hanayama placed a hand on the doorway when he saw her hold up a handkerchief full of blood. She was so fragile… just like his mother. And he had been so cruel to her. How could he-

“I was planning on confessing to her once I beat Musashi.” Retsu shared with Hanayama as he went into the room and sat beside (your name). She obviously couldn’t see Retsu as she softly cried. “I was in love with her.”

Hanayama clenched his fists as he watched Retsu drape a blanket around (your name)’s shoulders which made her look around the room in surprise. The man turned to Hanayama with a frown. “But my own pride ruined everything… I just want her to be happy.”

“… did you come here to gloat in my face?”

“No. She didn’t feel the same way.” Retsu smiled at Hanayama as he combed his fingers through (your name)’s hair. The ghost smiled sadly. “It’s so unfair… she deserves so much better than you.”

Hanayama was offended despite how correct Retsu was… he truly didn’t deserve (your name). She was always kind and sweet to him despite how many times he pushed her away over the years. She was undaunted by his rejection and still tried to get to know him… he should give it another chance. He should do something wonderful for her tomorrow…

Retsu rested his ghostly head on (your name)’s shoulder with a sad sigh. He pressed a parting kiss to her shoulder which made her glance around the room in confusion. The man then lead Hanayama back to his room. “I’m sorry… my feelings started to get in the way of what I was meant to show you. You’ll be visited by one last ghost, the ghost of Christmas future.”

Hanayama went to say something to Retsu but he was gone in a flash. The yakuza stood in the center of the room in confusion. One more ghost… who on earth could that be?

Hanayama then felt a sudden chill run down his spine as the room before him melted away into that of a grave yard. A ghastly figure in a black cloak that covered their body floated into the room. A skeletal hand was placed on his shoulder while the other pointed at a gravestone with (your name)‘s name on it. No… (your name) would die? She couldn’t die… she was so young.

Hanayama didn’t even have time to think before the ghost snapped their fingers and showed Hanayama a much older of himself who sat hunched over his desk. The older version sobbing as he held his head. What on earth had happened?

“You never found love again after she died.” The ghost whispered into his ear. “You actually went insane with guilt and it made your yakuza family fall apart.”

Hanayama watched this foreign version of him chug down an entire bottle of whiskey as he held a picture in his hand… it was a wedding picture of him and (your name)… they were meant to get married in a few months… so this must be a few years from now.

“I didn’t know… I didn’t know…” the other version of Hanayama whispered as he pressed his forehead against the picture. “I’m so sorry… I’m sorry.”

Hanayama frowned at how his office was in disarray. This wasn’t like him at all… why on earth was his office so messy?

“She kept all your paperwork organized. She’d sneak into your office when you were asleep to try to help you out since you’re not every good with numbers.” The ghost chuckled bitterly. “She as such a stupid woman… falling in love with a man as selfish as you.”

Hanayama gasped when the ghost pulled up the hood over their head to reveal (your name). Except there was no warmness in her eyes nor was there her tender smile. Why did she look so cold… why did she look at him with such eyes full of resentment? She loved him…

“This is your future. My future.” The ghost told him with a sigh. “You have to change, Hanayama.”

Hanayama but his lip as he stared at the sobbing figure of his future self. He didn’t want to be so pathetic…

“What do I have to do?” Hanayama asked the ghost who frowned at him. She didn’t say a word as she walked away. Hanayama went to follow her but the hallways began to distort and show Hanayama a different ghost of (your name) who sat side by side with the ghost Retsu. They looked so happy… she wasn’t supposed to be with Retsu. She was his. “Wait! Where are you going?”

Many images of the way he’s treated his fiancée flashed by him as he hopelessly chased after the ghost. Her teary face and bloody handkerchief now haunted him… he didn’t want her to suffer anymore. Hanayama didn’t want her to die… she couldn’t die. And he certainly didn’t want his wife to be with another man. No. She was his… (your name) belonged to him.

“There’s nothing you can do.” The ghost told him as she gave him a soft smile that was eerily similar to the ones his (your name) gave him. “Now wake up.”

And that’s when Hanayama fell into a dark bottomless pit. The large man couldn’t even utter a sound before he woke up in his bed. His body was covered in sweat and his eyes were wide in horror. A nightmare…

Hanayama’s hands grabbed at his body in shock before he gave a laugh full of disbelief escaped him. He was alive… he was fine…

Hanayama shot out of bed and quickly made his way towards (your name)’s room. He had to make sure she was alive… he had to make sure she was okay.

Hanayama slammed the door open to (your name)’s room which scared the poor girl out of her wits. She was already dressed for the day and was shocked to see Hanayama in his pajamas.

“O-oh. I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong-“ (your name) was shocked when Hanayama pulled her into a hug. The giant man pressed kissed all over her cheeks with passionate fervor.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Hanayama chanted as he ran his thumbs over her soft cheeks. “Let’s spend Christmas together.”

(Your name) couldn’t utter a single word out before she was whisked out of her room and brought to the dining room she had always wanted to sit at with him. What was going on? Had Hanayama gone insane? She was going to leave him alone just like he had wanted… so why did he have this sudden change of heart.

Hanayama had his servants quickly prepare a gran breakfast for the two of them. His large hand held hers close to his chest. The yakuza boss pressed kisses all over her knuckles as he waited for their food.

“I won’t ever ignore you again. We’ll spend every meal together and you can move into my room…” Hanayama gave her a soft smile. “And I’ll pay for your medicine, okay? You can get that procedure-“

“I-I never told you I was sick.” (Your name) whispered as she tried to pull her hand away. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything for me-“

(Your name) gasped when Hanayama suddenly pulled her onto his lap and pressed his lips against hers in a searing kiss. His dark eyes never let hers. “Nonsense… I’m going to be a good fiancé from now on and an even better husband.”

Hanayama’s hands began to explore her curves as a different kind of hunger filled his eyes. “I’ll take care of your every need from now on… because you’re mine.”

Rather than change for the better, he had changed for the worse

[ryuryuryuyurboat]

the most beautiful time of the year

synopsis: the happiest season of all.

genre: fluff

characters: albedo x gn! reader, klee cameo (platonic)

warnings: reader referred to in 2nd pov, klee pov for first half, then switches to albedo pov, cheek kiss

a/n: hehe hi @xcyphoz0a!! so sorry for the wait, but surprise! i'm your secret santa for @astronetwrk’s secret santa event >:) i hope you like this gift<3 merry christmas! likes, reblogs and comments highly appreciated!!

©2023 ryuryuryuyurboat. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.

masterlist

there were three reasons why klee loved having you as her babysitter.

one: you didn’t punish her with ‘solitary confinement’ when she accidentally splattered paint on the walls, much unlike big brother albedo’s coworker— miss jean.

two: you were pretty and great fun to play with. 

three: having you over meant big brother albedo was happy! that pink hue on his cheeks must mean he loves you, right? if big brother was happy, then klee was even happier! now, if only you could come over more often so that she could avoid miss jean big brother could come out of his room more often instead of staying in there with his experiments…

klee knew there were also three reasons why albedo loved having you help babysit her.

one: you knew exactly how to calm her down and keep her occupied with activities that were… less destructive than what she normally endeavoured to do.

two: klee loved having you over.

three: it gave him opportunities to sit at one side and fill up his sketchbook with more drawings (featuring you). though he’d vehemently deny it ever happened if you asked. weird.

albedo watches from afar as you run after a really excited klee– well, who wouldn’t? it was a beautiful day, with yet another year nearing its end, the sun was out, and the snow on the cold ground had thickened just enough, and– 

“no, klee, don’t eat the snow!” his eyes zeros in on a frantic you holding klee’s wrist, fretting like a worried parent, your cries of “it’s dirty, you don’t know what’s been on it, don’t pick it up off the ground!” going unheard under bubbly peals of laughter. 

a fond smile grows on his face. what a sight to behold. a page of his sketchbook is filled.

he observes as you chase after klee armed with a snowball, while she runs to take cover behind the little snowman you both made not too long ago, wild shouts of merriment filling the air. his pencil moves smoothly on the new page of his sketchbook. it would’ve been a shame if he were unable to capture this lovely scene before him.

he looks over at your cold, flushed faces and noses red from the biting cold, glee all over your face as you bend, hands on knees, panting out a “i think i need a break,” before collapsing onto the snow spreadeagled. klee, concerned for your health, comes running over, only to be dragged down onto the ground with a surprise tickle attack from you– it soon becomes a lesson on how to make the perfect snow angel. an angelic scene, if he said so himself. he flips to a new page on his sketchbook.

when you both had fully exhausted yourselves, trudging back up to the comfort of the house, klee stops and points at something over his head. confused, he looks up– what should have been a glaucous blue bauble had somehow been replaced by an all-too-familiar looking plant. 

you stop right in front of him just as he feels his heart stop, your lips parting– would words he’s been yearning so long for come out of your mouth? he feels a tingle on the back of his neck— a familiar sensation, no doubt— was it nerves? was it your hand?

nope, none of that.

he shivers as you mash a snowball (previously hidden in the palm of your hand) into the back of his neck, your lips upturned in a cheeky grin— but before he can react, you lean in and press a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

he doesn’t hear the badly-stifled giggles from klee, who peeked out from behind a wall with a devious grin, nor does he feel his sketchbook slipping from his hand.

albedo thinks he might be in love.

taglist: @yinyinggie @lynyluvr @kazemiya @meidnightrain (send ask to be added to taglist!)

if you liked this, do consider dropping me a follow for more :>

[rawritzrobin]

The Waynes: Chapter 8

Title: The Waynes

Pairing: Mobster!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: None!

Summary: Dick comes over for a quick chat. Jason asks a special question.

A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone! Super thankful to have you all here supporting one another. The holidays can be a lonely time for some people so remember be nice to those around you and check in on those that need it. Exactly one year ago today I posted the first chapter of The Waynes. Thanks for sticking with me!

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added!): @msghostface @khaylin27 @thequeenofbigmacs @escapism-r-us @orighami @neobreakmyback @bubbles-incorrect-yb @hypnobanditprofessorhorse-blog @attllas @comic-cat83 @mommyneytiri @aerangi @thegreawizards @baebeepeach @slitheringss @xoxoyourdoll @portrait-ninja @sunflowertardis @anime-lover-forever-1127 @wrldwidemind @dopedreamobject @jayroytodd @vanessa-boo @ih4temy5elfs0b4d @solivagantlife @killerwendigo

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Chapter 8: Move in with me?

Jason never slept well. Not even when he was exhausted. Especially not in his own bed.

So he was surprised when he opened his eyes, and there was some light peeking out from behind the blinds. 

He tried to sit up and reach for his phone, when something moved next to him. He quickly turned over to see you asleep next to him. He smiled as he watched you sleep for a moment. It had been a while since Jason felt this kind of peace in his life. 

But as usual, his peace never lasted as his phone started to vibrate on the nightstand. He quickly picked it up and gently got out of bed, being very careful not to wake you.

He looked back to see you were still fast asleep. He tiptoed out of the room and quietly closed the door behind him. As soon as he was far enough away from the room, he answered the phone. Without saying a word, Dick’s voice came through.

“Hey Jason. How is she?” He asked.

“She's fine. Still sleeping. Probably from the overuse of adrenaline last night.” Jason said, making his way into the kitchen.

“I know you’ll be mad. But open the door. I’m here.”

Jason groaned. Dick loved to show up unannounced. He used to show up at Jason’s door every night at the manor. The man loved annoying the crap out of him. Normally, Jason would just tell Dick to go home. But he was curious why Dick felt the need to come over today. With everything that was going on, especially with Carl, he wanted to make sure everything was okay.

Jason quickly, but quietly, made his way to the front door after giving the doorman permission to let Dick up the elevator. He waited by the door and in a few minutes, it opened, and a very well dressed Dick Grayson stood at the door. Even at 8AM, Dick was dressed to the nines. Today it was a full royal blue three piece suit. The blue really made his eyes pop brighter than usual. Dick opened his mouth to speak, but Jason shushed him immediately. Dick only had one volume: Loud.

“She's still asleep.” Jason said as quietly as he could, ushering Dick to come inside. They could talk in the kitchen where the sound didn’t travel upstairs.

They quietly made their way into Jason’s giant black kitchen. Without saying a word, Jason started to make an espresso. As soon as Dick sat down on one of the kitchen stools, he started to speak. “You really care about her, don't you?”

Jason didn’t answer at first. Instead, he turned his attention to the bar, rather than the espresso machine. He needed something stronger than just a coffee today.

“Why does it feel like everyone suddenly cares about my life now. No one cared when I dated before. Why now?” He asked, annoyed. He popped the top off of his favorite whiskey and poured a large shot. As the coffee finished dripping, he took the mug and handed it to Dick. He quickly took a sip of his own drink to brace himself for the real reason Dick was here.

Dick looked at him sadly. “We’ve always cared, Jason. It’s just… you never actually cared about any of the previous girls.” 

Jason scoffed. Dick was right, he just didn’t want to agree. His love life was non-existent. He only ever had one night stands. He couldn’t even tell you the first name of the last few girls he’s slept with. Not that he cared about any of those girls at all. Most of them didn’t even care about him either. They were there for his pleasure, that was it. This was his first real relationship of actual substance. He smiled as he remembered you were upstairs in his bed of all places. None of the other girls had even seen the inside of Charles’ car let alone stepped foot into the parking lot of his building. But his smile quickly faded as he remembered who was currently standing in his kitchen.

“We both know you’re not here to talk about my love life Dicky. Why are you really here? What does Bruce want?”

Dick sighed. His intentions were good at first. He really just wanted to make sure Y/N and Jason were okay. But halfway into his card ride here, Bruce called. 

“The gala.”

Jason rolled his eyes immediately. Any mention of a gala always annoyed him. The Wayne family lived and breathed galas. How so many of those outrageously expensive galas were planned was beyond him. He had hated them when he was a kid, and he hated them now. He was always bad at fake socialization.

“Which one is it now? He remembers what happened last time right? Does he really want another Jason Todd headline to deal with?” Jason said, quickly downing the rest of his drink and pouring himself another one.

“This ones different. Alfred is throwing it. He wants you there.” Dick handed Jason an envelope. It had the words: “Jason Todd”, written in perfect cursive on it. Jason took it, and put it on the counter.

Jason sighed. Alfred was always Jason’s weakness. He saw the man like a father more than he ever saw Bruce. He would do anything for that man.

“Is it really for Alfred?” Jason asked, looking Dick right in the eyes. He knew Dick’s trick’s. He basically had to make up a lie every time he wanted Jason to do something. But Dick was also a bad liar, especially to his family.

Dick looked him right in the eyes, and nodded. “Yes. I’m not lying this time. Swear on Barbara.”

Jason rubbed his temple in annoyance. He was telling the truth. Alfred never got involved with the Wayne Family crimes. So if it really was a gala he was throwing, it would be for a good cause.

“Fine. I’ll show up. When is it?”

“Next Friday. He asked you to bring Y/N.”

Jason’s head snapped up. “Why?”

“He really likes her J. He thinks she’s good for you.” Dick paused. “We all do.”

Jason watched him closely. There was more to this.

“Bruce thinks it's a good idea to make your relationship public. The Falcones already know about her. If you two are public it would make more sense to up security around her. After All, she is dating a Wayne.” Dick said, taking a long sip of his coffee. His eyes stayed on Jason.

Jason stared at Dick for a while. He was meaning to up security around Y/N. Especially after what happened yesterday. He never thought about how weird it would be for her to suddenly be traveling around with bodyguards all day. Dick’s next question broke him out of his thoughts.

“Sorry Jason, but I gotta ask. Have you told her yet?” 

Jason scoffed. “No. Of course not. How do you think she would react?”

Dick shrugged. “Barbara took it pretty well.”

Jason scoffed. “You’re the face of the group. The one who talks to tabloids and flirts with reporters. Of course she took it well.”

Jason poured himself another shot. He looked down at his drink and sighed.

“I’m the one who does the dirty business. I wouldn’t even know how to tell her. Hey Y/N, whenever my family needs information, I torture it out of people. Or better yet, sometimes I end up killing them. My kill count? I don't even know at this point. How do you think she would react to that?” He said sadly. 

Dick got up from his seat, and put an arm on Jason’s shoulder. “You’re not just a killer J. All the info you get from those dirtbags help us. You know that. It’s not that you enjoy doing it, you’re just very good at it. Remember that one time I tried and the guy just laughed at me?”

Jason continued to look down. “I’m a bad guy Dick. That’s what she will see when I tell her. A monster.”

Dick wasn’t sure what to say. He knew the business was rough. It wasn’t always clean and they all knew it. To the outside world, they were all criminals.

The sound of a pair of feet walking into the kitchen startled the two boys. 

“Hi Dick!” You said cheerily. “I didn’t know you were here.” Your instincts were correct. Something inside you said that you should put some clothes on before getting out of bed. And you were glad you did. You were wearing one of Jason’s extra large t-shirts and a pair of pajama tights. The shirt was like a dress on you.

Jason’s mood changed immediately. Dick could practically feel it. He smiled when Jason got up from his seat and hugged Y/N. He looked away when you went up for a kiss.

“That’s my cue to leave. I’ll be out of your hair soon lovebirds.”

You laughed and pulled away. “No! Stay as long as you want. We don’t have anything planned today.” You said with a smile.

Dick shook his head and started to make his way towards the elevator. “Nah, Barbara and I have breakfast plans. I’ll be late if I stay any longer. You don’t want to see her mad.” He said as he made his way to the elevator. You both followed him out. The elevator opened and Dick stepped in. He turned around and waved. “Nice to see you again Y/N. Lets do brunch next time!” He said as the doors closed, Dick disappearing behind them.

You turned to Jason. “Is everything okay?” You asked, inquiring about Dick’s presence.

Jason nodded as he took your hand in his. “Yeah, he just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He smiled down at you and led you back to the kitchen. You sat down at one of the stools and watched Jason start to prepare breakfast for the both of you.

Just as he finished plating up the scramble eggs, the doorbell rang.

“I'll get it. It’s just Charles.” Jason said as he made his way towards the door.

You grabbed your fork and took a bite of the eggs in front of you. You moaned in pleasure. Jason was a fantastic cook. It didn’t make sense as he had access to some of the best restaurants in the world and enough money to go to those restaurants every day. But you weren’t going to complain.

Jason got back quickly, with a small box in his hand. You watched him as he took a seat in front of you and pushed the box towards you on the table.

“For you.” He said with a small smile.

You took the box and opened it, curious at what it could be. Inside the box was a small black card. It was attached to a keychain. You looked up at Jason, confused.

“It’s a key. To this place.” He said. “ He reached out and took your hand in his. “Y/N. I’ve wanted to ask you for a while now. There was just never a good time. But after everything that happened last night, and everything that could possibly happen in the future when more people find out about us, there is no better time.”

You looked at him. Still not sure where he was going just yet.

The security is top notch here. No one can come up unless they have a key or they can be let in by security, which is staffed 24/7. We can also go buy you some stuff to redecorate. I know it screams single bachelor in here. I didn’t even do any of the decorating, it was all Alfred. But I have to admit, he knows exactly what I like. Oh and Alfred comes by every once in a while with supplies so you dont have to worry about that anymore. You can let him know the type of stuff you like and he can bring you some.

Jason went on and on about the amenities of his penthouse. You stopped him before he kept going. “Jay.” You said as you squeezed his hand. “You’re babbling.” You said with a laugh.

Jason stopped speaking, and took a deep breath. “Doll, will you move in with me?” Jason said nervously, looking down as he was afraid of your answer.

You knew the answer right away. You couldn’t believe this was happening. A big smile began to form on your face as Jason finally had the courage to look up at you.

“Are you kidding? I get to live here? I mean I would love to bring some life in here. Maybe some pictures of us or some less abstract paintings.” You said as you started to walk into the living room. “We could get a tree and put it here for christmas! I never got one because I was never able to lug it up the stairs by myself.” You said excitedly, running through the living room. Jason followed you as you began to spin in circles, trying to admire every square foot of the house. You finally stopped spinning and looked at Jason, who was laughing at your reaction.

“So I take it that's a yes?” He said.

You stopped and realized you had never given him an answer. With a few steps forward, you wrapped your arms around Jason’s neck, and tipped toed up for a kiss. Jason wrapped his arms around you. After a few seconds, you pulled away, and looked up at his large teal eyes.

“Yes Jason Todd. I will move in with you.”

Jason beamed, his face painted with the largest smile he could muster.

Your face dropped for a second, as you suddenly remembered how far you were from work. “But how will I get to the bakery?” You asked. You didn’t have a car. Never needed one. But now, public transportation from this far into the city would be a nightmare.

“Charles will drive you.”

You looked at him quizzically. “But doesnt he have another job to be at? You know, for Bruce?”

Jason shook his head. “Not anymore. As of today he is your fill time driver and bodyguard.”

“Bodyguard?” You asked. Confused.

Jason’s grip around your waist tightens a bit. “After yesterday, Bruce suggested that we have Charles take on a new role as your bodyguard. He will be there when I am not. Just as a precaution. Just in case.”

You thought about it for a minute, you never in a thousand years would have thought that you, Y/N, an average girl, needed a bodyguard. The idea was far beyond your understanding, but it didn’t seem so bad. Plus, you really like Charles.

“Okay.” You said with a smile. “But it's going to be a bit difficult to explain to Pam and Jim why I have a large man following me at all times.” You said with a laugh.

“Oh, and one more thing.” He said, turning around to run into the kitchen to grab the invite. He handed you the envelope and watched as you opened it.

Your eyes lit up. You had heard about the Wayne gala’s. Everyone in Gotham has. They were always the most exclusive events of the year. Only the best of the best were invited. 

“Alfred invited us. He’s doing a charity for the children’s hospital for Christmas this year. But only if you want to.”

“Of course I want to! But, I don’t have anything fancy enough to wear to this.” You said sadly.

Jason smirked, and wrapped his arms around you. “Well then let's get you a new dress today. I faintly remember you telling Dick we didn’t have any plans today. We do now. Oh, and…” He said taking out his wallet and grabbing a sleek black card. “It’s all on Bruce.” He said with a smirk.

When you woke up that morning, the only plan you had was to finish up reading the book you had started last week. But now, not only were you moving in with Jason, into a penthouse no less, but you were about to go shopping for a brand new dress paid for by none other than Bruce Wayne. All for a gala hosted by the Wayne family.

You turned to look at Jason. “If this is a dream. Don’t wake me.” You said with a laugh.

“That makes two of us.” Jason said smirk as he leaned forward to capture your lips into his.

[penkura]

last forever [7/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: I apologize for glossing over and skipping fights and so much of this arc. Writing violence is not my forte, and I'd rather focus on the main relationship. We all know how One Piece goes anyway. I had to go back and refresh myself on some of the details, it's been a while since I read/watched Water Seven and Enies Lobby.

But also, I was SO NERVOUS writing a certain part of this, its NOT my usual style omg. But I needed to write what I did when it popped into my head. Just wait until a bit later, though omg. This stays SFW, I swear.

Taglist:

@misfits1a

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6]

When you finally make it to Water Seven, after your run in with the Foxy Pirates and Admiral Aokiji, it’s nice to be somewhere you recognize. Having only been here a few times when your dad had business and he chose to bring you and Elias, it was always your favorite trip to take when your mother would let you tag along.

The only person who knows this at first, apart from Zoro, is Sanji, when you choose to go into the city with him as Zoro watches the ship; Luffy, Nami, and Usopp go to exchange the gold for actually money, and Chopper goes with Robin to find a bookstore. Sanji laughs a bit when you tell him you’ve been here a few times, give or take.

“You may have been a bit sheltered, but you were well traveled!”

Laughing in return, you tighten your arms around Sanji, laying your head on his back as your Yagara ride continues down the water street, watching all the people. It’s been so long, you forgot how lively this city was.

“Mom would always try to make me stay home with her, but I’d cry and throw a tantrum until she let me go, normally because my brother asked for me to. I was a little spoiled back then by Elias.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Sanji looks over his shoulder to give you a smile, “You were the baby, that’s expected.”

“Tch, yeah,” scoffing, you don’t look up at him, “The baby no one but my brother really wanted.”

He doesn’t say anything, instead just patting one of your hands, which makes you fist his shirt in your grip for a moment before relaxing again. Sanji knows more about your life growing up than most of your crew, only Zoro really having the nearly full story. Even then, you’ve kept somethings to yourself, not because they were painful memories, but because they were some of the few good times you remember, they were more precious to you than any other memories.

The two of you quickly find the shopping district and purchase copious amount of local foods, Sanji reeling off different ideas for dishes as he catches sight of Robin, grabbing your hand to drag you along and around a corner he swears to you he saw her go down, but she’s nowhere to be seen and neither is Chopper.

Your doctor does find you both a few moments later, apologizing on your way back to Merry for losing Robin, but you tell him not to worry, she can take care of herself, she’ll come back later.

When you get back to Merry, the update Zoro gives you feels like a knife in all your hearts. 

“What do you mean Merry is unfixable?!”

“Just what I said,” Zoro doesn’t fully look at Sanji, instead making sure you’re all right with the news, though the frown and starting of tears tell him you aren’t, “A shipwright came to check and said so.”

You hate the idea of having to give up Merry, whether that’s what Luffy’s decided yet or not, you aren’t sure, even as Nami returns and the situation gets worse with Usopp having been beaten by the Franky family and the two hundred million beri being stolen from him. The money didn’t matter, what mattered was Usopp, the rest of your crew going to find him and Luffy but Nami clinging onto you to stay with her, which you do to keep your friend safe.

The rest of the day is a blur, after Usopp is brought back, his fight with Luffy over Merry, and how quickly the rest of you leave to a hotel in the city. Some would probably think it’s strange that you’re holding so tightly to Zoro the whole time, rarely letting go of his arm, but you feel like you need some stability with how things have changed so much in just a day. You all still don’t know where Robin’s gone, you plan to go with Sanji and Chopper later the next day to try and find her.

For now, Zoro doesn’t mind you holding onto and staying by him. He tries to understand, it’s likely you’re thinking back to your parents, having told him of how they’d argue regarding you mostly, Elias being your safe haven who would remove you from the situation for safety.

Part of you doesn’t want to sleep that night, but Zoro makes you, forcing you to lay down. Really you’re worried you’re going to wake up and everything’s been a dream, none of your friends will be there, but Zoro, who you fully are coming to believe can read your mind, pokes you in the forehead before sitting by your bed with his back to you.

“Just sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.”

Every part of you believes him, you’ve got nothing but trust in Zoro.

+!+

With everything that’s happened involving Robin, your crew, Galley-La, and the Franky family, you’re surprised you’re even still on your feet as you follow everyone into Enies Lobby. You’d barely slept the night before and have been awake since early the previous morning, ending up following Sanji to the sea train that was taking Robin from you all. You fight alongside him, Franky, and Usopp, er, Sniper King, to try and reach Robin, only to lose her again in exchange for your own lives.

After the Rocketman train catches up to you and the four of you board it, Nami throws a towel over you since you’re sopping wet from the rain, and you start to draw yourself back from everyone for a few moments. You just need a bit to catch your breath, to keep yourself from crying due to how tired and upset you are. It’s going to be another sleepless night as you listen to everyone try and plan how you’re all going to attack the government island, you want to rescue Robin as soon as possible, even for the selfish reason of being able to sleep properly. Zoro tries to keep you out of the plan discussion, making you sit down and rest as much as you can, giving you water and sending you the slightest of glares if you try to get up too soon.

“Stay there, wife,” he’s quiet while he tells you to stay where you are, trying to keep his slip up of calling you his wife from those who don’t and shouldn’t know, “Rest until we get there. We’ll get Robin back.”

A slight smirk hits your face as you look up at him. “Trust her now?”

Zoro shrugs a bit, leaning on the wall beside you. “I guess. I trust you and Luffy more. But if you don’t rest, it doesn’t matter who I trust.”

Ah, that makes sense, why he’s trying so hard to make you take a break, other than you’re being up for so long now.

You’ll be useless in the fighting if you aren’t as prepared as you can be, if you haven’t had any kind of rest and keep worrying over Robin and everyone else. Even when you get there, convince Robin to let you all rescue her, most of your body wants to give up and stop, but you keep going, keep running to save her with everyone else.

You don’t really mean to get separated from everyone when you go to find the CP9 members who have keys that could open Robin’s sea prism stone cuffs, but it happens and you’re left defending yourself.

A few Marines get a little too close for comfort, but you cut them down fairly quickly, before going the other way from where you came and laughing to yourself at the same time.

I’m starting to take after my husband after all.

+!+

You’ve all returned to Water Seven after rescuing Robin from the government, you’ve maybe given her numerous hugs since even though its only been a couple of hours, and your unfortunate burial of Merry that’d left most of you in tears but all of you heartbroken. So much had happened that you had to step away from everyone for a bit, while there were discussions of what to do next although Luffy had once again fallen asleep from overuse of his powers.

Truthfully you wish you could go to sleep, you’ve been awake for well over twenty-four hours at this point, it would be nice to curl up in a bed and sleep the next several days. Its times like this that make you really wonder if you’re meant to be a pirate, maybe you should just go home and do what your parents want.

“Hey, you okay?”

Then Zoro finds you like always, quietly speaking to keep the others from eavesdropping, though Nami tries, a hand on your shoulder, this time he seems to grip a little tighter than before. You know him well enough at this point, there’s just the slightest hint of worry on his face as he looks at you, brows furrowed just a bit. Zoro knows you just as well, you step away like this when things start to get to be too much, you just need a few moments to clear your head and breathe, and since you’ve had that, you give him a real smile.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you really?”

You nod, Zoro doing the same in return as he knows to believe you, before surprising you by gently taking you face in his hands, as if he’s making absolutely sure that you’re telling the truth.

Having lost track of you while he’d gone on to fight the CP9 members to get Robin’s key, his mind kept wandering to where you’d gotten off to, if you were safe, if you were fighting someone or multiple marines, he really hoped you weren’t against a CP9 member. You had to stay safe, no matter what, you and Robin were his biggest concerns at the time. When you randomly ran into him, Sanji, and Usopp, he was surprised by the relief he felt to see you were a little banged up but otherwise perfectly fine. He’d made you let him carry you on his back the rest of the way, until you got to the ship and were able to safely be on the ground again. He’d barely let you out of his sight since then.

Zoro doesn’t make whatever worry he had about you obvious, only looking like he’s fighting to find something to say while he holds your face and you continue to smile, tilting your head.

“Zoro?”

“Glad you’re okay.”

Giggling a bit, you nod before wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, your exhaustion and the fears and worries you’ve had the last few hours finally coming to surface while you hug Zoro, making him do the same lightly, to keep you from embarrassing yourself in front of the others while you cry quietly, though you know they wouldn’t care or judge you.

You’re glad Robin is back, everyone is safe and alive, you all may have lost Merry but you’re coming to terms with it.

But most importantly to you, Zoro is safe, and to him, you’re safety is just as important, even if he barely voices it. The last thing he wants is for you to be harmed, in anyway by anyone.

He'll be especially damned if it’s by his hand so he comforts you the best he can, until you’re calmed down enough to rejoin your crew, staying beside him.

He doesn’t make you release his hand as you grip onto it, instead squeezing it back whenever you do so. When you lean into his arm later on, he lays his head against your own, telling you to go ahead and sleep, he’ll get you to a bed. You make him promise to stay with you that night, and he does once everyone goes to turn in, not leaving your side for even a second.

He’ll make sure you stay safe.

+!+

Zoro isn't sure how you two ended up away from the rest of the party. Too much alcohol, yes, but his tolerance is higher than a normal person's. He knows better than to wander off like this, but you took him by the wrist and walked away with a new bottle of sake in your hand, convincing him that it would be good to get away from the noise and everyone else.

You don't normally drink as much as he's seen you do today, he wonders if it's the alcohol that's causing you to giggle incessantly and steal glances at him every bit. Not like you had to steal glances, if you two had been talking you'd be looking at him.

But you'd barely said a word apart from when he asked why you were dragging him away from everyone else.

“Just want some quiet time, husband.”

Zoro never stops you from calling him husband, he's not sure why. Your marriage wasn't real, he should stop you from calling him that.

He should, but he never does.

He doesn't now, even as you lean against him and say “my husband” over and over again. It's only the moment you crawl yourself into his lap that he feels the need to stop you, despite knowing you're drunk or at the very least tipsy enough to not know what you're doing.

“Get off.”

He still doesn't push you off, he's not that heartless.

“Nooooo…” You whine and start to nuzzle your face in his neck, sighing happily after a moment. “My husband~”

“Ain't actually your husband, you know that.”

“But you're my husband still.”

“Stop it before someone sees.”

You pout, but lift your head up to look at him. Zoro can tell more so now that you're definitely drunk, you're more emotional than he thought you'd be. He always expected you to be a giggly or chatty drunk, not emotional to the point you're pouting but also looking like you might cry.

“You should...kiss me.”

“What.”

You nod, leaning closer and touching your nose to Zoro's, making him glance away from you just the slightest bit from the proximity despite the bit of pink across his cheeks that you can see. This is the closest you've let yourself get to him ever, even the nights you sneak into his bed from nightmares, you've never placed your face so close to his.

“You didn't kiss me…when we got married.”

“We're not actu–”

“I'll kiss you then.”

You close the gap for the quickest of seconds, kissing Zoro so fast it's like it didn't happen. Despite your drunk state your face burns with a blush and you apologize, you're not sure why you did that. Must've been the alcohol controlling you or something, that's your excuse. You're both quiet but neither of you moves for a moment, before you decide to get up only to have Zoro hold you in place by your shoulders. His brows are furrowed and you're not sure what's going on in his mind, before he pulls you back into a proper kiss, none of this tiny peck of the lips thing you'd just done. He kisses you fully and for more than a brief second, it's several seconds before he pulls away, leaving you both breathless and you personally shocked.

Shocked for just a moment before you take his face in your hands and kiss Zoro a third time, which he returns, surprising you when he wraps his arms around your waist and brings you closer to him (how you could even get closer when you’re already on his lap, you don’t know). You refuse to let him be the one to end this. You don't want this to end, it needs to continue, even if just for you. Even if all it does is make your feelings for him stronger, even if Zoro later tells you it was a mistake and he still held no romantic feelings for you, despite that fact he's so willingly returning such affection.

Even though, a moment later, Zoro pushes you away gently by your shoulders, neither of you able to breathe properly for a moment, catching your breath as your slowly sobering mind tries to play catch up with what the hell just happened.

You kissed Zoro, and he actually kissed you back. He didn't shove you off or yell at you or anything like that. He accepted it and reciprocated without a single word. You figured he would fight you about this, that he wouldn't accept it so easily.

Is this the progress you've been hoping for?

Once you've both caught your breath, Zoro doesn't even look at you, instead moves just enough that you get the hint and get off his lap finally. It's a few minutes of complete silence between the two of you, that has you confused. You thought things were changing, that you two were getting closer than you had been even before Luffy brought you along.

The fact he'd just kissed you back for several minutes it felt like, you thought maybe Zoro was going to confess to you, but when he still doesn't look at you, you attempt to bring him back by taking his hand, which he lets you for a moment before gently pulling his arm back to himself.

“Zoro…I…I'm sor–”

“I think…you should go to bed, [Y/N].”

“Do you,” you gulp a bit, looking away before you finish, “do you want to come with me?”

“No. That's not a good idea.”

You know this, who knows what trouble you'd bring to yourselves or the crew if you two went to your room together? Whose heart would be broken the next morning if you took things too far when you weren't fully sober? You didn't know, the thought of either of you being hurt made your heart ache and you couldn't bear the thought.

So, instead of trying to convince him things would be fine, you really just wanted to sleep with him next to you, you nod, standing up and dusting yourself off, grabbing the bottle you'd brought with you and looking at Zoro again.

“Are you–”

“Gonna stay here for a bit.”

It's all you can do to nod again, apologizing for pushing things too far before you turn and leave, doing your absolute best to keep your tears to yourself as you return to the party, giving Nami a small smile when she asks where you've been, promising her you'd just gone off to spend some time alone.

She doesn't believe you and intends to get all the information she can later, but she does give you a hug that nearly pushes you over, and says she'll beat up whoever made you sad, especially if it's Zoro, earning her a laugh before you return to your room at the hotel.

I wish he had come with me…

Truthfully you don't regret kissing Zoro, not even a bit. Despite his rejection of your feelings, the fact he so willingly kissed you back made you believe that maybe things were changing in your favor.

Perhaps it was because he was drunk, or maybe he was sober enough that he knew exactly what he was doing, especially when he denied returning to your room with you.

Either way, even with your heart aching from another rejection, it feels like you're making progress with Zoro and your relationship with him, little by little.

For his part of it all, Zoro stays in the same place you'd left him for nearly an hour, trying to calm his own racing heart after that exchange with you.

How he never thought of kissing you before, but now he didn't want to do anything but kiss you (it's the alcohol talking, he swears it is). You tasted like the sake you'd shared and whatever sweet wine Nami had convinced you to take several drinks of. A combination he never expected to be so nice, something he didn't think he'd want to taste again. The moment he thinks about it again his heart skips a beat, and Zoro puts head in his hands in an attempt to stop such feelings.

No, no, shit I gotta stop this.

He sighs and runs his hands through his hair, pulling it slightly to get those thoughts out of his head. Any focus on romance, on you he wanted out of his head. There's been too much of it lately, the want to stay close to you, to pull you away from everyone else, to give in and indulge himself in you alone. He'd told you nothing was going to happen and he had meant it.

But then you had to go and kiss him. The most innocent of kisses, a quick peck on the lips but he'd gone and pulled you back for more almost instantly. Then you made it worse by returning it again and holding his face this time, he didn't know why he enjoyed that so much. This whole thing was ridiculous, there's no reason for these feelings!

The only thing he could do to get some time to think was to push you away, refuse to join you when you went to bed. Who knows what would've happened if he had gone with you? Of course, he knew your thoughts were innocent, you'd shared a bed multiple times when you turned to him after nightmares, it was highly unlikely you were expecting anything more than to just go to sleep and wake up with a hangover, Zoro by your side in case of alcohol induced nightmares.

And he had made you go to bed alone.

That realization, for some reason, causes his heart to ache and Zoro has to finally admit what he's been trying not to, over the last several months, even with the more domestic thoughts he's allowed himself to entertain at times. Something he was hoping would fade away, would disappear over time like it always did for others, the feelings he's finally realized were going to be more long term than he expected.

Damn it all…I'm falling for my wife.

+!+

Contrary to what many may think, Sanji doesn’t particularly like being privy to romance gossip, not the kind involving his crewmates especially. He thinks that such things should be kept between a couple, so when he accidentally hears you telling Nami and Robin how you and Zoro finally kissed the other night, he’s less than pleased to hear it ended with your swordsman pushing you back, not taking you back to your room, or even staying with you for the night.

How unbelievably rude of him! To steal your first kiss, and not even walk you back to your room!

That’s what Sanji would’ve done. If any woman kissed him, he’d walk her back to her room or home, at the very least, to ensure she was safe and nothing happened. Zoro not doing that, when you were inebriated, when you could’ve been hurt or worse, it angers Sanji more than anything Zoro has or hasn’t done thus far. He views you as his best friend, he hates the way you and Zoro seem to get closer to a real relationship, only for something to happen or someone to intervene and ruin your progress. He’s been cheering for you from the start, ever since you confirmed your feelings for the swordsman, only to now wonder if it’s worth it for you.

If Zoro really is what you want and makes you happy, why does it seem like all you do lately is suffer?

Sanji doesn’t fully mean to give Zoro the cold shoulder this time, or even the suspicious looks he throws at him, but Zoro noticed quickly, before anyone else, and confronts him.

“What the hell is your problem, cook?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit, you’ve been giving me worse looks than normal.”

Sanji bites down on his cigarette, finally dropping the knife he’d been holding to face Zoro with a scowl.

“I heard you and [Y/N] kissed the other night—”

“Damn it.”

“—and you didn’t bother to take her back to her room?”

“What, is that my job now?”

“As her husband it should be!”

“I’m not really her husband! Damn it, this is stupid.”

Zoro goes to leave, but Sanji stops him by grabbing his sleeve, holding on and telling him to stop.

“Look, asshole. I could care less that you two are married, real or not, or that you kissed her,” Sanji grits his teeth, finally letting go of Zoro’s sleeve, “But if you break her heart, I’ll never forgive you, mosshead.”

While Sanji turns back to continue prepping for dinner, Zoro stops for just a moment. The two have had fights before, that’s obvious to anyone with a brain, but they’ve yet to fight about you. And he wonders why it's only now, after you kissed him, that Sanji seems so hell bent on protecting you, or maybe he's always been like this, it's just more on display as you and Zoro start to get closer.

“What’s your deal with her?”

“She’s my best friend, mosshead. I just want her safe and happy, even if it’s with you.”

He doesn’t say anything in response, leaving the kitchen to find you lounging with Nami and Robin, the three of you in some conversation when you look up and see him, giving a slight smile that Zoro returns with a nod, before heading off to the crow’s nest. What Sanji last said is stuck in his head, partially wondering if you told your cook what happened that night in Water Seven or if he was good at guessing, but that’s not the biggest thing he wonders about.

Would you really be happy with me, of all people, [Y/N]?

+!+

“All right, wait, so, you honestly kissed him?”

“Nami don't make me repeat myself.”

Nami laughs while Robin smiles, both amazed you got up the courage to kiss Zoro of all people. Yeah, you were tipsy at the time, even though Zoro still believes you were fully intoxicated, but you couldn't help feeling bad about it afterwards, just for a bit.

“I didn't fully think it through. I just…I don't know, I wanted to kiss him so I did.”

“I don't think he's too upset about it then,” Robin nods a bit, taking a sip of her wine, “You said he kissed you back, if he didn't push you away right off the bat, it sounds like he was positively receptive to it.”

“Yeah,” Nami quickly agrees, giving you a grin, “Sounds like you're getting yourself a boyfriend.”

“I don't think he wants that.”

“Well, what do you want? Maybe you guys could talk it through.”

What did you want? You thought you knew, to be a world renowned swordswoman, to help Luffy become King of the Pirates.

But what did you want from Zoro? Just to be with him, to stay married to him? Do you want to maybe have a family of your own with him one day? You'd had those thoughts when your feelings first started surfacing, after your impromptu wedding at that backwater courthouse. You'd stopped entertaining  thoughts for quite a while, but now, they're coming back more often.

More importantly, does Zoro want any of that with you?

“I…think… I want to be with him forever…”

Hearing Nami choke on her own drink, you give her a concerned look before she looks at you with wide eyes.

“You sound like you're in love with Zoro!”

You don't say anything for a bit, even with Nami and Robin looking at you like they're expecting you to deny such a thing. There was no way you were in love with Zoro, not at all. You two hadn't dated, your marriage was only temporary, it was meant to end as soon as you had something from your parents. You two weren't going to last forever, you weren't going to have kids together, live out your lives as a married couple. It wasn't happening.

No matter how much you may want it to. That's what Nami and Robin have come to think over time, from the things you've said to them.

“I am, Nami.”

Despite Nami's new outburst and saying she knew it with Robin laughing, you don't feel any kind of worry or fear about admitting your real feelings for Zoro. Neither of them would tell, your secret was safe as could be.

But for you, all you do is smile to yourself.

You love Zoro, more than anything. You've thought so for a while now, but finally voicing it aloud gives you a sense of peace and happiness. Whether Zoro ever returns your feelings or not, whether you two come to act as a married couple or not, you're more than happy to even stay by his side as his crewmate and friend. Even if you have to love him silently, you'd do so.

You'll hope he comes to love you back one day, but you won't force anything on him.

“I'm in love with Zoro.”

~~

Note 2: Me writing this: now KISS.

After writing: omg they kissed

[enkas-illusion]

Under The Mistletoe

Fandom / Pairing: Attack On Titan / Eren x f!reader

Rating: SFW / Fluff

Genre/Theme: Friends to lovers; non-titan au

Content warning: fluff, teasing, language.

Summary: A series of unfortunate events that lead up to a memorable Christmas Eve at the Jaegers’ house with your close friends.

Author's Note: Hello, here’s a short fluffy friend to lovers one-shot with my fav 2D man. Merry Christmas! Thank you for reading <3

~ Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Mistletoe by Justin Bieber

“Yo, you home?” you speak into your phone’s speaker without waiting for a greeting from his end.

“Yes…?” Eren answers.

“Busy?”

“Nope.”

“K. Come to my place.”

“Cool,” he cuts the call. You place your phone on the sofa before moving the mess, that would soon transform into your Christmas decorations, out of the way. As you clear the floor of all the stray pieces and tiny ornaments, you place the tiny chair near the tall tree in your living room while waiting for your best friend’s arrival.

You hear the doorbell ring about 15 minutes later and rush to open it. You greet Eren with a wide grin as you move to the side to let him in. He takes off his shoes near the door as he enters the living room.

“So, what do you need me for, madam?” He asks as he takes off his mufflers and scarf, tossing them on the sofa.

“Ouch… do you think so little of me to assume I only call you over when I need something from you?” you fake gasp.

“If you have to ask, you already know the answer dummy,” he pinches your nose before walking to the undecorated tree, deciphering the reason you’d called him over. “For this? You’re far better than I am at this arts and crafts shit.”

“Well, I cannot reach the top even with the tallest chair I own… call it the perks of being the taller friend, I’ll always think of you for such things,” you smile at him before blowing him a dramatic kiss.

“Sure,” he rolls his eyes as you lean down to the tree to start with the bottom half of the decorations. Eren sits next to you, playing with one of the tiny red stockings he picks up, “A friend in need is a friend indeed.”

“A best friend who makes cinnamon rolls cause she knows how much you love them is a friend indeed,” you try to imitate his voice, resulting in a terrible imitation.

His ears perk up at your comment nonetheless, completely ignoring the teasing tone and only focusing on what really matters.

“Did you really?!” he asks, excited like a puppy when he hears someone say ‘treat’. 

“Yes… There's still about 10 minutes left though. It’s in the oven,” you say as you point to the tree, “So you should probably hurry up.” 

“What a meanie!” he huffs as he fiddles with the ornaments, decorating them on the tree. You laugh as you begin working on the other side at a quicker pace than he does.

A few moments pass by before you hear his voice again, “This tree is so unnecessarily tall… You know, mum said you could just come to our house to celebrate the holidays when I told her you couldn’t go home because of work.”

“That’s so sweet of her… but I still wanted my apartment to look like it’s the holiday season. If I can’t go home this year, the least I can do is recreate some of the warmth and Christmas feels here.”

“Awww, is that why you called me? Cause I’m the star that lights up your whole world?” he says as he holds the golden ornament over his head.

“Not sure about my world but definitely my Christmas tree,” you tease as you check the time. You get up to walk to the kitchen as Eren fixes the chair closer to the tree.

“Only tolerating your bullshit for the rolls by the way…” you hear him complain behind you. You put the oven mitt on as you pull out the batch of fresh cinnamon rolls. You carefully place the pan on the counter, evenly pouring the sugar syrup over the buns.

Your body jerks involuntarily when you hear a loud shriek from the living room. Your heartbeat picks up pace erratically as you run out the kitchen to see what had happened. You find Eren lying on the floor, his right hand holding his left forearm tightly. He writhes in pain when he tries to move his left wrist.

“Ren, what happened?” you panic as you run to his side as you help him stand up. He doesn’t need to explain however – you see the chair with a broken leg lying next to the tree.

“Ugh– Careful,” he hisses as you try to help him straighten his wrist.

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea the chair would break… does it hurt a lot, I’m so so sorry Eren, if I knew I wouldn’t have asked–” your shaky voice breaks, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I’d rather have me fall from a broken chair than you,” he gives you half a smile but it’s so sincere that it makes you want to cry even more.

“Let me get the first-aid kit,” you sniffle but before you can rush to get the kit, Eren rests his right hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

“Get the car keys instead, I think I’m gonna need a little bit stronger than pain relief spray,” he says calmly. On the inside, he’s freaking out, but he doesn’t let it show since he did not want you to panic even further.

Your expressions distort to the point where it looks like you’re in more agony than the man who just fell from a chair. You nod frantically as you go to grab your keys before hurrying out the door to get him to a hospital.

~~~

“Sign it,” he says as he sees you walking into the hospital room where the nurse is fixing a cast around his forearm and wrist, “after all, the artist needs to sign their artwork.”

Eren shows little to no signs of discomfort and you wonder if he’s a psychopath or it’s simply the painkillers working. You open the water bottle before handing it to him as you give another apologetic look – the hundredth one in the last hour since the accident.

“I’m kidding! I’m all good!” He reassures you as he raises the arm up once the nurse is done fixing the cast.

“It’s better to rest for at least 6 weeks if you want to heal properly,” the nurse interjects plainly.

“That long? It’s just a hairline fracture right?” he asks her, confused.

“You still need proper rest Eren!” you scold him as you take his phone, the bag of medicines and water bottle in your hands, not wanting him to carry anything at all.

“I’m fine! This is nothing!” he chuckles, cupping your cheek with his free hand to reassure you. You bring your hand up to his, pulling it away before intertwining your fingers with his.

“Is that all?” you ask the nurse with concern and she nods. “Thank you,” you sigh as you lead Eren out the room.

“The bill?” he asks as you walk out the hallway.

“Paid it already,” you reply.

“I’ll pay you back later, yeah?”  he says as you get to the car.

“No, don’t. It’s my fault...” you murmur timidly as you drop his hand to open the door for him.

“Hey… it’s not. I love how much you care about me but please don’t worry so much,” he speaks, holding your hand once again, squeezing it gently.

“But I feel so bad,” you pout as you move your fingers lightly over his cast with your other hand before looking up at him with sadness in your eyes.

He headbutts you playfully, causing you to finally laugh as he says softly, “Give me all the cinnamon rolls and we’ll call it even.”

~~~

Eren wasn’t kidding about the cinnamon rolls – especially now that he had the golden ticket to get you to make as many as he wanted. Usually, you’d only make it occasionally or if he was upset with you after some silly argument and you wanted to suggest a truce temporarily.

So when you arrive at his place in the afternoon, with a container that doesn’t have any cinnamon rolls, 3 days later on Christmas eve, he acts like a bratty child who had been denied his favourite treat.

“Eren! This soup’s better for you. I’m not gonna let you binge on another whole batch of cinnamon rolls!” you speak sternly. 

“I don’t recall asking for healthy shit. My mood’s craving cinnamon rolls!” Eren slaps his right hand on the table exaggeratedly.

“I cannot believe how childish you’re being. Where’s your mum? She’ll support me…” you shake your head.

“Carla’s out shopping for presents. I’m afraid you’re going to have to deal with him on your own,” you hear a voice and turn your head to look at Eren’s father entering the house.

The crease on your forehead that had formed while talking to Eren melts away when you greet his father, “Mr. Jaeger, good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon. Is my son bothering you too much?” he asks and you see Eren turn red out of embarrassment.

“Not at all,” you chuckle, “There’s no tantrum of his that I can’t handle.”

“Good. I assume you’re staying for dinner, yes?” Grisha asks politely.

“Yes. So are Mikasa and Armin, they might arrive anytime soon,” you reply, the polite smile fixed on your face. 

“Great!” He nods before turning to scold his son, “Eren, don’t trouble the poor girl.” 

Eren shakes his head before his father excuses himself to get to his room, leaving the two of you alone again.

“Poor girl? You’re so creepily formal with my parents. They think you’re the model child and I'm the one who corrupts you… even after all these years!” he snorts.

“Well… I am innocent,” you bat your eyelashes at him, “You’re the devil here.”

He rolls his eyes at you before leaning forward and opening his mouth, motioning you to feed him the soup.

“Your right hand’s fine! Drink it yourself.”

“This is the least you can do,” he says with puppy eyes, waving his cast up in front of your face.

“Ugh… fineee,” you take the spoon, blowing on the hot soup gently before feeding it to him.

When Armin and Mikasa arrive about an hour later, Eren goes into heavy, exaggerated details while telling the two about how he got the injury. 

“... And then this one cried like a baby… more than I did,” he jokes, pointing your way.

“I was actually crying that my favourite chair of all time broke,” you shoot back dryly.

“Lies, you guys know she’s in denial about how much she loves me, right…? Anyway, the doc said it’ll be another 3 months at least before I’m healed completely.”

“What a drama queen, you’ll be fine in a month’s time!” you narrow your eyes at him.

“You guys bicker like an old married couple,” Armin notes and Mikasa nods in agreement. You’re pretty sure he’s teasing you too but he doesn’t follow it up with a laugh as if it's a serious statement, making you blush awkwardly as you try to avoid Eren’s gaze actively. 

Despite Eren constantly teasing you throughout the night, it’s a peaceful celebration nonetheless. When Grisha and Carla retire to their bedroom after wishing your group ‘a jolly Christmas’ shortly after midnight strikes, the four of you gather around in the living room to exchange your secret santa gifts.

When you get a new set of oven mitts, a mini speaker and a perfume you’d been waiting to be restocked since forever with a note that read ‘Couldn’t decide which one was the best option so consider yourself lucky to get a genie like myself’, you jump up to give Eren a big hug while being careful not to bump into his wrist.

“Was it that obvious?’ he laughs.

“We never could’ve figured out the perfume one,” Mikasa giggles. Your eyes meet Eren’s and you feel your heart skip a beat as you eyes stray to his plump lips for a split second – brushing away the very inappropriate thought you just had about your best friend.

You quickly move away as you change the topic and get Mikasa and Armin to open their gifts. It’s obvious they got each other based on the gifts they'd received.

Eren is the last to open his mystery present. You feel nervous, suddenly second-guessing your entire decision. However, it dissolves just as soon as it arrives when you see Eren’s jaw drop at your gift.

“Holy shit! This might as well be the best gift I’ve received in a while,” his eyes gleam at the signed manga copy by his favourite mangaka Hajime Isayama. 

“It better be! Took a lot of eff–” you smack your hand over your mouth mid-sentence at spoiling your own identity as his secret santa.

He smiles softly, hugging you as he teases, “Thanks Sherlock, it would’ve been so hard to figure out who it was!”

“Oh wait a min–,” you look around the sofa to find the other package you’d gotten him. You leave his side to get the tiny gift, handing it to him with a playful grin. He raises an eyebrow at you as he unwraps it. He lets out a chuckle when he pulls out the tiny cinnamon roll crochet plushie and bursts out laughing when he reads your note with it – ‘This should last you a long time, stop asking me for another batch already!’ 

“Never,” he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in tighter as you stumble in place, feeling the vibrations of his torso caused by his laughter. He gives you a quick peck on the top of your ear before letting go, your skin tingling with warmth at the gesture.

“Oh! Before I forget… mum knitted sweaters for all of you guys,” Eren grins proudly. All three of you basically pounce on Eren excitedly when he returns with the sweaters in one hand.

He hands you yours the last and it's your favourite colour. “Told mum to use that specifically,” he confesses, half-whispering so that only you can hear him. 

You bite your lip and lower your head to keep yourself from smiling too hard. It's moments like these that have you feeling as if the platonic line in your friendship gets tangled with the romantic one.

Eren Jaeger could bully you to death, within his rights as your best friend, but then he'll randomly do something so sweet that it makes you awfully aware of the growing crush you have on him.

“Thank you,” you smile when you look up and your eyes meet. Eren believes that this smile could be the only thing to melt him if he were a block of ice. 

At that moment, he wants nothing more than to squeeze your stupid face and kiss you to his heart's content. He feels a pang in his chest – the intense desire of his crush on you fighting against the rational part of his brain not wanting to spoil your friendship.

When you suggest watching a random Christmas movie, everyone cuddles together on the sofa like birds do on a cold morning. You don't remember most of it since you fall asleep halfway through the first movie itself. Since you fell asleep with your head on Eren's lap, he didn't dare move till the morning – he gladly accepted his fate as your pillow. 

Maybe it was something in the air urging him to do something but when he saw the way you peacefully rested on him, he felt an intense need of wanting to protect and cherish you forever. Right there, he made his decision – he was going to confess his feelings to you. His love deserved a fair shot. Besides, he figured he'd simply call it a joke and move on if things didn't go his way.

~~~

Your slumber breaks when you hear soft whispers calling out your name. You feel the shuffling movement of your head being lifted up before being placed back down on a soft surface.

“Hmm?” You speak groggily as you sit up, rubbing your eyes as you sense Eren walking away. You check your phone and it’s just quarter to 5 in the morning. You're about to go back to sleep when you hear his voice again, along with footsteps pacing around from one end of the hallway to the other.

“Come here,” you hear Eren’s voice beckoning you from the passage leading up to his room. You want to go back to sleep but get up despite it when you remember he has a broken wrist and might need your help with something. You quietly tip-top to follow his voice, not wanting to wake up your other two friends who are splayed over the sofa, still deep asleep.

“Hey, what's up?” You speak softly when you look around in the dim light of his room to find him. You turn around when you hear the door close behind you.

“Merry Christmas,” Eren grins, standing just a foot away from you, holding a badly plucked green branch tied with a red ribbon over your heads with his free hand. 

“Merry Christmas– what's that?” you mumble as your eyes fix on his hand to observe it closely. It's a Mistletoe – your eyebrows furrow as you look down to his face, expecting an explanation to be written over it.

You feel your heartbeat picking up its pace against your chest. You know what this means yet you can’t believe it entirely. You don't want to make a fool out of yourself by assuming something only for it to be one of his stupid pranks.

You think he's about to headbutt you like he usually does, but he catches you by surprise when he simply rests his forehead against yours.

“You know what this means?” he breathes as he brings his hand down to hold the mistletoe in the space between your bodies. 

This is it! He's asking you to kiss him!!!

Still wanting to play it safe, despite his blatant hints, you nod your head as you speak, “This means I give you a bone-crushing hug.”

His eyes narrow at you as he pulls back, “No… what a chicken. Kiss me.”

Your heart flutters, yet you try to play it cool and tease him further, “What a baby.”

You wrap your hand around his neck to pull his face down to your level. He obliges and you place two fingers to his chin to turn his face to the side. You lean in to kiss him on his left cheek. 

He lets out a soft chuckle as he imitates you, kissing you on your left cheek in return. You giggle as you give him another peck on his right cheek next, resulting in him repeating you once again.

Then comes the forehead and you have to stand on your toes to do it. He leans down to kiss your forehead, you're pretty sure he was about to joke about it but he doesn’t break the intensity of the moment.

Your heart feels like it's almost about to burst out of your chest when you kiss the tip of his nose, followed by his chin, giggling nervously.

You close your eyes in anticipation, expecting the touch of his lips on the same spots on your face but it never arrives. Instead, your breathing halts abruptly when you feel his lips land on your lips.

You pull back quickly and open your eyes to scan his face for any signs of mischief. Instead you’re met with the softest expression, displaying nothing but a kind adoration for you. He brings your hand up to place it on his cheek, smiling at you, encouraging you to dare. 

Without wasting another second, you cup his face with both your hands as you pull him down for a kiss. He smiles into the kiss and you close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips moving against yours.

Your legs feel giddy and your thoughts feel intoxicated by Eren’s sweet caresses. His free hand is wrapped around your waist firmly and even as you kiss him, you’re cautious about his cast, trying not to accidentally touch his left arm.

You pull away from his touch hastily when you hear the doorknob twist. You both stand next to each other, staring at Armin with a half-perplexed and half-embarrassed look on your face.

“I can’t seem to fi– oh,” he stops when he looks at both of your faces, his half-lidded sleepy eyes suddenly alert. Armin has always been a smart guy – which right about now is making you and Eren look like two deers caught in headlights. 

Armin raises his eyebrows, the grin on his face growing wider. “Don’t forget to lock the door,” he mumbles as he simply turns back around before closing the door behind him, leaving you and Eren alone once again.

Eren’s quick to lock the door before turning around to lean against it, signalling you to come closer with the motion of his fingers. You roll your eyes but follow him regardless, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your face on his chest. 

Your hand moves to his pec, feeling around for his heartbeat before resting it there completely. You close your eyes and you soak into the warmth of his body as your best friend/lover places soft kisses on the top of your head. 

Your heart flutters again, filled with happiness to the brim, making you wish you could trap time in a bottle to seal this moment with you forever.

~fin~