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#THIS + forced proximity. yes????
lowkeyren · 16 days
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imagine enemies to lovers with aventurine…
as the waltz begins, you reluctantly place your hand in his outstretched one; his honeying eyes, always so keen and calculating, now holds a spark of amusement as he meets your gaze. he spins you gracefully across the floor, his smile widens as he feels the dagger strapped to your thigh press against his leg. his grip on your waist tightens, pulling you closer, and leaning down, his breath warm against your ear.
“is this a surprise for me?”, his voice a low murmur that sends a shiver down your spine.
“maybe.” you try to keep your tone cool but it’s getting harder to breathe with the heat of his body so close to yours. "at least wait ‘til the song ends, love." he raises an eyebrow seemingly challenging you, you roll your eyes in response. he’s annoying, ugh when will this end already. 
as the night comes to an end, he releases you from his grasp, executing a bow with his eyes still locked onto yours. you curtsey in return, the intensity of his gaze weighing on you as you straighten up.
he brings your hand to his lips, the touch of his kiss a brief, searing contact. “until next time”, his words carrying both promise and threat. by the time you return to your senses, he has already disappeared into the crowd.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
update: full fic here masterlist
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Ok but like, what if Aerin teaches us shadow magic?🤔
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1hot-mess-express1 · 2 months
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Having an insane brain rotting itch
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shortmexicangirl · 10 months
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spy!feligami au... hmm much to think about
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darsynia · 7 months
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The heart wants what it wants...
Gosh, so I've been writing for a nearly 30 year old fandom, the book/tv show Christy. I was a huge Kellie Martin fan from Life Goes On, and I'd liked the book (evangelical childhood go brrr)-- lemme tell you, Scottish-voiced older smart gruff man & idealistic kind resourceful opinionated young woman will ALWAYS get me. Add LeVar Burton and Tyne Daly and I'm HOOKED. OH I forgot to mention it's set in the Great Smokies and the vistas are magnificent (TWW reference says hi).
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Well, the show itself has a religious scaffolding, and it's pretty wholesome, so though the series manages some truly intense unresolved sexual tension, I should refrain from getting too racy in this 'it was a crime to never show these two kissing' 'shipping Neil/Christy for 30 years does something to a person' story, right? RIGHT?
Me: I'll write a brief satisfying M encounter
Me now: he's soaked after checking for a fire in a thunderstorm and she's slowly unbuttoning him while he loses his mind OOPS
Anyway, I'm putting the finishing touches on Shipping chapter 3, but if you ever watched this show or might be interested in a period piece where two people with hidden feelings find themselves married and figuring out what fun that can be, feel free to check out that story! It's got a tiny online presence (under 200 fics on FFN, my fic was #7 on AO3) so I probably won't post again about it, but I'm very pleased by what I've written.
Breathing Fire
Summary: After an unexpected standoff puts Christy in a compromised position, she discovers what a marriage based on love and friendship is really like. With that firm basis, she seeks to heal the wounds that were caused before she even arrived in Cutter Gap.
For fun, here's an excerpt under the jump:
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Note: Set the day after the wedding, but their 'wedding night' was interrupted; Neil is a doctor and he was called away for a medical emergency. He hasn't gotten much sleep as a result.
When she woke next it was thanks to the bright indirect sunlight from the window. She’d slept in.
Christy threw herself out of bed, spluttering her hair out of her face as she rushed over to the dresser to grab something to wear.
“Christy,” Neil rumbled from the bed. He had his arm draped over his eyes.
“I’m late for school!”
“You’re not.”
“No, I am! Miss Alice was supposed to take my place, but she was with you.” She supposed she could dress on the other side of the closet door, or at the top of the stairs with the bedroom door closed. When she turned around with a handful of underthings, meaning to race over to the closet and do just that, she ran right into Neil.
“Grantland got back yesterday evening, he’s teaching your students today,” he said, tugging the clothes from her hands to set them on top of the dresser. “Back to bed,” he said, guiding her back with an arm around her shoulders.
Sleepy Neil was a charming mix of impatience and determination.
“But David has no idea where the lesson plans are!”
“He’ll probably spend the whole day sermonizing at them,” he said once they got over to the bed. Neil then yawned so hard he stumbled sideways before shuffling around to the other side.
Christy sat, her sense of purpose deflated. “Is there anything you were supposed to do this morning that I can do instead? Dropping by a patient’s house, or picking up supplies?”
“No one will expect us for days,” he told her, rubbing at his eye with a knuckle. “We’re meant to spend them enjoying each other, which right now should mean you, sleeping next to me, in silence.” There was a daring sort of tease to his voice that sent a thrill through her. How was she meant to sleep after he said something like that? 
“I’m wide awake. How about I go downstairs and--”
“Don’t,” Neil blurted. He took in a breath to say something, then chuckled. “Not sure how well I’d sleep knowing you were down there rearranging everything.”
“Meaning you’d sleep better if I stayed up here?” Christy guessed.
His expression sobered, and he rolled onto his back. “I keep expecting to wake up and find all of this was a dream.”
If she were braver, she would have told him about her dreams of him, but instead, she said, “How about I go get a book to read, so I can sit up beside you, while you sleep? I can pull the curtains shut.” 
His nod was relieved, and Christy got up, thinking hard to remember where she’d packed her book. It wasn’t with the others, since she’d been reading it a little each night. A glance over at her husband told her he was still ruminating.
“Ask me what I’m reading,” Christy said, crouching down to rummage through the front pocket of one suitcase.
“What?”
“It’s part of distracting you while I look for my book,” she told him. Standing, she put her hands on her hips. Was it downstairs?
“Fine,” Neil said, his voice still sleepy, but more like his confident self. “What are you reading?”
“Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott. It’s a story about four sisters, all very different, and how each of them handle the process of growing up. I loved it when I was younger, and now I’m rereading it to pick out parts to share with the children.” As she spoke, she found the book, drew the curtain, then came back to briskly set things up to sit comfortably beside him.
“You’re an excellent teacher, Christy.”
Praise from him really was worth a hundred kind words from anyone else.
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atsoomi · 10 months
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I WAS ASLEEP iwaizumi takes the cake as per usual
Knight/princess dynamic + forced proximity
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rudjedet · 2 years
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“First the king, now the vizier, and the general who did his best impression of a leech -- the only one she still missed in her game of quartets of administrative elite, was Senwosret.”
Sometimes the reason I don’t make any headway in my writing is that I’ll write a line like the above and snicker at it for ten minutes because I already know she’s going to meet Senwosret in 1.5 chapters
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coldvampire · 6 months
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i think it’s time for another social break.
#to be clear this isn’t in relation to current events#it’s just about my personal life.#I’m back stuck in that cycle where I feel like I don’t have friends > I lose energy and motivation to socialize#& seeing stuff w other people who are Not in that cycle makes it. so much worse. lol.#yes yes hypocrite moment I know I’m also busy I know adult life makes it hard etc etc I’m still going to feel#emotions about it.#idk as much as I say living near people would be ideal for happy surface reasons truthfully I think if I’m not in someone line of sight#I get forgotten#like roommates are great (sometimes) bc forced proximity means there’s something built in#I say plural bc I also know you need to rotate socially. better for everyone involved.#like idk. I don’t know how to stop feeling this way or how to break out of it#and getting my ass away from social media is really the only way I know to stop me from getting Extremely hurt and jealous lmao#I’m bad at maintaining connection after a while and I think bc at the start of friendships I usually Do have the energy to be the ‘starter’#or planner or w/e when I start to wane a bit it goes unnoticed. so it’s back into the cycle. and I’m not sure if this will ever stop being#a thing for me? also I can’t blame anyone for seeing that and Not wanting to reach out bc like. why would you#as great as I can be short term I don’t feel like I’m worth the trouble once I pass a certain ‘expiration date’#so as much as I’d want to be more mad about it I can’t really be bc I Get It. I do. but it’s still depressing.#it’s so stupid of me really bc I do this ridiculous thing where I’ll Light Up when I feel like someone’s interested bc it’s nice!#its a nice feeling! so naturally it’ll make me perk up a bit more even if I’m feeling otherwise low#and it doesn’t take much so maybe I’m giving the impression I take effort? idk I know I can be skittish at first. I don’t want to come on#strong or annoying. (we’re all annoying kill the cringe etc etc but if you want friends you need to sync up at least)#but maybe that’s off putting?? I don’t know. I’m out of ideas on how to be.#I haven’t even had the energy to make content or really even think about my characters bc it feels like there’s no point. sometimes in the#past I could at least rely on that a bit to be a sort of bridge to reach out to people with but I just don’t feel like I’m able to.#the posts I made just steadily got less and less interest over the spring and summer and I always felt like#in servers I’d just suck the air out of the room bc people felt polite but uninterested.#everyone else was also able to move past and be friends outside of that and I just never could manage even over multiple years sometimes#and over time that’s just weighed on me a lot. no matter where I go I always end up feeling like I’m supposed to be temporary#social filler. how do you end up meeting people when it just constantly recoil from your efforts?#being weird isn’t as fun when it’s the Wrong Kind.
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emsuemsu · 7 months
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Polar Night/Midnight Sun by toomuchplor
Words: 54,313
Harry travels to arctic Norway on the trail of dragon egg poachers, only to find he's been assigned to work alongside the only NorMagPol Auror north of sixty: one Draco Malfoy. It's been ten years since they crossed paths, and Malfoy isn't exactly what Harry expected or remembered. For one thing, he wears a lot more hand-knits?
When a sudden winter storm strands the pair, unable to use magic to rescue themselves, they take shelter in a one-room Norwegian hytte.
I'm such a sucker for these fics that take place up here in the north. Norway, Sweden or my beloved motherland Finland. And even though I'm not from the north north I still felt every word in my core. This is such a sweet little story with just the right ratio of smut to fluff to angst to action. And forced proximity always hits the right spot for me. And the dogs 🥺 And Teddy 🥺 all in all a lovely, vibe-y fic.
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foreverdolly · 3 months
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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』
summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.
warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)
word count: 5.3k
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The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed. 
“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before. 
“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother. 
Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious. 
“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.” 
There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger. 
“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.
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Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early. 
Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast. 
“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free. 
You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie. 
“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home. 
Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. 
What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals. 
Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries. 
‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed. 
“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience. 
He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you. 
“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress. 
“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind. 
You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand. 
“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you. 
“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.” 
Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling. 
“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you. 
Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door. 
The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead. 
“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you. 
“As they have been taught, your reverence.” 
In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years. 
Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down. 
“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.” 
For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.
“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection. 
“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.
“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you. 
“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful. 
“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before. 
“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door. 
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“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you. 
Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face. 
“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you. 
Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins. 
“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?” 
You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one. 
“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down. 
“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting. 
It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat. 
“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction. 
It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight. 
You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep. 
“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 
The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head. 
“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.” 
The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room. 
“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen. 
Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful.  “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”
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Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime. 
It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different? 
Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different. 
“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew. 
Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with. 
Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing. 
“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap. 
He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively. 
Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face. 
“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke. 
Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.
“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.” 
Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for. 
“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly. 
You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul. 
But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted. 
“Soon.” 
You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up. 
You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation. 
You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly. 
He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent. 
The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better. 
You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right. 
You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach. 
“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence. 
Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive. 
But god, you wanted to live. 
Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer. 
‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides. 
As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front. 
You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression. 
“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view. 
Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability. 
Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd. 
He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime. 
He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago. 
You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you. 
“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?” 
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You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes. 
“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side. 
Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements. 
The two of you were communicating. 
“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?” 
His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you. 
It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days. 
In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child. 
Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him.  He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.
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I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. 
The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress. 
You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in. 
You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother. 
“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 
You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it. 
“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of. 
“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves. 
Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position. 
His tone felt off, like he was toying with you. 
“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin. 
You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this. 
You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime. 
“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge. 
This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.  
“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?” 
“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter. 
“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing. 
“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.” 
It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame. 
“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir. 
“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.” 
Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough. 
“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?” 
“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before. 
A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed. 
This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain. 
“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover. 
The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer. 
“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.
The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying. 
Animal, indeed. 
I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. 
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A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!
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poohsources · 19 days
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🐝  *  ―  𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷𝑷𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻.
send 🚢 or ( 'SHIP' ) if you ever considered shipping our characters romantically and want me to fill out the following form for our muses. bold all that definitely applies, italicize what could potentially apply. feel free to add more if you think certain options are missing or you just want to add more.
do i ship our characters together?: yes | no | not yet but maybe soon
would i like to ship with you?: yes | maybe, i'm willing to try | no
type of relationship i could see: childhood or high school sweethearts | exes | engaged | married | long-term relationship | crushes | unrequited love | fling | long distance | online relationship | just dating | new relationship | toxic lovers | friends with benefits
tropes i'd enjoy writing for them: friends to lovers | enemies to lovers | exes to lovers | fake relationship / dating | forbidden love | grumpy and sunshine | star-crossed lovers | surprise pregnancy | second chance | soulmates | amnesia / mistaken identity | forced proximity | secret relationship | slow burn relationship
would i rather plot first or jump right in and see where it goes?: develop their relationship first | jump right in | something in between ( what specifically? )
what now?: let's plot something | send me shippy memes | i'll send you shippy memes | write me a random starter | i'll write you a random starter
anything else i want you to know about me / my character / my shipping habits: ( put whatever you want here )
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frost-queen · 3 months
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My mortal flaw (Reader x Zuko)
Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya
Summary: Reader is a watertribe princess, intended to marry Prince Zuko as an offering of peace between the nations. Zuko never wanted you as his wife and finds you a weakness. A weakness he never saw coming. Upon the discovery of the Avatar, you try to sneak away, only to be discovered by Zuko leading to an arguement. At Kyoshi island you find an escape with Sokka and Katara which makes Zuko derranged and furious. Doing anything in his power to get you back. Finally realizing he might love you. [ part 2 & part 3 & part 4 ]
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There were loud knocks on the door to your cabin. It made you lift your head up. You didn’t respond immediate as the next following knocks turned into banging. – “Gentle, gentle.” – you heard a muffled voice speak from the other side. There was a deep sigh, followed by a gentle knock. Almost too gentle. – “Yes.” – you responded having kind of clue of who was at the other side.
“Are you done staying inside?” – It was Prince Zuko speaking at the other end. – “No.” – you responded hearing Zuko barely loose his temper on the other end. – “Calm, calm now nephew.” – you recognized it was Iroh’s voice, soothing the prince’s temper.
You heard some movements till Zuko’s temper took over. – “Then perish inside!” – he yelled at the door as you saw the light of flames through the cracks. Jumping up you went up to the door. – “I will!” – you shouted back in frustration. There was a loud groan with a hard stomp against your door. Startling you away from the door.
Footsteps died out It made you near the door again, holding your ear against it. Once the storm had passed, you exhaled deep. You knew you couldn’t stay in your cabin. It wasn’t deliberately, but you sometimes wanted to avoid Zuko.
Almost at every occasion were you forced together in close proximity. The waterbending princess promised to him. A peace treaty between nations. Honestly you didn’t know what possessed Fire lord Ozai to accept your father’s proposition of simply handing you over on a silver platter to his son.
Being on Zuko’s ship for almost four years now, you had a bit of a clue. Perhaps the fire lord accepted it, to taunt Zuko more. A way of shaming him further against his nation. Water and fire weren’t meant to be together. It was an extra nudge to keep Zuko out of the fire nation. If he wasn’t so bad tempered you might feel sympathy for him.
Opening the door, you decided to head out. Probably the first in days. You missed the ocean breeze, the salty water, the cold, the moon. You missed everything that felt close to you. Looking cautiously around for Zuko, you snuck your way up to the deck. Feeling the breeze on your skin, you inhaled deep. Composed you went to the railing, holding tight to it. Feeling the rocking of the ship on the water, you leaned back to take it in.
With a satisfying breath, you looked up to the moon. The deck was mostly empty. Most soldiers below deck. Playing some cards or drinking. It was a bit too quiet as you missed the buzzing life of your village. Leaning with your chin on your arms by the railing, you stared into the water. Wondering how your tribe was doing without your presence.
“What are you doing here?” – A loud voice raged. You jumped up, startled to bone. Turning your posture a bit, you saw Zuko braising as he came your way. You rolled your eyes at him. – “Make up your mind where you want me.” – you replied raising your voice a bit as well. Zuko puffed up his chest with anger, standing face to face with you. His hands radiating heat. His gaze scanning yours. He hated how vulnerable your gaze was. Soft and mesmerizing as the moon.
A wind picked up from the east as it made you shiver. Zuko noticed it, observing you. – “Fetch the princess a blanket!” – he yelled without a glance away from you. From behind Zuko at the other side, you saw a soldier rush to get you a blanket. You tilted your head a bit. – “Your uncle isn’t looking.” – you told him.
Knowing he only showed kindness when his uncle forced him to be civil. – “I know.” – Zuko responded with a soft glare. The soldier returned with a blanket as Zuko snatched it from his hands. He rose his hands, intending to place the blanket over your shoulders as he stopped himself. He caught himself being nice. Showing a weakness, he couldn’t afford.
He brought his hands back to his chest, throwing the blanket at you. You caught it when it hit your chest. – “How gentle of you.” – you said sarcastic, putting the blanket over your shoulders. Zuko huffed loud as he staid in your presence. Close as it made you uncertain at this point. What was he still doing around you? He never staid this long around you. Not if it wasn’t forced on him.
There was a rumble in the sky followed by a strong gush of air. It knocked you right against Zuko’s chest. His hand subtle on your back as the wind kept blazing through. Zuko’s eyes lit up, lowering his hand on you. From the corner of your eye, you saw a bright blue light.
Making you turn around to bestow upon the beam of light in the sky. – “What is that?” – you asked a bit nervous and frightened. Unconsciously you leaned back, coming in touch with Zuko’s chest. Zuko stepped back as you felt the loss of touch. He started ordering commands to his crew to set coarse to the beam of light. It might be a clue for his search for the Avatar.
The ship neared the village of the southern water tribe. It cracked the ice open when it steered frontal through it. The village nearing. Zuko stood on deck. Uncle Iroh a step behind him to the side. You stood beside Zuko, your fiancé. With worry, you looked up to him. – “Stay on the ship.” – he said firm, keeping his hands behind his back. – “but…” – you started. – “Stay here!” – Zuko yelled at you, making you gulp nervously. – “Zuko!” – Iroh called out.
“Show the princess some kindness.” – he told him with a soft glare. Zuko breathed with a scoff. He lowered himself a bit to speak to you like a he would do to a little child. – “That’s an order from your prince.” – he made clear. Something you caught in his eyes, made you see a smidge of desperation in him. Did he perhaps think you’d stay here with the people of your own kind?
That once you left the ship, they’d see you as a prisoner and claim you as theirs? Before you could think of it more, had Zuko turned away. Zuko accepted his helmet from one of his men, following them. Iroh came joining your side as you watched Zuko and his men descend onto the ice. – “Best to stay out of a fight, princess.” – he said to you.
Being on the ship was boring. You hardly had any sight of what was happening down at the village. You saw flashes of fire as you hoped Zuko wouldn’t burn down the village. It was small. Smaller than any village you had known. You had lost sight of Iroh. He was probably up on the high deck to overlook the happening. A gush of wind made you bring your hands up to protect your face. – “An airbender?” – you questioned.
Hadn’t they gone instinct? For over a hundred years there haven’t been an airbender. – “The Avatar!” – you heard the soldiers shout in unison. – “The Avatar.” – you gasped in shock. Looking up, you knew Iroh’s eye was on Zuko. As it always was. You duck down, rushing to the railing. Below the ice had cracked where the ship had broken through.
Grabbing the railing, you jumped over it, swaying your hand up. A trail of water spiralled up, flowing around you as it slowed your descend. Your feet hit the ice as the water splashed on the ice. Ignoring Zuko’s order, you needed to see it for yourself.  Keeping yourself low to avoid Iroh spotting you, you snuck up in haste to the village.  
You neared the entrance of the village, eyes wide with shock of what you saw. People running around. The soldiers causing fires to scare them into handing over the Avatar. You snuck into the village trying to look for the Avatar. A deranged fire blast went your way as it hit an igloo near you. The impact made you duck down, receiving some exploded ice on your back.
“It isn’t save here!” – A boy called out, taking your hand as he pulled you away from the burning igloo. He came to a stop, taking a moment to fully look at you. – “Who are you?” – he asked, still holding your hand. You panicked pulling your hand out of his and taking a run for it. – “Hey!” – the boy called out coming after you.
He knew everyone from his village, yet you were unfamiliar. He got stopped in his tracks by fire. Looking over his shoulder, he saw his sister. – “Katara hide!” – he shouted with a wave of his arm. You came to a stop seeing the Avatar in the air. Never did you think you’d see the Avatar.
Your gaze got pulled away by a hard pull on your wrist. Forcing you to look another way. Zuko’s way. – “You ignored my order!” – Zuko shouted at you, tugging hard on your wrist. You tried pulling your wrist out of his grip as he held it tight. – “I’m not your soldier!” – you yelled back at him. Zuko glared at you. – “Get back to the ship!” – he ordered with anger. – “I will stay!” – you stood your ground, not wanting to leave. – “Y/n! Get. To. The. Ship.” – he repeated trying to compose himself.
Feeling himself boil with anger over you. Angry that you deliberately ignored his order. You pulled your wrist out of his grip with force. – “I didn’t sign up for this!” – you replied with fury. – “For what?” – Zuko fired back. – “These are my people Zuko!” – you told him. – “I just want the Avatar!” – he responded. In the corner of his eye, he saw a spear heading your way. Zuko tensed his jaw, grabbing you as he tackled you to the ground. Rolling over in the snow as the spear flew over your heads.
You laid in the snow, feeling Zuko half on top of you. His hand protective on your head. He pulled you up as he created fire, bending it towards the tribe member who threw the spear at you. – “Zuko!” – you called out, pushing his arm down. – “The ship now!” – Zuko yelled with a rage unlike you had ever seen. Before you knew it, grabbed two of his men you by the arms. Dragging you out of the village back to the ship.
**
“Stay with the princess!” – Zuko ordered one of his men. They bowed as a response. – “Don’t let her out of your sight.” – he added tracking up the hill. Iroh right behind him. You followed in line as Zuko lead the expedition to capture the Avatar. Having been spotted on Kyoshi island. – “The Avatar is mine.” – Zuko said out loud.
Up on the hill was a bright blue light shining. Hinting the Avatar was up there. Up ahead you saw a water tribe girl take a stand as defence. She let her arms sway, letting a whip of water splash at Zuko’s feet. Zuko stopped, pulling his foot up to see the wetness on his shoes. – “Pathetic.” – he called out.
The girl furrowed her brows at the sight of you. – “Stand aside girl.” – Zuko ordered. The girl moved her hands up. – “You’ll have to go through me.” – she replied. Zuko laughed. – “That won’t be a problem.” – he answered preparing himself. He fired at her as she fell backwards onto the grass. A sudden gush of wind made you all look away. Zuko’s eyes widened when Avatar Kyoshi landed in front of them. With one wave of her fan, were you all pushed back by air. Falling back.
“Protect the princess!” – Zuko shouted as he tried to get back up. The soldier enlisted to keep you save, pulled you up by your arm. Dragging you away from the others. He led you down the hill through the woods. You had little time to stand still and think about what was happening. Soon you neared the town as the soldier kept a grip on you, looking constantly over his shoulder. You froze when a fan flashed at him, hitting him in the head. It knocked him down.
Your gaze met up with a young girl looking a lot like Avatar Kyoshi with her make-up. The same boy from the water tribe at her side. – “Hey I know you!” – he said with a confused point at you. – “You were at my tribe too.” – he stated with furrowed brows. You turned around taking a run for it. – “Hey wait!” – Sokka called out, coming after you with Suki. You stopped, brought your hands up your face, then you pushed them forwards. The crackling of ice sounding. Sokka and Suki looked down, their feet slippery on ice.
“She can bend.” – Suki told Sokka out of breath. Suki grabbed Sokka by his shirt, pulling him off the ice. They went back in pursuit. In the woods, you couldn’t tell the direction apart. Not knowing where it might lead you. – “Hey wait!” – Sokka shouted to get your attention. Panting you tried to stay ahead of them. You screamed when you nearly bumped into the girl that came out of nowhere. You fell back, caught off guard. – “Katara get her.” – Sokka called out, out of breath.
Katara took a stand, ready to whip you with water if you dared to move. – “Why are you with the fire nation?” – she asked rudely. Suki extended her hand to you as you accepted it, letting her help you up. – “Are you their prisoner?” – Sokka questioned as you remained silent. – “There’s no need to be scared.” – Suki spoke rubbing her hand on your back, soothingly. – “We’ll save you.” – Sokka responded proudly. Before you knew it, were you dragged along with them.
Zuko was panting, taking a look around. – “Where is the princess?” – he asked loud. All his men looked at each other uncertain. Zuko felt himself grow angrier. – “Where is Y/n!” – he shouted unleashing fire from his fists. – “Don’t worry Zuko, we’ll find her.” – Iroh said to sooth him. – “Find her!” – Zuko ordered to his men. – “Burn this entire island down if you must to find her!” – he moved his fist forward, a blast of fire hitting a tree as it set it on fire. His men scattered away in search of you. – “We’ll find her Zuko…” – Iroh spoke placing a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. Zuko brushed his hand harshly off. He was panting. Braising with anger that he had lost sight of you.
If this would’ve happened years ago, he would just leave, being glad to be rid of you. Now, he felt like he couldn’t. You weren’t around him for a few moments and he already missed the argues with you. He missed your presence, more than he would ever admit. It wasn’t easy being forced on this mission with someone you were signed up to marry. Yet you were there. Day in and out. You were there at every step of the way. The water tribe princess he learned to admire… in secret.
Admitting it to himself that he actually… cared was scary. You were a weakness. You still are a weakness to him. One he didn’t intended on. Zuko called it out, burning the trees nearby. A tree’s trunk cracked. The top bush falling to the side. Zuko narrowed his eyes when he saw something familiar blue trotting up the hill. Instead of one, he recognized three. Taking in deep breaths, he bald his hands into fists.
He called it out as the fire coming out of him startled Iroh. It was blazing hot. Iroh saw it now as well, swallowing nervously. – “Zuko…” – he started moving his hand forwards. Before he could reach Zuko, had Zuko ran off. Huffing and puffing with anger to get you back. The grass catching fire from where he passed. His wrath waiting to be unleashed.
“So why were you with the fire nation?” – Katara asked as she pushed you up the hill. – “It’s complicated.” – you answered. – “How is it complicated?” – Sokka asked scratching the back of his head. – “It’s…” – you started cut off by loud shouting. You leaped aside when a fire blast went your way. Looking back at the trail, you saw Zuko panting with anger. His fist out where the fire blast had come from.
“He’s back!” – Sokka called out, helping his sister back up. Sokka then rushed over to you, helping you up. – “We have to go.” – he told you. Zuko fired once more, preventing them from going further up the hill. – “You are not going anywhere with her!” – he made clear. Sokka pulled you behind him. – “She’s not your prisoner!” – Sokka shouted at Zuko.
“No.” – Zuko replied composing himself a bit. – “She’s my intended.” – he said out loud making Sokka’s jaw drop, gawking at Zuko. – “Now hands off before I burn you!” – Zuko threatened. Sokka immediately pulled his hands off you, having no intention to die. Zuko’s gaze met up with yours, softening as he extending his hand to you. – “Please…” – he asked.
The sincereness from him made you realize he’d truly cared for you. For long you didn’t think it was possible. But here he was burning bridges to get to you. You took a deep breath, making the intention to reach your hand out to him when a gush of wind knocked him back. The Avatar landed soundless between Zuko and you. – “Leave my friends alone!” – Aang called out.
Zuko pressed his fist into the ground, groaning in anger. He got up firing at Aang. Aang deflected his fire with a defence of his own. Aang swayed his stick, knocking Zuko further back down the hill. Zuko got back up, going with all his might against Aang. Using all his power against the Avatar in order to get you back. – “Wait!” – you called out loud. Aang and Zuko stopped.
Aang looking confused at you. – “Don’t hurt him.” – you told Aang. Aang stared dumbfound  at you. Zuko slowly got up as you ran up to him. Slamming yourself against his chest when he had gotten up. Your arms around him. Zuko moved his arms around you as well, lowering his head on your shoulder to feel your embrace deeper.
“I need you Y/n.” – Zuko whispered to you. You hugged him tighter as a response. – “Can someone explain to me what is happening?” – Aang said out loud, looking back at his friends. Sokka and Katara could only stare in shock at the two of you. – “They’re intended.” – Sokka said finding it hard to believe and finding it odd that he was saying it out loud. – “Huh?” – Aang responded.
“We should probably leave.” – Katara whispered to her brother. – “Good idea.” – he whispered back, slowly backing away. The three of them ran off. Zuko and you stopped embracing. He smiled at you, touching your cheek. You brought his hand down, keeping it in yours. Holding hands, you went back down the hill with Zuko.
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soaps-mohawk · 4 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 3 - Speak Their Language
Summary: You get something to aid you in your attempts to bond with your pack. Unfortunately, your ideas have consequences for everyone.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, some brief violent imagery but nothing worse than what's in the game, lots of military inaccuracies
Author's Note: Did you know there’s Scottish translators online? I do now lmaooo. Those military inaccuracies are really coming through in this one so...if you’re here for accuracy...I am so sorry. This one's a bit shorter, more of a filler for the next one but there's some important stuff that happens that you'll need for the next chapter. Also a lot of good ole easter eggs and references in this one. If you can find them all, I’ll give you a cookie. 
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You perk up when a knock sounds at your door. You hop off your bed, eagerly swinging the door open. Price is standing there, a package in his hands. The corner of his mouth twitches as you smile, almost bouncing on your toes in excitement. 
“Kate said you’d be expecting this.” He says, amusement shining in his eyes. 
You nod, holding out your hands. “Yes, sir!” 
You take the package, holding it against your chest. You had sworn Kate to secrecy about what was in it, after a long explanation of why you needed it and why you were asking her for it and not Price. She said she threw in a few other things, things you didn’t realize you’d miss once you moved to the UK. You knew she likely did that so she wouldn’t have to lie to Price when he asked.
“Don’t have too much fun.” He says, giving you a smile. 
“I’ll try not to.” You grin. “Thank you, sir!” 
You close the door, not bothering to lock it as you bound back to your bed. You open the package, digging through the snacks to the bottom of the box. You move the box to the floor, holding the book in your lap. You run your hand over the cover, excitement thrumming through you. 
“The Powerful Omega.” 
You’ve spent the last few days running through what you remembered from the book the last time you read it almost four years ago. There wasn’t much, only a few things sticking with you. Things you thought would be helpful. 
You curl up on your bed as the others head out for the afternoon, the familiar sound of boots disappearing down the hallway fading into the background as you dig into the book. You’re determined to find some way to get Ghost to at least be tolerant of your presence. You don’t need him to want you, you don’t even need him to like you. You just know the entire process will be easier if he’s at least accepting of the fact you’re going to be part of the pack, whether either of you like it or not. 
That was long before you knew you’d be placed in a military pack, though. 
He’s a big, tough, military alpha who doesn’t like to show his face. There has to be something in the book that might help you, or at least give you ideas on what to try. You know the best you can do with Ghost is try. He’s an enigma on purpose, and it seems like he’s going to stay that way, regardless of how close you try and get to him. 
You could use Soap to get close to him. Ghost’s protective aura practically envelopes Soap whenever they’re in close proximity, laying a claim without even having to touch one another. You know getting close to Soap could force Ghost to get comfortable with you, or it might make him more territorial.
But that scene at breakfast a few days ago, when he’d gotten defensive over that soldier staring in your direction. 
You let out an exasperated sigh, opening the book. “Alphas are so infuriating for literally no reason.” You murmur to yourself. 
You read until another knock sounds at the door, signaling lunch. You use your note pages as a bookmark, stuffing the book into the back of your underwear drawer before opening the door. 
“Hungry, pup?” Price greets you as he usually does when he’s escorting you to a meal. 
You nod, stepping out and closing the door behind you. “Always, sir.” 
Like most omegas, you have a healthy appetite. It always gets bigger close to your heat, and you never quite feel satisfied and full during that time. You wonder how you’re going to manage on a military base with such a rigid schedule. There’s always snacks in the rec room, but you’re going to need a lot more than chips and protein drinks to keep you happy when the time comes. 
You follow Price to the mess, his arm brushing yours as you walk. You’ve noticed them getting closer to you over the past few days, at least in the literal sense. It started with Soap and Gaz. They walk closer to you, sit closer to you. When you join them in the evenings in the rec room they’ve started putting you between them. Price has now started getting closer, walking closer to you, standing closer to you, often looming behind you like a shadow. 
Ghost is the only one who hasn’t changed much, still regarding you with disinterest and speaking shortly to you when you’re forced to interact. 
“Don’t worry about ‘im lass. He'll warm up tae ye.” Soap had reassured you after a rather cold shoulder from Ghost. 
You’re not entirely sure that’s possible. You’re determined to at least try to get on amicable terms with him, and you’re hopeful the book will help with that. Even if he’s nothing more than just another alpha in your pack, if you can get him to stop being so icy around you, perhaps you’ll be able to settle in better. 
And maybe you’ll be able to fix your lack of instincts. 
Dr. Keller said there was nothing wrong with your lack of instincts at this point in the transition, but everything you had learned at The Institute goes against what she said. You’re an omega. Your job is to be obedient, to serve your pack, and follow your alpha’s commands. Good omegas do what’s asked of them without question, putting their trust in their alpha. No one knows what’s best for you like your alpha. 
Your alpha hasn’t asked much of anything of you. 
You don’t know how to feel about that. 
“I’m startin’ tae think that sandwich insulted ye, lass.” 
Soap’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You have been sitting and staring at your sandwich for a while, lost in your thoughts. It’s not a terrible sandwich by any means, certainly better than the ones you got at The Institute. 
They’re all staring at you, four pairs of eyes watching you. You’ve barely touched your plate, and you hardly remember going through the line. 
You shake your head, picking up your fork to poke at whatever mushy vegetable Price had added to your tray. “No, it’s fine. I was just lost in thought.” 
“‘Bout what?” Soap asks, taking a bite of his own sandwich. 
You shrug. “Just something Dr. Keller said.” 
“Ah, omega secrets then.” Soap grins. “I’ve heard rumors that omegas know the true meaning of the universe.” 
“Yeah, it’s 42.” You say, earning a chuckle from Price. 
If you hadn’t been looking, you wouldn’t have noticed the shift in Ghost’s shoulders, the slight softening of his gaze for a moment as he stares at his own sandwich. 
He's laughing at you again. 
He’s an enigma, a confusing presence in your life. You have no choice but to have him in your life, just as he has no choice but to have you in his life. 
You finish your food quickly, wanting to get back to the book. You’ve already got some ideas floating around from it, things that might help you ease into their world a bit more. 
Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, the area between the two buildings more crowded than usual. You both slow a bit as a whistle sounds through the air, your head turning as a rather crude comment reaches your ears. 
“Ignore them.” Gaz says, putting a hand on your back. “Bunch of cocksure alphas. They’re always rowdy after the weekend. They go out, surround themselves with omega barrack bunnies, make themselves feel important.” 
“Have you...been with a barrack bunny?” You ask hesitantly, mostly out of curiosity. You know they likely have. They've had their entire lives they've been able to dictate for themselves. 
“Not since joining the team.” He answers honestly. “None of us have. We don’t usually have the time, or the need. We have each other now.”
And now they have you.
“Do they, the other soldiers...do they know why I’m here?” You find yourself asking as you enter the barracks. 
“Not specifically.” Gaz says. “Most of what we do is classified, even to them. I think some of them have begun to put two and two together. And before too long, they’ll be able to figure it out.” He says, giving you a look as you stop in front of your door. 
“Yeah...” You say softly, your stomach churning nervously at the thought of your approaching heat. There’s still quite a bit of time before then, but you don’t feel ready. You don’t feel ready to spend a heat with an alpha, you don’t feel ready to be claimed. 
“Don’t worry too much.” He says, pressing his finger between your brows like he might be able to smooth out the frown that’s formed between them. “Price will take good care of you. Besides, we’ve got plenty of time to work out the kinks.” He chucks you under the chin gently before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your rapidly warming cheek. “I’ll see you later, yeah?” 
You still feel a bit like you’re floating as you close your door behind you. Your face is warm, not just from the forwardness of Gaz’s actions but also his words. You let out a quiet sound as you fan your face, trying desperately not to think about how soft his lips are, how easily he had ignited a fire within you with some words and a simple touch. 
Gaz is trouble, you think as you pull out the book again, settling down at your desk to read. 
You open the book, starting at the next section. 
Bonding With Your Pack. 
This is what you need, ideas on how to do exactly that. Even though you’re already beginning to feel close to Soap and Gaz, you still feel as if there’s a chasm keeping you from Price, and an ocean between you and Ghost. You just need something, anything that will start building that rope bridge and maybe a boat. 
Learn To Speak Their Language. 
You pause at the chapter title, pulling out the notebook you’ve been taking notes in. 
“As much as we want to think it can be, not everything can be about us all the time. Just like in any relationship, we have to put effort into others as well. If you find yourself struggling to connect with your alpha, the first step is to figure out something they’re interested in. Sports? Video Games? Food? Get to know your alpha, and make it a point to learn about something they’re interested in. Learn to speak their language.” 
You read the passage thrice over, the realization dawning on you. You knew from the beginning that getting them to adapt to you was not going to be possible. You were going to have to adapt yourself to fit into their lives. Their lives of fighting and war and violence and guns. 
An idea begins to form in your head as you brainstorm, scribbling page after page of notes. It’s not perfect, but you’re in no rush to perfect it. After all, you’ve got nothing but time.
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You sit next to Soap at breakfast, close enough his arm is brushing yours. You wish you could see Ghost’s face, or, well, his eyes at least. 
“So what do you guys do between breakfast and lunch?” You ask, all four of them pausing as they look at you. You continue to eat, pretending not to notice their looks. You know mornings are for their workouts before breakfast, but what they do between meals is almost entirely unknown to you. You assume it’s some sort of training, maybe meetings and briefings. 
“Training, usually.” Price answers after a moment. “Running simulations, training courses, weapons training, hand-to-hand. Keeps our skills sharp. Today they’re running a routine course to make sure they’re not getting lazy in our time off.” 
“Can I come?” You ask, their gazes snapping to you again. “To watch? I’m getting kind of bored sitting around.” 
Price’s gaze burns into you as you meet it, not looking away despite the tickling at the back of your neck telling you to yield. Tough alphas like a challenge, the book said. Don’t back down, even when you want to. 
“I don’t see why not.” He finally says, picking up his cup of coffee. “Give these muppets another reason to compete with each other.” 
The table erupts in chaos as Gaz and Soap immediately start betting with each other. You can’t help but smile, used to their bickering and competitiveness after spending time with them doing literally anything together. 
This is certainly going to be interesting, if nothing else. 
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“There’s two rules for you being here.” Price says as you walk with him down a line of hangars. “You do everything I say, and stick close to me. They’ll be using live rounds, and the last thing we need is you catching a stray bullet in some freak accident.” 
“Sir, yes, sir!” You say, saluting him. 
He stares down at you for a moment, amusement shining in his eyes. “Cute.” He leads you into the hangar, a sort of building made out of plywood set up inside. “Over here.” He leads you to where a sort of command center is set up. 
There’s screens showing feeds from cameras set up inside the mock building, a timer and an intercom system set up. You look it over in amazement, Price coming to stand next to you. 
“How does it work?” You ask. 
“They enter there.” He points to what you assume represents the front door. “Work their way through both levels to clear the house.There’s targets in some rooms that pop up when certain pressure triggers are hit on the floor. Hit every target, clear the house, exit there,” He points at a spot on the side of the house in front of where you’re standing. “And reach that red line in 60 seconds.” 
You blink in surprise. “How fast can they do it?” 
“Gaz holds the record currently at 19 seconds, Ghost in second at 19.5, and Soap at 20.5.” He says. 
“Wow.” You say under your breath, looking over the cameras again. “I’m not sure I could even think that fast.” 
Price chuckles. “I wouldn’t expect you to be able to, sweetheart. We’ve had years and years of training and experience. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He says, heading back down the steps to where the others have gathered, wearing light gear. 
It’s not the first time you’ve seen them all geared up, but the change is always palpable. Gone are the laid back betas and alpha, and instead they’ve shifted into battle-hardened soldiers. It’s almost mesmerizing how easily they can shift between the two. 
And you can hardly handle your instincts getting a little twitchy. 
Price joins you again, turning on the intercom system. “Alright Gaz, at my go sweep the house and clear the rooms.” You hold your breath as Price pauses, Gaz in place at the front door. “Go, go, go!” Price says, the timer starting as Gaz enters the house. 
You watch on the cameras as he goes through the lower levels, jumping slightly as the first gunshots echo through the hangar. They’re louder than you had expected, even with the hangar doors opened partway. You feel a bit anxious as you watch the time and his progress, almost as if you’re watching an intense movie. 
17...18...19...
Gaz slips through the side door, racing for the red line marking the end. You stare at the timer as Price hits the stop button. Twenty one seconds. You wonder how often they don’t meet their previous records, or if their break really is having that much of an effect on them. You hear Gaz curse quietly as he passes, heading back to stand by Soap as Ghost gets ready at the start. 
The nervous anticipation doesn't lessen any as Ghost makes his way through the house, moving swiftly and silently as he always seemed to do. For such a large being he can move so quietly with an ease unlike you’ve ever seen. 
You watch the timer as he crosses the red line. 21.9. 
You catch a whiff of his scent as he passes, the hint of ozone burning your nose. He’s frustrated. They have to know they’re not performing as well as they know they can. Part of you wonders if it’s your fault they’re not even meeting their best times. 
Soap is up last, moving with an ease and focus that you’re not entirely surprised he’s capable of. Though he tends to be the most lighthearted of the four, and the most unserious, he made it on the team for a reason. 
Again you watch the timer, still held at rapt attention in the intensity of the moment as he crosses the red line. 25. He lets out a loud string of curses, most of which you don’t understand as he moves back to the start. 
“Wait here.” Price says before descending back down the steps. 
You’ve seen the change in him as well, a bit more subtle as he always seemed to be in the Captain mindset to some degree. You wonder if he’s ever not the Captain, if there’s a time where he gets to just be John Price. You wonder what he’s like when he doesn’t have the weight of his responsibility constantly on his shoulders. You wonder when the last time he got to let go like that was. 
“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” You say as he joins you once more. You’re beginning to think maybe you made a mistake in asking to come along. 
“Most likely.” He says, resetting the timer. “But that’s something we need to know. This is the new normal. They need to learn to work through it.” 
Especially if it’s you they’re trying to get to. 
You knew there was a risk. Just being associated with them puts you at risk. They’re hidden, anonymous, deeply classified for a reason. You’d gotten that briefing during your time training with the CIA, after Laswell had told you where you would be going. Just knowing their names, who they are, where their home base is, is enough to put you in danger. You were hidden just as much as they were now, your entire existence now hidden beneath layers of security clearance. 
You could still be a target, if anyone found out. They might think you have information, details about their missions, about the things they do. 
The likelihood of that happening was low, but never zero. There was still risk involved in being around them, a risk you were assigned to take. It was your duty, though, as an omega. Do what you’re told, go where you’re sent, follow your alpha without question. 
Institutes really are like the military, you think. Only you’re fighting a different battle than they are.
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You’re seated on the couch in your usual spot, curled up with a book. Your pack was having some downtime as Price had an emergency meeting he had to attend. Your heart had jumped a bit at the news, at the thought that they might be pulled away early. They weren’t supposed to get called off on a mission until after your next heat to allow for the adjustment and claiming, but if they were needed...they could be called away before then. 
So you’d settled in with a book in the rec room to try and calm your nervous energy. 
“Mind if I join ye?” 
You look up as Soap enters the rec room, a smile on his face. “No, go ahead.” You offer a smile back. 
He joins you on the couch, lifting your legs over his lap. You flush a bit at the bold move, but you were growing used to his boldness. “What are ye readin’?” 
“‘Lord of the Flies.’” You say, holding up the cover. 
“Did ye finish the other one already?” He asks in astonishment. 
“I’ve already read two books since I got here.” You say, laughing a little. 
“Och, yer a bright wee lamb, aren’t ye?” He chuckles. “Ye like tae read?” 
You nod. “Yeah. It’s good for passing the time.” 
He hums, grabbing the remote. “Ghost likes tae read too. Dinnae tell him I told ye that.” He holds up the remote. “Ye mind?” 
You shake your head. “No, go ahead.” 
He turns on the TV, keeping the volume low as he sits with you. His hand is warm where it rests on your calf, his thumb absentmindedly stroking circles over the fabric. You try to focus on the book but you can’t help the fluttering in your stomach at the proximity of the beta. You keep catching whiffs of his scent, and you’re beginning to feel an urge to ask him  about Ghost. If anyone can give you answers, it’ll be Soap. 
“Soap?” You ask, closing your book. 
He hums, turning to look at you. You stare into those bright blue eyes, your heart fluttering a bit. His eyes are so warm and expressive, shining with something you can’t quite put a name to. 
“Does Ghost...hate me?” You ask quietly, knowing with your luck as soon as you start the conversation, the man in question would appear out of nowhere. 
Soap’s lips tug up into a smile, a quiet chuckle rumbling through his chest. “Nae, lass. He doesnae hate ye. Ghost is...” He makes a face, trying to find the right words. “Ghost is very guarded.” 
He slips his arms around you, lifting you into his lap. You let out a quiet sound in surprise, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders out of instinct. His arms wrap around you, his tactical vest digging into your side a bit, but you’re too focused on the sudden proximity to really care. 
“He's no an easy man tae get close tae.” He continues. “I know. Couldnae stand me when we first met. I broke him down, proved myself. We spent enough time together, and that bond just formed naturally.” 
“He sees me as a threat.” You say, voicing the opinion you’ve been coming to over the last few days. 
“I wouldnae say a threat.” Soap grins, his hand squeezing your side. “A wee yin like ye. He just needs time tae adjust. He's gonnae dae it in his own way.” 
“I don’t even need him to really like me.” You say, tracing the Union Jack on the front of Soap’s vest. “I just need him to tolerate me.” 
“This is him tolerating ye.” Soap deadpans. 
You give him a look. “Well he’s got a funny way of showing it then.” 
Soap chuckles, the sound vibrating through your body. “Nah, dinnae worry too much about him, hen.” 
You hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You’re right. It’s Captain Price I need to worry about.” 
“I dinnae think ye need tae worry too much there either.” Soap grins. “The Cap’n is head over heels for ye already.” 
You give him a look of disbelief, eyebrows raising. “What?” 
Soap nods. “Oh aye, I havenae seen him smile this much in all the time I’ve known him.” 
You continue to stare in disbelief. You knew Price at least tolerated the idea of you becoming his omega. He’s been nothing but polite, cordial even with you. In the traditional sense he’s already begun courting you, providing and protecting. You still have yet to move beyond the polite tiptoeing, even with how things have been shifting the last few days.
You have the beta’s approval, which you know is an important step in pack formation. 
You bite your lip, your fingers curling around the edge of his vest. “You really think he...” 
“Mhm.” Soap nods. “Cannae blame him, pretty omega like ye strutting around the base.” 
He’s getting closer to you. You can’t do anything but stay still as his face lowers towards yours. Your stomach is fluttering, but you can’t tell if it’s nerves or excitement. His hand slides down your side, following the curve of your hip before it settles on your thigh. He’s so warm, his scent amplified with your close proximity. You feel a bit dizzy, your head spinning a bit. You understand now how betas can still win over both alphas and omegas. 
“We all feel lucky havin’ ye.” He says quietly, his breath fanning your face. His forehead presses against yours, so close to you your noses are brushing.
You wonder what Ghost would do if he walked in and saw you this close to his beta. Would your body fly through a window or a wall? Or would he tackle you, wrap his hands around your throat and squeeze until your head pops or your airway collapses? Or, was Soap right and he would do nothing? 
Or would he like it? 
The thought sends a shiver down your spine. Soap likes you, both of the betas in your new pack like you. It’s good, you know, having the approval of both betas, even though you don’t technically need both. Price could claim you with only his and Gaz’s approval, though it would be easier if all four approved. 
You wonder if Ghosts supposed tolerance of you is because of Soap. The alpha is very protective of his beta, though you don’t doubt Soap would go to bat for you if he needed to. 
He might have already. 
Soap hasn’t moved, both of you frozen where you are. He wants to kiss you, you think, your brain pulling up all the movies you’ve seen in your life. You’re gripping onto him tightly, your stomach fluttering. You’re nervous, unsure of how to move next. Do you let him kiss you? You’ve only been kissed once before, but that was hardly more than a childish peck on the lips. He wants to kiss you like they do in the movies. 
Will Soap be upset if you pull away? Will he force you back and take what he wants? There would be no stopping him. Even if the others were in the building, even if they heard you, would they come to your rescue? Or would they let it happen because it’s your purpose? What would Ghost do if he walked in and saw you? What would Price do? Would Price be upset that he wasn’t the first to kiss you? 
You are his claim after all. 
You slowly draw yourself back, removing your arm from around his shoulders as you turn slightly to face the TV. You hold your breath, not wanting to catch the souring of Soap’s scent, the tell that he was upset at your decision. You wait for his grip to tighten, for his body to force you back onto the couch. His hand moves from your thigh and you tense, waiting for the reprimanding to come, but instead he simply wraps his arms around your upper body again, holding you like he had been before. 
Your heart is still thudding in your chest as you quietly watch the TV, the silence in the room thick but not uncomfortable. You lean your head back on his shoulder, letting yourself relax into him. The almondy scent of beta is thick in the air, likely his doing to diffuse the tension he must be able to feel. 
“British TV is weird.” You say, trying to follow along with what’s going on, on the screen. 
Soap laughs, squeezing his arms around you for a moment. “Aye, it really is.” 
You continue to sit with him, letting his scent relax you. You’ve given up following what’s on the TV, his warmth and presence slowly lulling you until your eyes are drifting closed. 
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The scent permeates the air everywhere he goes. 
Caramel. Vanilla. Strawberries. 
No amount of scent blockers can keep it from seeping under his mask, permeating his senses. He’d spray the scent blocker up his nose if he thought it might work. You’re stinking up the base, his beta, his life. Even now he can smell it, the sweet cloud of your scent wafting through the halls. 
He can pick up the sharp tang of anxiety on the edge of it, a low growl rumbling through his chest in response. It burns his nose and he hates it. His boots are quiet on the tile floor as he makes for the rec room, following the cocktail of scents. Your pungent sweetness layered over Johnny’s warm spice. 
Images flash through his mind of what position he might find you both in. He can smell the musky undertones of Johnny’s desire in the air, a scent he’s very familiar with. He knows how much his beta wants the new omega that’s been forced on them. They don’t need an omega. He knows how much Price fought against it, but even the Captain has begun to fall under your intoxicating spell. 
You don’t even know you’re doing it. 
His hands curl into fists as he steps into the rec room. The TV is playing some daytime rerun, but his eyes are drawn to the couch. Johnny is fast asleep, his head leaning against yours. You’re asleep in his lap, hand under your cheek, resting against his chest. You’ll have imprints on your skin from your hand and his vest. Johnny’s arms are wrapped tight around you, looking more peaceful than he has in a while. 
He’s already comfortable enough to sleep with you. 
“MacTavish!” He snaps, startling both of you. 
The only thing that keeps you from flailing to the floor is Johnny’s quick reflexes, his grip tightening around you to keep you on his lap. Johnny blinks the sleep from his eyes, squinting up at him for a moment. 
“Let’s move.” He growls, turning and leaving the rec room. 
He refuses to look at you in your sleepy haze, not quite as quick to wake as Johnny. He doesn’t want to watch the way Johnny eases you to your feet, how small you look leaning against him as you grumble sleepily. He doesn’t want to watch as Johnny guides you to your door, easing you into the safety of your room while they leave to do their jobs. 
He hates the way he turns back to look as Johnny speaks quietly to you, those big, shiny puppy eyes staring up at him. He hates the churning in his stomach as you soften at Johnny’s kiss to your forehead, the way you watch Johnny walk down the hallway. Ghost opens the door for his beta, letting him out, but he can’t bring himself to move until he hears the click of the lock on your door sliding into place. 
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gay-dorito-dust · 21 days
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How do you think the penacony guys + argenti would react to a reader who gets flustered super easily?
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Aventurine loved the fact the he didn’t have to do much in order to make you flustered.
He could caress your cheek or kiss the back of your hand and wait for the precise moment where your eyes grew wide, breath hitched in your throat as your body went rigid.
‘Oh? Is someone perhaps a little flustered from such a simple gesture as me kissing the back of your hand?’ He’d ask teasingly as an amused smile grew across his face as his eyes memorised your every micro expression. When you didn’t respond but instead avert your eyes to try and avoid his gaze, aventurine got the response that he wanted.
‘You do don’t you!’ He cried as he got closer to you, putting a hand under your chin and moving pushing it upwards so that you were forced to look into his eyes. ‘Oh isn’t that precious,’ Aventurine coos as he somehow leant in even closer to you and whispered, ‘I’m sure with enough exposure we’ll be able to build up that endurance of yours. Okay sweetheart?’ He adds with mischief clear within his beautiful eyes.
He would make a game out of how many times he could get you flustered in under a single day.
Spoiler: He managed to make you flustered roughly 10-15 times and that was only during the day!
Aventurine has a way with words with his silver tongue and he would use it on you without a second thought until you were trying to hide yourself away in his side, clinging onto him for dear life as he only laughs and kisses the top of your head.
He’s never felt this deeply about someone before and your reactions to whenever he does express his affections only told him that you felt just as strongly towards him, and that was all he could ever need to reassure himself that his feelings towards you weren’t one sided and would treat you to whatever your heart desires.
Maybe even something that made you not so secretly match with him that he knows you won’t notice until later on?
Aventurine loves your easily flustered nature but he loved you even more. You getting flustered was merely a bonus for him that he’d take advantage of as long as you were okay with it.
Sunday grows somewhat addicted to the idea that it was his touch and his alone that had seemingly had you unraveling at the seems.
He could be grabbing a cup from the shelves to make himself a drink and places his hand on your hip as to keep you from moving as he reaches over you, smiling to himself as he heard you let out a small ‘eep’ and go rigid upon contact.
‘Are you alright my dear? You’re seemingly a little tense.’ Sunday asks as he moved his head so that his mouth was level with your earn, his observant eyes watching as the goosebumps arose and how your posture straightened almost immediately.
‘Yes! I’m fine!’ You’d exclaim and Sunday moved his hand away from your hip to your shoulder, squeezing reassuringly as if he wasn’t the sole reason you were so skittish and unable to maintain eye contact.
‘No need to shout my dear, I’m right here.’ He’d say softly as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before going about the rest of his day with the image of a flustered you to keep him in a relativity good mood.
Sunday adored your reactions to anything he did, whether big or small because it made him special, unique in your eyes that it feed into his delusion thst you were fated somewhere down the line and now you were together as promised by a higher power.
He’d start putting on your shoes for you and letting his hands linger on your legs and thighs for far longer then he should, or only let you tie his tie and revel in how flustered you get just from being in close proximity to him and silently watching on as you struggled to keep your hands steady as his musky scent invaded your senses.
Boothill adored seeing your face grow flustered and his cuteness aggression towards you would go through the roof.
He’d pinch your cheeks, you’d get flustered and try to push his hands away from your face.
He’d hug you from behind and laugh as you hurried your face into your hands to hide away how easily affected you were, but from feeling just how warm the tips of your ears were, Boothill had a vivid picture within his head about how the rest of your face looked behind your hands.
Back when you weren’t officially together Boothill even went as far as to puts his hat atop of your head, an act you weren’t all that familiar of the meaning behind, until someone brought up the fact that it meant he wanted to see more of you. Needless to say you used his hat to cover your face upon realising that the handsome cowboy you fancied was interested in you.
Even now Boothill would still puts his hat on your head and smile at how quickly it took for you to use it as a way to hide away your flustered face.
Would he playfully bite you just to what you squeak in shock and surprise? Yes, yes he would because you being flustered at anything and everything he threw at you only made Boothill’s cuteness aggression towards you worsen as you were just too darn cute for him to deny!
You were practically trapped within his arms from first thing in the morning until nightfall.
Argenti
‘Are you alright my beloved? You’re looking quite flustered, should we sit down?’
Sweet, sweet Argenti would grow excessively worried upon seeing you get worked up so easily over a small act of affection, thinking that me might’ve done something wrong and if you weren’t currently at a loss for words, you would’ve been able to calm him down and bring reason as to why that was.
All he wanted was to sing your praises and show just how amazing of a person you were to anyone who’d stop and listen, so much so that he forgot that his words held a lot more power than he thinks, seeing as how his affinity to effortlessly waxing poetry on the spot about you and your beauty had left you flustered to the high heaves and too meek to speak up on your own behalf.
‘Why do you hide away your beautiful face?’ Argenti wonders aloud as he watched you intently with kind, sweet eyes that drank you in your entirety. ‘Do you not think yourself the way that I do?’ He adds and once again you were left with a sudden inability to speak and a parched throat.
Argenti doesn’t mind you being flustered, he finds that it makes you even more beautiful in his eyes and would even praise you about your easily flustered nature, much to your dismay as this would only further send you over the edge.
He can’t help it! Everything you did was beautiful and unique to your character that he whenever he sees someone else do anything similar, his mind brings him back to you, his beloved because no one else can compare to you and you’re unique reactions towards certain aspects of life.
1K notes · View notes
lovebugism · 2 months
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I love your writing <3 I saw “he so likes her” on the enemies to lovers but I so saw it pairing with the “me? I wouldn’t say I was flirting.” On the denial of feelings list. Eddie absolutely oblivious to the heart eyes he’s making as he pulls his hair in front of his face while chatting together
ty angel! hope you like it :D — eddie munson visits you at work every day, but not because he likes you (enemies to lovers-ish, fluff, 1.1k)
You hear Eddie before you see him. The clinking of his silver rings, the swishing of his leather jacket, the thudding of his worn sneakers. His musky cologne swaddles you in a cloud of his subtle scent before he’s even there. You’re smiling about it all before you mean to.
Crouched in the X-rated section of Family Video, you restock the vulgar printed tapes and glance up at the boy towering over you. Eddie’s smiling, too — perhaps bigger than he realizes.
“Don’t tell me you came all this way to keep me company, Munson,” you tease with narrowed eyes.
“No,” the boy scoffs, a little less than convincing. He props his shoulder against the metal shelf and crosses his arms over his chest. “I have much better things to do with my Friday nights. Trust me.”
Your knees creak in protest when you rise to stand before him. You cross your arms to resemble his stance and try to be normal about your forearms brushing his. “Do you?” you lilt, obviously sarcastic.
“Yeah,” he nods with a crooked smile on his pretty pink mouth. “I could give you their names.”
“Spare me,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and spinning on your heel. Eddie follows you like a lost puppy to the front counter. “You know, if you’re gonna flirt with me, maybe try not to mention other girls. I think that’s, like, rule number one.”
Eddie’s face swirls at your words. The cartoonish look of confusion makes you smile as you round the checkout station. He forces a chuckle and props his elbows on the countertop, leaning over it in a desperate attempt to be closer to you.
“There are no—” he starts, then cuts himself off. There are no other girls, he’d say if he weren’t a total coward. But, for the sake of keeping his cards to his chest, he settles on, “—I’m not flirting with you.”
Your brow arches in a playful look of inquiry. “No?”
Eddie almost caves, then. It’s almost like you want him to say yes — to admit that he’s been flirting with you this whole time because he’s loved you since the moment he met you. It would be the truth, anyway. One that he’s spent over a year shying from.
“No,” he echoes and shakes his wild head, surprising himself with his own self-control. “No, I’m— We’re just— We’re having a conversation. ‘Cause, you know, we’re friends. I guess.”
His face scrunches like there’s something sour on his tongue. He doesn’t even like the taste of his own words. 
You squint. “Do all of your friendly conversations typically include making heart eyes at the other person?” you joke with a poorly held-back grin.
Eddie falters for a moment, knowing he’s long been found out. He decides to lie anyway. Dig the hole deeper, as it were. “Yeah, actually,” he nods. “You’ve seen the way I look at Steve, haven’t you?”
You laugh before you mean to. The sunshine sound sputters up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. Eddie must not realize how he often looks at Steve The Hair Harrington — with softly squinted eyes and gently furrowed brows — like he can never quite understand what the fuck the boy is talking about. 
“Right,” you nod, still giggling.
Eddie smiles at the pretty sound. The spearmint breath of your laughter fans across his cheek at the close proximity — one which neither of you seems eager to part from. “Yeah, so… Don’t let it go to your head, alright? There’s no flirting here.”
So you drove twenty minutes across town in a half-broken-down van to have a serious conversation? you’d ask if you felt like going around in circles.
Instead, you just nod. “Noted...”
“Now, tell me,” he starts, tilting his pretty head until his curls bunch at his shoulder. “What should me and my number of escapades watch for the evening? You know, as the resident expert and all?”
You laugh at the absurdity of his question. “I don’t know. Just— choose something,” you murmur unenthusiastically.
“I want you to choose for me,” he pouts.
“Why?” you retort, leaning against the counter to lessen the cavernous distance. 
The sudden closeness has a very obvious effect on the boy across from you. His adam’s apple bobs as his tongue darts across his bottom lip. You’re close enough to kiss now. He can almost taste you.
“So you can play it as background noise and think of me while you and this very fictitious person make out on your couch?”
“Well… I’ll probably be thinking about you either way, so…” Eddie answers when his senses return to him, shrugging with a stupid, lopsided grin. “Whether you recommend something or not doesn’t really matter.”
The look he gives you makes your stomach whirl. His eyes, made of melted chocolate, get all squishy at the edges when he looks at you. Something warm and fond swims in his gaze, speckles along his flushed cheeks, and sparkles in his smile. It’s so stupidly sincere for a boy who can’t seem to take anything seriously. The notion all but stabs you in the chest.
“You’re doing it again, you know?” you tease.
His fluffy brows pinch together. “Doing what?”
“The heart eyes thing.”
“There is no thing!” he insists with a loud, boyish laugh. “I’m just— I’m just looking at you! Is that a crime?”
“Just sayin’,” you singsong with an absentminded shrug.
Your gaze glimmers with knowing and something close to adoration as it flits up and down his form. Eddie squirms beneath your prying eyes. His ringed hands rise to his hair, gathering the untamed curls and hiding his blushing face behind them. 
“Here,” he mumbles behind his palms and chestnut locks. “Is this better for you?”
You giggle at his antics, slightly grieving his pretty face. “Much,” you nod despite yourself.
Steve and Robin watch the strange encounter from afar. They peer over the Action/Adventure aisle they’re supposed to be restocking — equal parts distracted and nosey. The boy’s scruffy face twists as he watches Eddie try hopelessly to flirt with you. “This is disgusting,” he murmurs under his breath.
“Do you think he knows?” Robin laughs, deep and gritty, as she stands on the tips of her toes to see over the metal shelf.
“Knows what?”
“That he’s obsessed with her?”
“Hell no! Look at him—” Steve scoffs, jutting his chin to the wild-haired boy across the room. 
Eddie’s got his rings all tangled in his hair now. His cheeks glow red as you help unknot the silver jewelry from his curls. He’s visibly embarrassed, but he can’t stop beaming at you. It’s borderline gag-worthy.
“—He’s got no fucking clue.”
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halfvalid · 9 months
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Hiii! If its no trouble could I have a zoro and reader fic with the one bed trope? The others know about their crushes on each other so they force each other to share a room? Anyway they end up cuddling and its all cute (the others will tease them forever about it lol)?? Thankss
intertwined ribbons
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ABOUT
alternate title: opla zoro makes my hated tropes less hated
rating: general audiences/teen & up
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!nami | live action!straw hats ensemble
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 4.9k
description: unbeknownst to you, your crush on zoro is reciprocated. the rest of the straw hats take it upon themselves to get you together by locking you in his bedroom overnight.
tags: strawhat!reader, only one bed, forced proximity, confessions, no use of 'y/n', nami is a true instigator, cuddling, soft zoro, humor
author's note: thank you so much for the request and i hope it meets your expectations!! fun fact i actually used to hate the 'only one bed' trope, so i decided to challenge myself in writing this. and i think it's one of my fave tropes now lol
(you have an inner spirit that helps you make decisions except it’s just nami.)
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“I just think that maybe you should stop avoiding him,” Nami started. You bit your cheek, ignoring her as you tied up the last of the ship’s rigging into a careful knot. Nami had been going on for the past few minutes, and you’d zoned out exactly three seconds in, when the name Zoro had first been spoken. Because of this reason you weren’t really listening, so you blinked up at her in confusion. 
“Sorry? Who am I avoiding?” 
“You’re impossible,” Nami grumbled. “And you know exactly who I’m talking about.” Which, well, fair. The math added up: you heard the word Zoro, you stopped listening, Nami continued talking until she realized you’d stopped listening. “Especially since you’re, you know—” she gave you another look, eyes rolling over to stare dead into yours— “Avoiding him.” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. Nami sighed, leaning over to tug the rope dangling from your hands out of your grip. You tried to reach back for it, but she didn’t let you. “Hey!” 
“Yes, you do. Face it. You’re avoiding Zoro.” 
You made a face at her. “I think there are ropes on the foredeck that I can attend to.” 
“No, there aren’t,” Nami answered. “Now stop changing the subject. There’s this wild concept called communication. It works wonders.” 
“Says you,” you muttered, though your arms crossed defensively across your chest. You noticed the action after a split-second and unwound your arms with a scowl. “Look, I just don’t see the point. And I haven’t been avoiding him.” 
You were, in fact, avoiding him. Ever since that dreadful night a week ago when Nami had gotten you tipsy and stuck her hand in your chest cavity fishing for secrets, you’d been avoiding him. The other girl was ridiculously good at prying truths out of you, and during the conversation, you’d accidentally spilled your crush on the Straw Hat crew’s resident swordsman. 
You’d managed to keep the secret for the months you’d been together, wherein the unfortunate feelings had developed, and you should’ve figured once somebody knew they wouldn’t leave you alone about it. Because Nami refused to talk about literally anything else. You’d expected this sort of behavior from Luffy, or maybe Sanji, but Nami? The world was more amatonormative than you'd thought. 
Nami cast you a look. “You’re blushing.” 
“Am not.”
“Are too. What’s the harm in talking to him?” Nami demanded, one hand on her hip as she stared you down. You gaped at her. 
“Um, literally everything? One, Zoro can’t talk about feelings or emotions for shit, so when he rejects me it’ll be in the most excruciating, offhand manner that will probably leave me at the bottom of a barrel of rum, two, after being rejected I’m going to have to leave the Straw Hats, three—”
Nami rolled her eyes, looking increasingly fed up with you. “For someone so obsessed with not telling our resident grass-headed swordsman about your feelings for him, you’re talking rather loudly.” 
You shut up, snapping your jaw closed with a glare. “Stop it,” you hissed. 
“Besides, who knows if he actually will reject you?” Nami turned to work on the next section of rigging, glancing over her shoulder at you. “You’re catastrophizing.” 
“I’m being realistic,” you snapped. “Okay, fine. He reciprocates my feelings. Then what? We date, we break up because all relationships eventually end, it becomes awkward, and—voila—I’ll have to leave the Straw Hats anyway. It’s a bad idea all around.” 
Nami just let out a huff of breath, the exhale laced with irritation. “Catastrophizing,” she repeated. 
“I am not—”
“Sure. Go help Sanji with dinner.” 
You gave her an exasperated look, but at this point Nami wasn’t paying attention anymore, so you stormed off into the underbelly of the Going Merry. Speak of the devil, apparently, because once you entered the kitchen you spotted not only Sanji occupying it but also Zoro. He was lounging at the table, swords strapped to his waist and a bottle of something he was nursing in hand. 
You averted your gaze from him, head running a million miles a minute. Had he noticed you’d been avoiding him? You’d tried to be furtive about it, but if Nami had noticed, maybe—
“Well, hello there,” Sanji called from where he was in the midst of dinner preparations. “Come to help?” 
“Nami sent me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think she’s appointed herself queen of the Going Merry.” 
“Oh, she did that long ago,” Sanji chided. “You’re only noticing it now. Pick up a knife, then. I’d like some help dicing the carrots.” 
You stiffly moved over to the counter, ignoring Zoro as you went even as you felt his gaze following your figure. You picked up the first knife you found, positioning yourself in front of the cutting board to start dicing the vegetables already laid out for you. Abruptly, Zoro stood up. 
“Heading out,” he muttered. “Call me when dinner’s ready.” 
With that, he left the room, leaving you and Sanji to exchange looks. “He’s moody today,” you said. 
“Probably ‘cause you’ve been avoiding him.” 
You felt the familiar pinprick of a blush starting to warm your cheeks. “You too?” 
“You’re rather obvious about it,” Sanji said with a raised eyebrow. “But enough of that.” Weirdly enough, he didn’t seem to question why. There was no way Nami had told him, so you were left confused, but no matter. The point was that for now, you were safe. 
The hour dipped to evening, and soon the moon was glowing in the sky, a shining beacon of white amidst the ocean of stars and shimmering sea. You suppressed a yawn, busing the dishes from dinner as the rest of the crew got up from their respective seats to dissolve to their own rooms. Zoro had already retired for the night—if you were avoiding him, he seemed to be doing the exact same—so at least you didn’t have that to worry about. 
“Ah, wait,” Nami said, after you’d finished washing the dishes and was ready to head out. “Zoro wants to talk to you.” 
You jolted, glancing nervously around you before grabbing her wrist. “What did you do?” you hissed. Nami just laughed. 
“Calm down. I didn’t do anything.” Off your glare, she relented. “I promise. And I swear it’s not about feelings or emotions or whatever. Even though it’s obvious you’re avoiding him, you know Zoro wouldn’t say anything.” 
You were still suspicious, but you dropped your hand. “What, then?” 
Nami shrugged, tilting her chin up just so. “I guess you’re going to have to find out.” 
“I don’t trust you,” you muttered. There was that look in her eye, the one she got whenever she was thinking of something truly devious. Still, you couldn’t figure out what she was up to, so— “Fine, I’ll go to his room. Walk me.” 
Nami rolled her eyes, but she fell into step with you as you made your way across the ship. “You should bring it up to him, you know,” she started, but silenced after your sharp glare. “Okay, okay. I get the point. I’ll stop bothering you about it.” 
You stopped by the mouth of Zoro’s door. “Wait, really?” 
“Yes, really,” Nami said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossing over her chest. “I’ll leave you alone about Mr. Prince Charming over there. Knock.” 
“You can't call him Mr. Prince Charming,” you said, though you did knock. “Prince’ is already a title.” 
Nami gave you a look. “Okay, smart-ass.” 
The door creaked open before you could give your response, and you turned, heart pounding in your throat as Zoro stared down at you. His arm was propped up by the open doorway, the other hand still clutching the doorknob. “What.” 
“Um, Nami said that you wanted to talk—” you swiveled your head towards the other girl, but before you could finish your sentence, Nami was raising up your arm and unceremoniously shoving you into the room. 
You shrieked in surprise as you fell into Zoro’s figure, stumbling into him and causing him to lose his balance. Your head shot up in offense, only to see the gleam of a golden padlock in Nami’s hand before she was yanking the door closed.
A dull click echoed through the room. The only thing you could hear for a few seconds was your own heavy breathing and the sound of Zoro gathering himself.
“Did she just—” You gaped at the closed door. “Lock us in?” 
Zoro swiftly pushed past you, jiggling the doorknob for a few moments before giving up. Sure enough, Nami had sealed it with the padlock from the outside, so there was no possibility of either of you getting out of the room. You could vaguely hear sounds from the outside—dull thuds and scrapes—and watched as Zoro started banging on the door. 
“Nami,” he called, voice dangerously low. “Let us out.” 
“Sorry, Zoro!” Your jaw practically unhinged from your skull once you heard your captain’s familiar voice, all bright and cheerful like always. “We’re putting barrels in front of the door, so don’t even try breaking it down. Have a good night!” 
“Luffy? What are you—” Zoro’s knocking quickened in pace, his voice getting increasingly louder. There was no response from outside, though you could hear snickers that sounded suspiciously like Usopp. What was going on? 
You kicked into action, joining Zoro by the door and trying the door handle again. “Nami!” you yelled. 
Nami’s soft laugh came from outside. “Sorry!” she called. “We’ll let you out in the morning.”
You gaped at the door, only aware of Zoro’s gaze sliding down to you as you dropped your hand from the doorknob. There were some more tigers from outside, and then receding footsteps. Zoro tried knocking one last time, but it was evident that the rest of the crew had all but abandoned you. 
“Okay,” Zoro muttered, moving away from the door. “I need a drink.” 
You watched him move across the room, picking up a glass from his bedside table that was only slightly full. He knocked it back in one swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “Um, what now?” you asked uncomfortably. 
“Nothing. Whatever,” Zoro said, turning to glance over at you. After a moment’s thought, you noticed that he refused to look you in his eye—his gaze was firmly trained at a spot beside your head. He turned away, stripping off his sword scabbard and setting them on the floor. 
You glanced around nervously. Zoro’s room wasn’t that different from yours, really—less decorated, but the constitution was the same. There was the bed, a wardrobe, a desk with various paraphernalia across it, and a little couch in the corner too. “You can look through the closet for something to sleep in. I’ll take the chair.” 
The words didn’t register at first, and you were left standing there, staring as Zoro kicked off his shoes and assumedly started getting ready to sleep. “Um, what?” 
Zoro glanced over his shoulder. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye. “They’re not letting us out until morning,” he said slowly. “You can take the bed. Might as well sleep.” 
“It’s your room,” you started, crossing your arms. “I can sleep in the chair. I’m smaller than you, anyway, so I’ll fit it better.” 
Zoro regarded you with such a reproachful look you almost wanted to laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Change.” With that, he turned around, leaving no room for discussion. You stared at him for a second before giving up, moving to his wardrobe and opening it up to search for something to sleep in. 
“So, uh, any ideas on why they stuck us in here?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. Whatever Nami thought locking you in a room with Zoro would achieve, you were stubbornly not going to let her be right. God, you were so going to kill her once you got out of there. 
“Nope,” Zoro said, with such a degree of finality you figured it wouldn’t be safe to question him further. “They’re just stupid.” 
“I mean, I feel like they would have a motive?” You rifled through his clothes, trying very hard to detach them from their owner. Wearing Zoro’s clothes was not something you wanted your mind to linger upon. Eventually you found a shirt of his that would undoubtedly be oversized on you, and you hastily changed into it, satisfied to find it draped well to your knees so you weren’t exposing too much skin. 
You stole a glance over your shoulder at Zoro, only to catch him in the action of peeling his shirt off. The stretch of the muscles in his back gleamed in the dim light of the room, and you tore your gaze away, heat rushing to your face. “Um. Anything?” 
“Nope,” Zoro repeated. Carefully, you closed the wardrobe door, lingering in one spot with your hands clenched together. Once you heard him start moving again, you deemed it safe enough to turn towards the rest of the room. He’d changed into a loose tan shirt, and had settled back into the chair. 
“I said I’d take the chair,” you told him hotly. 
“Yeah, and I said no,” Zoro said, tone dismissive. He had his eyes closed, and you stared at him in disbelief. 
“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” you said, and then, just to emphasize your point, plopped down on the floor. Zoro cracked an eye open and stared down at you. He sighed. 
“Get up. Don’t be stupid.” 
“I’m not being stupid,” you said. “It’s your room. It’s your bed. You will sleep on it. If you’re not giving me the chair, I’ll sleep on the floor.” 
Zoro let out a long sigh, closing both his eyes as if he was contemplating all his life decisions. “I’m not sleeping in the bed, you know,” he said. 
“Okay, so neither of us do.” 
Zoro’s brows creased, and he opened his eyes to glare down at you. “Seriously? At least take the chair, then. I’ll sleep on the flo—”
You gave him a sharp look. “Zoro.” 
“This conversation isn’t getting anywhere,” Zoro muttered, and finally got up from his chair. You glanced up at him expectantly. “What can I do to convince you to take the bed?” 
“Uh, nothing.” 
“We can work out a compromise,” Zoro said with a sigh. “I want you on it, and you want me on it, and neither of us are willing to take it ourselves.” He paused, brow creasing as an idea seemed to form in his head—one he didn’t seem to be a giant fan of, but an idea nonetheless. “How about.” His lips pursed, before he parted them again to finish his sentence. “How about we both take it?” 
It felt like someone had hit you square in the chest, air kicking out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for breath. Your windpipe was all raw, and you had to fight to tear any words out from your throat. “Ex—excuse me?” 
“It’s big enough,” Zoro said stiffly, though his hands were clenched at his sides. “I can take one side and you can take the other. Since you’re so dead-set on me sleeping on it.” 
“I—” You cut yourself off, suddenly far too aware of Zoro’s eyes fixed on you. Watching your every move. Oh, Nami was in for it now. How were you supposed to survive sleeping in the same bed as—you didn’t even want to think about it. 
“Well?” Zoro prompted. 
“Fine,” you agreed hastily, ducking your head lest Zoro catch any of the flush that was undoubtedly rising steadily up your cheeks. It was bad enough you were stuck in his bedroom and wearing his clothes—but this had quickly become your own personal circle of hell. “Good enough for me.” 
“Finally.” With that, Zoro climbed into bed, settling himself on the very edge of its side. Your throat had gone dry, and you stared at him for another second before hurriedly turning away to flick the lights off. You approached the other side of the bed with an extreme lack of enthusiasm, staring at the empty sheets like they were cackling up at you. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 
Eventually you slid into the bed, busying yourself with arranging the blankets around your figure. Zoro’s breaths were steady and deep from beside you. You didn’t know what to do for a second, but then Zoro’s voice was cutting through the darkness. “You’ve been avoiding me.” 
You jolted, then suppressed your sigh. “Have not.” 
“Yes, you have, and everyone knows it, and you’re not very subtle,” Zoro said, sounding almost bored as he rattled off the words. “Why.” 
“I haven’t—”
“Don’t.” 
You ran your tongue along your teeth, sucking at the valleys between them in annoyance. “It’s not important.” 
Zoro paused before speaking, like he was mulling over asking the question. “Did I do something?” 
“What? No.” You shook your head, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see. The sound did well enough to indicate the action to him, though—he scoffed, a low murmur from his chest that buzzed through your nerves. “I don’t want to talk about this. You’re giving the rest of the crew what they want.” 
“They definitely did not lock you in here to talk about why you’re avoiding me,” Zoro muttered. Now it was your turn to scoff, because if only he knew. “Are you sure I didn’t do anything?" 
“Positive. It’s all me.” 
“Okay, so why?” Zoro prompted. You swallowed hard, trying to dodge around the subject. “Are you sure—”
“Please just stop talking,” you said, one hand reaching out to grip his arm as if the physical contact would make him shut up. There was a stagnant moment of silence, your breath catching as your brain caught up to your body. Your hand was on Zoro’s arm. Your hand was on Zoro’s bicep, and you were in his bed. 
You cleared your throat, a panicked choke bursting from your lungs. “Um.” Your eyes skittered sideways, and then you finally turned on your side to stare at him. To stare at where your hand was still clutched around his arm.
You could just barely make out the angle of his jaw in the darkness, but you could see it was clenched, the vein along his neck protruding just slightly. Hastily, you removed your hand, the skin of your fingers tingling like you could still feel him underneath the tips. “Sorry. Why—why are you so certain that you did something for me to avoid you?” 
There were a few moments of silence that ticked by, nothing but the rock of the ship interrupting it. Finally, Zoro spoke. “Because the reason they locked you in my room is because—”
“What? The reason they locked me in your room is because of me,” you said. Zoro finally moved from his position, head tilting to face yours so you were eye-to-eye. You swallowed. “Nami, um—Nami specifically forced me in here so I would… talk to you.” 
There was a question evident in Zoro’s voice. “About?” 
Your lips parted, and then closed again. “Um.” 
“We can just sleep, if you want,” Zoro muttered. 
“What if they don’t let us out in the morning because we haven’t talked, though?” you hissed. Zoro let out a low laugh. 
“You realize you’re giving them exactly what they want.” 
“So you’d be more comfortable if we just… fell asleep?” you asked. Zoro shrugged. Since you weren’t exactly averse to the idea of not confessing, you nodded in agreement, heart beating a million miles a second. “Okay. Fine by me.” 
You settled back into your pillow, but soon came to realize that, due to the fluttering butterflies in your stomach and the fact you were very aware of the man of your affections being barely a foot to your right, you could not sleep. Evidently Zoro felt the same way, because he kept shifting around under the blankets—your hands brushed against each other a few times before he jolted away like you’d burnt him. 
“Sorry,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t say anything in response. Somewhere in the back of your head, you could hear Nami hissing at you—I didn’t shove you in a room with Mr. Prince Charming just for you to not take advantage of the opportunity. You tried to get her out of your brain—it was a bad idea all around—but the words kept reverberating around in your mind until you found yourself suddenly speaking. “Zoro?” 
“Hm?” 
“Nami stuck me in here so I would tell you that, um—” 
“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro murmured, and you shivered, his voice sounding suddenly closer. You squirmed, your hand brushing against Zoro’s again, except this time it took him a delayed moment to drift away. He had gotten closer—or maybe that was you, instinctually leaning towards the dip in the middle of the bed when you’d been lost in thought. 
“The reason they locked me in here with you is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” you blurted, the words slurring together, consonants and syllables all in one rush. “Because I have them. Feelings, I mean.”
Zoro’s voice was very low when he spoke. “Excuse me?” 
You sat straight up, the blankets previously nestled around your chin falling to your waist. “I have feelings for you and that’s why everyone locked me in here.” 
“I—” Zoro coughed, and then coughed again, ridding his throat of whatever was preventing him from making full sentences. He slowly sat up, and you stared down at the blankets in your lap as you saw him rise to his full height beside you. And oh, this was it. He was about to reject you in the most excruciating, offhand manner that would probably leave you at the bottom of a barrel of rum. “That’s not possible.” 
“Why is that—” you decided to shut up instead of finishing your sentence, allowing him to speak instead. There was a soft burning starting at your skin, all red hot, and your brain buzzed, regret filling up your lungs and making it hard to breathe. 
Zoro didn’t say anything, but you heard his hand before you felt it. It slid across the bedsheets before finally resting beside yours, fingertips grazing against your knuckles. “Zoro?” you whispered. 
“The reason they locked you in here with me is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” Zoro said blankly. You blinked. It took you a moment to realize that he wasn’t just quoting you—that he hadn’t switched the pronouns accordingly. Your heart dropped. 
Your voice was very faint when you spoke. “What?” 
“I like you,” Zoro said carefully. Languidly, the words dripping off his tongue all saccharine-sweet like molasses, or honey. You shivered, your hand accidentally knocking against his, and he took the opportunity to draw it in closer, fingers pushing up your palm, just a hair’s breadth away from interlacing with yours. “Luffy unfortunately found out. He doesn’t know how to keep a secret and told the rest of the crew.” 
You gaped at him. “I like you,” you said, dumbfounded. You could feel yourself trembling, fingers sliding against Zoro’s hand with every shake. “Nami yanked it out of me. Which is why I’ve been avoiding you for the past week.” 
“I thought you were avoiding me because you found out I liked you,” Zoro muttered. His fingertips brushed against the pads of your hand, and you swallowed, mouth all dry. “So.” 
You tentatively lifted your gaze, finding Zoro’s eyes even amidst the darkness. They were shining, a slight glint from the moon coming in through the window reflecting along the shadows of his face. Carefully, his hand slid fully into yours, fingers lacing together, and it was like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place. 
Zoro slid back down onto his back, tugging you along with him. You settled back on your pillow, using your other hand to pull the blankets back over your chest. For a full stagnant minute the two of you lay there, hands intertwined in the space between. 
You were the one who made the first move, then, thumb running up and down the length of his index finger. Zoro ran with the action, tugging your hand just slightly until you were leaning into the dip of the mattress, gravity pulling you closer to his body. 
He lifted your entwined hands, tugging you towards him until your back was pressed right to his chest. Then he settled your arms back down again, the back of his palm resting against your belly. 
You swallowed hard, able to hear the sound of your throat in the utter silence. Zoro exhaled, his breath softly brushing against your neck. “Good night,” you whispered. 
Zoro pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, a ghost of something that left tingles fluttering down your spine, the drunken butterflies in your stomach swaying at the action. “Good night,” he murmured, and your breath caught. 
He was warm, oh so warm, like a campfire with licks of flame that softened your hands in the dead of night. And even though you wanted to speak up, question when he’d started liking you, if he was lying or not—you were content to stay here in his arms and drift off to sleep.
So you did, settling back into his embrace with your head spinning and senses murmuring, all dizzy like you were caught in a dream. Eventually, your tiredness got the better of you, and you felt your senses fading as the world around you darkened to black. 
The two of you jolted awake to the knocking and the very unpleasant hum of Nami’s voice. “Rise and shine!” she called through the door, and you blinked, bleary eyes adjusting to the light as you suppressed your yawn. 
Zoro jolted up beside you, practically giving you whiplash as his arm was still comfortably around your waist. Your fingers tingled, and you realized that you’d fallen asleep with your hands laced together. 
“Nami,” you grumbled, about to rise out of bed before Zoro stopped you. You turned towards him in question, only to stop short as you registered the look in his eyes. His gaze was deep, piercing; those butterflies rose up again in your stomach, apparently awake after they’d passed out from their drunken stupor. You swallowed. “Hi?” 
“Hey,” he murmured. “They locked you in my room.” 
“I’m going to knock Nami over the head with a rowboat oar,” you said blandly, eyes flickering towards the door, which Nami was still pounding on. You vaguely heard shuffling sounds, like the crew were working to move the barrels they’d stuck in front of the door to free you from your prison. “You can have the rest of them, if you want.” 
“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Zoro agreed. “But first…” 
“First?” you prompted. 
Zoro brought your hands—still intertwined—to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss along your knuckles. “Good morning,” he said, voice low and awkward, like he wasn’t used to letting the words out of his mouth. He let your hands drift to his lap, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours.
A faint sigh escaped your lips when he finally kissed you. It wasn’t rough or hard; it was a soft press, like your hands had been just a few hours ago. There was a degree of finality to it; a held-in breath that’d exhaled from your lungs, one you hadn’t realized was building up that much pressure until you finally let it all go. 
The door flung open, and you jolted away, but Zoro tilted your head back towards him before you could. At the mouth of the room, Luffy had started screaming. “Aww,” Nami cooed. Behind her, Usopp and Sanji were gripping onto each other like they were watching a particularly engaging fight. 
A steady blush rose along your cheeks, but Zoro was absolutely shameless, the hand not held in yours raising up to give them the finger. “Get out of my room.”
“Told you it’d be okay,” Nami sing-songed, and then you really did break away from Zoro, picking up the object nearest to you and barrelling towards her. She shrieked, dodging out of the doorway as Zoro laughed from behind you.
“Wait!” she stopped you from whacking your pillow against her head, raising up her arms in defense. “I was right. I saw you two—” 
“Nami,” you started, dangerously low. “You locked me in his room.”
“Yeah, to help you!” she cried defensively, slowly taking backwards steps as you gained on her. “Come on. We can talk about this.” 
“Good luck,” Zoro called out from behind you—you turned around, catching his gaze. He had gotten up, leaning against the doorway and watching you with a sparkle of fondness in his eye. “You’ll need it.” 
You blew him a kiss, ignoring the long groan it pulled out of Luffy from beside Zoro in the hallway. And then you turned around. Nami had darted off, taking the time you’d been distracted to run off. “Oh no you don’t!” you yelled, and then lunged after her with Zoro laughing all the while. 
Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad thing, you thought. But you were still going to beat Nami’s ass. 
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