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fluff-lover · 4 months ago

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Healing Touch | Chapter 2: Broken Hearts

Logan Howlet x fem!Reader

Story summary: You’re a new member of the X-Men. Your mutation allows you to heal other people: you can close any wound, and cure any sickness. You’re not a fighter at all, but you’re useful at the battle field when it comes to saving injured mutants.

The one thing you can’t heal? It’s a broken heart. Sadly, that’s exactly what Logan needs: in love with a woman who doesn't love him back, and only having pieces of a broken past, Logan needs all the help he can get. He’s too stubborn to ask, but you make it your mission to be there for him.

Masterlist

Being in love with someone who is in love with someone else is hard enough, but living in the same house? That's straight up masochism.

Jean made it clear, she would never leave Scott, and Logan knew better than to try and get between them. He loved her too much to cause her trouble anyway. He wanted her to be happy. But that didn’t make it any easier to watch them carry on a happy, healthy relationship. To wake up every morning to an empty bed, knowing the woman he loved was just a few doors away, in the arms of another man… it was too much sometimes, his only comfort being at the end of a bottle.

He knew that if he wanted to move on from Jean, he needed to leave the mansion. There was no way he would stop loving her if he kept seeing her everyday. But on the other hand he couldn’t leave, not now that he finally felt like home, not when he felt he owed his life to Charles and his cause. There were other people in his life he cared about. His Rouge, Hank, Ororo… you…

Leaving wasn’t an option.

You knew exactly what he was going through, because you felt the same way about him.

Falling in love with Logan was easy. He was handsome, strong, brave, he was kind to you and protective of the students. He kept training you to fight and was always ready to lend a hand whenever you needed something.

Some nights when he couldn’t fall asleep you would stay with him and you would watch tv or walk around the garden, maybe even go out for a drink. Most of the time you would sit on a bench in the garden and just enjoy the evening sky.

At the beginning he was very quiet and getting him to open up to you took time, but eventually you reached a point where you could stay up all night talking about anything and everything, as long as it wasn’t too personal. Soon you two formed a beautiful friendship. You wanted more, but Ororo warned you about his infatuation with Jean.

You didn’t know what hurt the most: watching him in love with someone else, or watching him get his heart broken.

If he gave you a chance you would love him unconditionally. That is if he even let himself be loved. He was so firmly convinced he didn’t deserve love, you doubted he would fully open up to someone. Even if Jean were to leave Scott for him, would Logan stay? Would he accept her love? Jean said it herself: the good guy sticks around.

Logan didn’t know how to love, or how to BE loved. Simple things like wrapping your arm around his as you walked together, or giving him a little gift felt like defusing a bomb. He didn’t know what to do with himself, he didn’t know how to act when he received any form of affection. It put him on edge.

One time he mentioned he lost his lighter, so you went out and got him a new one. It was such a silly little thing, yet it threw him off completely. He stared at the lighter that rested on his big palm as if it was a foreigner object. All while you watched him awkwardly.

“You don’t like it?” You asked nervously.

“I do.” He mumbled before clearing his throat. “Thanks.” Then he put it in his pocket and walked away, leaving you standing there confused.

Logan didn’t talk to you for three days after that. Not because he was mad at you, he just couldn’t remember the last time someone gifted him something and he didn’t know what to do. You were convinced he hated it, but you were far from right: you had no idea how much he actually appreciated it, loved it even. Every night when Logan stepped outside to a balcony to smoke a cigar, he would run his thumb across the engraving and think of you. The hopeful look in your eyes etched in his memory. You were such a sweet thing, he didn’t know why you bother spending time with him, let alone buy him a present.

You let him have his space, and by the fourth day he came by your room to ask you if you wanted a ride for your next trip to the hospital. The way your face lit up made Logan promise himself he would do better for you, that he would be a better friend because you deserved it.

And then shit hit the fan.

It was a Saturday night and most teachers were hanging out in the common area, talking and sharing snacks. You and Logan were sitting next to each other having a couple of beers and sharing a bowl of nachos, when Jean and Scott walked in, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“How was date night?” Ororo asked with a cheeky smile. Jean smiled widely and showed her hand, a beautiful ring resting on her finger.

“We’re engaged!” She announced while Scott smiled proudly. The room erupted in cheers.

“Congratulations!” “About time!” “You finally popped the question, Summers!” “You guys are so cute together!” There was no doubt Jean and Scott were the “IT” couple in the mansion. Everyone took turns to congratulate and hug the couple, yourself included. You were happy for them, you knew they loved each other very much and wished them a long, happy life together. But you also dreaded how this announcement would affect Logan.

Just as you predicted, he was hurt by it, and while everyone celebrated the couple, you saw him get up and leave the room in a hurry.

You shared a concerned look with Hank and Ororo. You knew what they were thinking: if anyone could comfort him, it was you.

When you walked out the room Logan was nowhere to be seen. The first place you checked was his room, but he either wasn’t there, or he was refusing to open the door. After pondering for a moment, you decided to check outside.

Logan sat on a bench. Your bench. The one you two would sit together whenever he had a nightmare, when he wanted a smoke, or simply be with you.

When you found him, he had his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, and your heart broke for him. You approached him quietly, but his voice made you stop.

“Go away.” He grumbled.

You sighed and stood there for a moment, debating whether you should leave or push your luck a little bit more.

“It’s a free country.” You finally said before sitting down next to him. Logan groaned and straightened on the bench. He knew he wasn’t getting rid of you: you were an annoyingly good friend.

Neither of you said anything for a moment. What could you possibly say? Instead you threw a leg over the bench, so you were fully facing him, and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Pulling him gently towards you, you pressed his side against your chest. Logan instantly leaned on you and rested his head on your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Logan.” You whispered, your cheek pressed against the back of his head. “I know what it feels like to be in love with someone who loves someone else.” You said, leaving out the part where he was the one causing you this pain.

Logan couldn’t remember the last time he was comforted like this. For the first time ever he didn’t fight it. His strong front cracked and he let himself melt against you, too tired and weary to keep fighting his feelings.

“Tell me what I can do to help.” You whispered and felt Logan shake his head against your shoulder.

“This. Just this.” He replied in a low, gravelly voice.

You sat there like this for a while in complete silence, forgotten to the rest of the world, the moon being your only witness. Your hand rubbed soothing circles on Logan’s back, and if it wasn’t because you were so worried about him you would’ve tried to soak in the feeling of him in your arms.

“You know… The one thing I wish I could heal the most is the one thing my powers can’t heal.” You pulled back and Logan straightened again, this time looking back at you.

“What’s that?” He asked.

You placed your hand on his cheek lovingly and smiled sadly.

“A broken heart.” You whispered.

Logan closed his eyes and sighed. He knew that if there was any way you could take his pain away, you would do it. You were so selfless, always wanting to help people around you.

“You really are an angel, aren’t you? Is there any time of the day you’re not ridiculously kind?” He joked.

“I see you still have your sense of humor, that’s good.” You joked back. “You gonna be okay?”

Logan nodded his head.

“I’ll live.” He answered. “Could use a drink, tho.”

“Alright, let’s go!” You said before getting up from the bench and offering him your hand.

“Where are we going?” He asked, confused.

“To get you a drink and get me some ice cream.” You replied with a wide smile.

Logan chuckled and shook his head.

“Let’s go get you that ice cream then, Angel.” He said as he took your hand and stood up.

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #logan x reader #wolverine #wolverine x fem!reader #wolverine x female reader #logan howlett x y/n #james logan howlett x reader #Healing touch

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santaasi · 4 months ago

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santa doesn’t know you like i do

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: in the warmth of christmas, amidst love, healing, and a new beginning, jj and you find your imperfect paradise, where home is wherever you're together

warnings: fluff fluff fluff, establish relationship, talking about kids, no use of y/n, jj calls reader angel, english isn’t my first language

word count: 5.4k

a/n: it's kinda part two to die with the smile. but I think you can read it as a stand alone. requested by this ask. thank u for request, love <з.

ᯓ★ now playing…

sabrina carpenter – santa doesn't know you like I do

Santa Doesn't know you like I do I've been there through the good and bad Know how to make you laugh Kiss all your tears away, babe Ooh, only I can do that

JJ MAYBANK ALWAYS LOVED CHRISTMAS. It was, perhaps, the only holiday that truly felt magical to him. The colorful lights that danced against the dark winter nights, the shop windows adorned with glittering displays, the endless loop of silly Christmas songs filling the air — each element wove a comforting cocoon of warmth around him. Christmas had a way of making the world seem softer, more forgiving, and in those moments, JJ could almost believe in something like peace.

But it hadn’t always been this way.

In the broken Maybank household, Christmas was just another day — unmarked, unnoticed, and devoid of joy. The house sat like an unlit beacon in a sea of festivity, its cold walls and empty halls an unspoken testament to everything JJ lacked. There were no strings of lights, no wreaths on the door, not even the faintest scent of pine. It was an iceberg of indifference, floating through a season of cheer.

His father rarely even bothered to come home during Christmas. Sometimes he was locked away, serving another term; other times, he was lost in some forgotten corner of a bar, drowning his bitterness in cheap whiskey, unaware — or perhaps unconcerned — that his son was alone.

Yet, despite it all, every Christmas morning, there was always something waiting for JJ. Beneath the sad excuse for a tree — a cactus he’d once rescued from the roadside and jokingly dubbed "the Maybank pine" — he’d find a small gift and a postcard. The presents were modest: a toy car from a roadside stall or a bag of store-brand candy. The cards bore messages scribbled in rushed handwriting, sometimes just his name. But to JJ, they were everything. Those tiny, clumsy gestures felt like a fragile thread connecting him to something hopeful, something magical.

Even in the coldest, loneliest moments of his childhood, Christmas held onto him. It was his reminder that even in a life as messy and cruel as his, there could still be flickers of wonder.

But as the years passed, the childish magic of Christmas began to fade. JJ found himself watching from the sidelines as families like John B’s, Pope’s, and Kiara’s gathered around large tables, their homes alive with laughter, love, and the glow of holiday cheer. He watched them string lights and hang delicate ornaments on real Christmas trees — the kind that had once mesmerized him through storefront windows. And as much as he tried to bury it, a quiet ache settled deep in his chest.

It wasn’t just envy. It was the sharp sting of absence, a longing for something he’d never truly had. JJ had never known the comfort of a family coming together, the warmth of being part of something whole. He’d never sat at a big table on Christmas Eve, hands joined in prayer, giving thanks for love and blessings. He’d never felt the security of being surrounded by people who cared for him simply because he existed. And though he masked the pain behind his signature grin and easy bravado, it festered inside him — a quiet storm of hurt and resentment.

He wanted what they had. He wanted it desperately. But instead, his Christmases were spent alone. A pack of chips served as his feast, the flickering light of a static-filled TV his only companion. Lying on his bed, he would flip through the sparse free channels, hoping for some distraction, some escape. And always, in the back of his mind, he clung to the faintest hope that come morning, he’d find a small gift beneath the cactus — his father’s feeble, unspoken attempt at connection.

For years, this was his Christmas: quiet, lonely, and hollow.

But then, one year, everything changed.

JJ was fourteen when his father was imprisoned for the first time for an extended period, leaving him utterly alone. John B. and his father did what they could to help, but JJ bristled at the idea of being anyone’s charity case. The weight of feeling indebted was too much for him to bear. That summer, he decided to fend for himself, searching for his first job.

It wasn’t easy. JJ quickly discovered that no one wanted to hire a scrappy, imperfect Pogue with a tarnished family name. The shadow of his father’s reputation loomed large over the island, and people assumed that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. He could still recall the sting of rejection, the way doors closed in his face, and the cold, judgmental eyes that dismissed him before he even had a chance to speak. With each failure, his hope dwindled, until desperation weighed heavy on his young shoulders.

And then, like a ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds, your father entered his life.

JJ often saw him at the docks, heading out for early-morning fishing trips. A few times, when the catch was plentiful, your father had even handed JJ a couple of fish — no questions asked, no pity in his eyes. Your family wasn’t wealthy like the Camerons, but you weren’t struggling at the bottom of the Cut either. You lived modestly, running a small fishmonger’s shop that was well-loved by locals for its unmatched quality.

That day, as JJ sat dejectedly on the pier, contemplating yet another fruitless search, your father approached him. With a kind smile and no hesitation, he offered JJ a job. Weekend mornings spent fishing, helping with traps and unloading — the kind of honest work JJ had been searching for. It felt like a lifeline, a stroke of fortune for a fourteen-year-old boy who had nearly given up.

From that moment, your father became more than an employer. He became a steady presence in JJ’s life, someone who saw the good in him when others refused to look past the Maybank name. In time, he even became a friend — a surrogate father in ways JJ hadn’t realized he desperately needed.

Your family’s kindness extended beyond the job. Your father often invited JJ to join your family dinners, but JJ rarely accepted. The idea of intruding on something so warm and whole made him uncomfortable. He already felt like he owed your father too much, and the last thing he wanted was to overstep. Still, on the rare occasions when your mother’s insistence won out, JJ would find himself sitting at your table, silently marveling at the life you lived.

And then there was you.

At every dinner, JJ’s eyes inevitably found you. You were radiant, an unapproachable beauty that reminded him of the star atop a Christmas tree — brilliant and captivating, yet forever out of reach. The two of you didn’t talk much, just polite exchanges and fleeting smiles, but it was enough. For JJ, it was more than enough.

He fell for you quietly, deeply, and without reservation. To him, you were a dream — a glimpse of something he could never quite have but couldn’t help but long for.

But one day, everything changed — and with it, JJ’s love for Christmas was born.

It was the same year, during the heart of winter. JJ wandered aimlessly through the deserted streets of Kildare, his hands buried deep in his pockets as the howling sea wind tugged at his threadbare jacket. Shop windows, darkened in honor of the holiday, glimmered faintly with leftover lights, their cheerful displays feeling like a world apart from his reality. Everyone else was inside, basking in the warmth of family and celebration. His friends were home — John B. spending the day with his father, Pope and Kiara with their own families — while JJ walked the streets, searching for something he couldn’t name, a place where he belonged.

His own house was cold and hollow, a silent reminder of all he didn’t have. John B. had invited him over, but JJ declined, unwilling to intrude on his friend’s rare moments of peace with his dad. So, he drifted through the morning, each step pulling him deeper into an abyss of loneliness.

A sudden chime shattered his thoughts — the soft jingle of a shop bell as its door swung open. JJ looked up, his breath catching as the sound of laughter echoed down the street.

It was you.

You stepped out of the grocery store with your dad, your voice lilting with a joy that made the bleak morning feel brighter. A red knit hat perched on your head, mirroring the one your father wore, and you both sported matching festive pajama sets. The sight was almost absurdly charming, but to JJ, you looked radiant — more beautiful than ever. The soft sunlight seemed to halo around you, making you seem like an angel come to life.

As if sensing his gaze, you turned toward him and waved, your smile lighting up the frosty morning. JJ’s heart stuttered, and before he could fully process it, you were already standing in front of him, your breath visible in the chill air, your cheeks flushed pink.

“Merry Christmas, Jay,” you said warmly, tilting your head slightly. A strand of hair escaped from beneath your hat, brushing your face. JJ had to fight the overwhelming urge to reach out, to tuck it back behind your ear.

“Merry Christmas, angel,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them. It was only when he saw the faint blush dust your cheeks, your gaze darting downward with a shy smile, that he realized what he’d called you.

“We... my dad and I were thinking,” you began hesitantly, your voice a little rushed, “do you want to spend Christmas with us?”

JJ blinked, caught off guard.

You bit your lip nervously, shifting your weight. “We haven’t opened presents yet, and Mom made that cherry pudding you love, and we always watch a movie after that and-”

You were rambling, your nose wrinkling slightly as you spoke, and JJ couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t want to impose, didn’t want to accept and risk feeling like a burden. But the nervous hope in your voice, the way you avoided his eyes as though bracing for rejection, made it impossible to refuse.

“Thank you. With pleasure,” he interrupted softly, his smile widening.

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, wide with surprise, and then they lit up with excitement. Before JJ could react, you grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the car with a burst of enthusiasm. “He said yes, Dad!” you called out, beaming.

That Christmas was the best of JJ’s life.

The warmth of the fireplace, the soft glow of the Christmas tree, the unexpected gifts waiting under its branches — all of it was magical. But none of it compared to the feeling of being part of something he’d always longed for. Sitting with your family, sharing laughter and stories, tasting your mom’s cherry pudding, JJ felt something he hadn’t dared to dream of: belonging.

And then there was you.

You, who had reached out when no one else had. You, who had brought him in from the cold, both outside and within. You, who had become his Christmas angel, saving him with your kindness and warmth. That day, you didn’t just give JJ a happy holiday — you gave him a family.

You became his home.

And now, JJ sat on the bed in the bedroom you shared, in the house you’d built together — not the grand mansion with big windows and a sprawling garden he had once promised you under a starlit sky, but a modest, white, slightly weathered two-story home. It had a cozy front yard with space for flowers yet to be planted and a back door that opened onto the soft sands of the beach. It wasn’t the picture-perfect dream you once painted together, but it was real. It was yours.

This house had become his sanctuary. Each day, he came home to your arms, finding solace in your laughter and warmth. Each morning, he woke beside you, basking in the light of a love that grounded him. And tonight, you would celebrate your first Christmas in the home you’d built — not just of wood and stone, but of trust and shared dreams. It wasn’t perfect. Neither were you. But it was home.

For JJ, it was more than he had ever thought he could have. The boy who once wandered lonely streets at Christmas, who stared longingly at shop windows and dreamed of belonging, had found it here — with you. The memory of those cold, empty nights and his childhood filled with longing still lingered at the edges of his mind, but they no longer haunted him. You had rewritten his story, replacing loneliness with joy and pain with purpose.

He glanced toward the living room and leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched you bustle back and forth between the kitchen and dining room. You were radiant, your hair cascading down your back in soft waves as the skirt of your red dress shimmered with each step. A familiar Santa hat perched on your head, the same one you wore on the Christmas that changed everything—the one where you gave him the gift of belonging for the first time.

The air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of the turkey roasting in the oven, mingling with the faint, sweet scent of pine from the decorated tree in the corner. Your favorite Christmas playlist hummed in the background, and you hummed along softly as you worked, pausing to adjust the napkins on the table with a perfectionist’s touch. JJ’s lips curled into a smile. You were always like this, always striving to make things special for everyone else, pouring your heart into the smallest details.

He could see the excitement in your every movement — the way your cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the kitchen, the way your eyes sparkled with anticipation. It reminded him of the first time he saw you that Christmas morning years ago, standing on the icy street in your matching pajamas with your dad. Back then, you had invited him into your family, into your world, without hesitation. Now, here you were, creating that same magic, not just for him but for the friends you both cherished.

JJ felt his chest tighten with gratitude. He didn’t need the mansion or the grand promises anymore. He didn’t need a perfectly landscaped garden or the white picket fence. He already had everything he’d ever dreamed of — and more. You were his dream, his home, his Christmas angel.

Pushing off the doorframe, he walked toward you, his steps soft against the wooden floor. You didn’t notice him at first, too focused on the final touches of the table. But when he slid his arms around your waist from behind, you let out a small gasp, laughing as you turned to look up at him.

“Jay,” you chided playfully, though your smile gave you away.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as he breathed you in — the scent of cinnamon, the faint traces of your perfume, the essence of you. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection, “you don’t have to do all this. It’s already perfect.”

You shook your head, a strand of hair falling into your face, which he gently tucked behind your ear. “I just want it to be special,” you said softly.

“It is,” he said firmly, his blue eyes locking onto yours. “Because of you. Everything you touch becomes special.”

Your cheeks flushed deeper, and you bit your lip, momentarily speechless. JJ smiled, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. The chaos of the kitchen faded, the playlist in the background becoming nothing more than a faint hum. In that moment, there was only the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of the home you’d built and the love that had carried you here.

As if jolted from a dream, you broke the kiss and stepped back slightly, your hands pressed firmly against JJ's chest. His heartbeat thrummed under your palms, steady and sure. You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your brows furrowed in a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“JJ,” you scolded softly, your voice tinged with urgency. “This isn’t the time. The Pogues are gonna be here soon, and we’re not even close to ready!”

JJ’s lips curved into that infuriatingly smug grin of his, the one that made your heart race despite yourself. He leaned back as if he hadn’t a care in the world, his eyes flicking upward with deliberate mischief.

“Relax, angel,” he drawled, his voice warm as honey, smooth as the waves lapping the Cut. “It’s tradition. Had to honor it.”

Your gaze followed his, and you gasped. A cluster of mistletoe hung innocently above you, tied with a red ribbon that swayed gently in the air. You turned back to him, jaw dropping, and gave his chest a light shove.

“When the hell did you do that, Maybank?” you asked, laughing despite yourself.

He shrugged, a picture of nonchalance. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is you’re under it, so-” He grinned wider, tugging you back a step. “Less talking, more kissing.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back your smile. “You’re impossible.”

Yet even as you said it, your lips met his again, soft and lingering. Kissing JJ was like freefalling into the ocean, exhilarating and all-consuming, like the scent of salt air in the morning or the taste of wild blackberries in summer. He was chaos wrapped in warmth, the kind of boy who made you believe in stars aligning and fates intertwining.

As his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of your lips, you felt the world tilt for a moment. It was easy to forget the chaos of the house, the mess still to be cleaned, the impending arrival of your friends. But you forced yourself to pull away just as he began to deepen the kiss.

“Uh-uh,” you teased, breathless but resolute. “Get busy, Maybank. We’ve got work to do.”

JJ groaned dramatically, his pout almost childlike as he tightened his grip on your waist. “I am busy. Busy kissing the prettiest girl in the Outer Banks,” he purred, his lips brushing against your cheek, then trailing to your neck.

“JJ,” you protested weakly, though your hand found its way into his hair, tugging lightly at the golden strands.

Before he could retort, the sharp chime of the doorbell broke the spell.

You froze, your brows knitting together. “What the-” you murmured, glancing at the clock. It was still an hour before Sarah and John B. were supposed to show up. Kiara was stuck at the diner until late, and Pope and Cleo were busy helping out at the store.

Your eyes snapped to JJ, who was now grinning like the cat who’d caught the canary.

“What did you do?” you demanded, narrowing your eyes.

His smile only widened, his blue eyes sparkling with a secret he wasn’t ready to share. “Guess you’ll just have to find out, angel.”

It wasn’t good. Not one bit.

“Go on, angel. Open the door,” JJ said, his voice low and teasing as he let you slip from his arms, giving you a gentle nudge toward the entryway.

You turned back to him, eyebrows raised in suspicion. His smirk was maddening, and his ocean-blue eyes sparkled with mischief, like he knew something you didn’t. “JJ…” you warned, taking slow, hesitant steps.

“Trust me, angel,” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed. The way he looked at you — like you were the only thing that mattered in the world — made your heart skip. His eyes always held that same soft, unspoken promise, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spreading through your chest.

Biting your lip, you reached for the doorknob, casting him one last skeptical glance before opening the door. The cool winter air rushed in, bringing with it the scent of pine and saltwater from the sea just down the road. At first, you saw nothing unusual — just the empty driveway, lined with snow that glimmered faintly in the moonlight, and the quiet stillness of the evening. But then, something shifted near your feet.

You froze. The soft sound of rustling paper followed by the creak of a box wobbled slightly on the porch. You jumped back with a startled squeal, your pulse racing. “JJ! JJ!” you called out, your voice a mix of fear and excitement. “There’s… something out here!”

Your eyes darted to the object on the porch — a large box tied with a perfect red bow. It didn’t move at first, but as you took a tentative step closer, the box wobbled again, and a muffled noise came from inside.

Behind you, JJ’s laugh rang out, low and warm, like he was thoroughly enjoying your reaction. “Relax, angel. It’s not gonna bite… much,” he teased, the grin on his face devilishly charming. You could almost hear the glint of mischief in his voice as it wrapped around you, tugging at your nerves.

You whipped around to glare at him, your arms crossing instinctively over your chest. “This is your doing, isn’t it? What is it, JJ?”

His grin widened. “Why don’t you open it and find out?” he said, shrugging like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Pretty sure Santa dropped off an early delivery for you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, still skeptical, but the curiosity was too strong to resist. Slowly, you lowered yourself to your knees, inching closer to the box. Another sound came from inside — a soft, almost pleading whine that made your heart skip a beat. You shivered, but couldn't stop your hands from reaching for the bow. Your fingers trembled slightly as you untied it, the red ribbon falling away like the final barrier between you and whatever lay inside.

“JJ, if this thing jumps out and eats my face, I swear-”

“Just open it, angel,” he said, crouching beside you now, his voice soft and coaxing, like he was trying to keep you calm, though you knew he was just enjoying the show. You could feel his breath tickling the back of your neck, his presence so close that it made your skin heat up despite the cold night air.

With trembling fingers, you tugged the bow loose. The moment it fell away, the lid popped open with a gentle creak, and out came a tiny white muzzle, followed by two shiny black eyes that sparkled like polished onyx. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand.

“No way…” you whispered, your heart racing as the fluffy creature let out a tiny bark, its tail wagging furiously, causing the box to shake slightly.

JJ chuckled beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder, his laughter warm and full of pride. “Told you Santa came through this year.” His voice was teasing, but there was something deeper there too — a tenderness that you didn’t always hear. It was the same tenderness that had drawn you to him all those years ago, when everything in his life had been so broken, but he had found a way to build something together with you. The soft thrum of your heart matched the beat of his, and it felt like time had stopped just for you two, here in this small moment of joy.

You turned to him, your eyes wide. “You said no dogs. You said the house wasn’t ready!”

JJ shrugged, completely unbothered, his grin stretching wider, a glint of mischievous pride dancing in his gaze. “Guess I lied. Couldn’t resist, angel. I mean, look at him.” He leaned forward, his finger brushing against the puppy’s tiny, soft ears. “He’s got ‘JJ Maybank’ written all over him.”

The puppy let out another excited yip, struggling to climb out of the box. Gently, you lifted him, his soft fur warm in your hands. His tiny paws pressed against your chest as he wiggled excitedly, licking your face with reckless abandon, causing you to giggle uncontrollably.

You laughed, the sound light and free, the way it hadn’t been in years, your heart so full it could’ve burst. “Oh my God, JJ. He’s perfect.”

JJ watched you with a lazy smile, leaning closer to press a kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering there just a moment longer than usual. “I think he’s already got a favorite human,” he teased, brushing your hair behind your ear with a tenderness that made you feel as if the entire world had stopped just for you two.

You cradled the little ball of fluff in your arms, his tiny paws pressing against your chest as he snuggled closer, his warmth filling the empty spaces of your heart. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t care. For the first time in a long while, you felt whole — like all the pieces of your life had finally clicked into place. You looked back at JJ, your voice soft and filled with gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your heart swelling as his smile deepened.

“Anything for you, angel,” he murmured, his hand brushing over yours as he leaned in to kiss you again. It wasn’t a kiss full of urgency or passion this time, but one that was slower, deeper — full of a love that had built up over years of quiet moments, of shared dreams, of both the good and bad times that had shaped you. A kiss that spoke of promises made and promises kept.

His arms were wrapped around your waist, his fingers tracing slow, soothing patterns along the back of your neck as the soft, playful puppy nestled in your lap. The warm weight of the small creature was a perfect contrast to the warmth of JJ’s body pressed against yours. He kissed the delicate curve of your neck, his lips lingering as if he could never get enough of you. He moved to your cheek, then your cheekbone, leaving a trail of tenderness that sent shivers down your spine.

You turned in his arms, your lips finding his in a kiss that spoke volumes. It wasn’t hurried, it wasn’t filled with desperation — no, this kiss was full of everything you’d wanted, everything you had built, everything you had fought for. After everything that had happened in Morocco, the terror, the near loss of him, you never thought you'd find this peace, this quiet joy. But here you were, wrapped in his embrace, feeling more alive than ever.

After that incident, after the nightmare of nearly losing him, JJ had changed. He was different. More gentle, more mindful of your every need, and more focused on building a life with you. You had always known he loved you, always felt the weight of his affection even when he didn’t say it aloud, but now — now it was deeper, tenfold. His love was a constant, a steady presence that made you feel safe in a world that had once felt like it was falling apart. And it was enough. More than enough.

His lips met yours again, soft and slow, each kiss full of meaning, of promises he’d made to himself to make you the happiest woman in the world. And as he kissed you, he whispered against your lips, his voice rough with emotion.

“I love you,” he said, each word wrapping around your heart like a warm blanket.

You smiled, your chest swelling with love as you pulled him closer. The puppy, now content in its new home, wandered around the living room, sniffing at the new surroundings with an inquisitive gleam in his eyes. You didn’t care that the front door was wide open or that you were making out on the living room floor, in full view of anyone who might pass by. There was no one else in the world but JJ and the life you were building together. You just wanted to show him, to remind him, how much you loved him. How much you appreciated him.

“What's the next step?” you teased, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes. Your hands, without thinking, brushed a lock of blond hair away from his forehead, your heart fluttering as you took in the depth of his gaze. “A house, a dog... what's the next thing in our list?” You giggled, the sound light and free, like a melody you could listen to forever.

JJ’s smile deepened, and his voice softened, filled with a warmth that had once been so foreign to him. “Oh, that’s easy. A mini you or a mini me — or a mini us,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear before he kissed you again, this time with a little more passion. You shivered at the thought of what he wanted — a family. Your family.

The idea of children, of a future together, made your heart race. It wasn’t a dream you had ever imagined for yourself. But now, with JJ, it felt right. It felt like it was meant to be.

“But first,” he continued, his voice playful as he broke the kiss, “we deal with this dog, because it seems to me he’s already gnawing on our pillow.”

You laughed, shaking your head, your heart full as you watched the puppy eagerly attack the pink pillow you had bought from the flea market, its fluffy stuffing spilling out onto the floor. The mess didn’t bother you, not at all. You were too caught up in the joy of the moment, in the warmth of JJ’s arms around your waist, in the paradise you had built.

It wasn’t perfect. The house was small, a little worn around the edges, but it was yours. Your home. A place where laughter and love filled the air, where memories were made, and where the future you dreamed of was slowly taking shape. It was paradise. Small, imperfect, but paradise all the same. And you couldn’t have asked for anything more.

But then, something shifted. You smelled it before you saw it — the faint scent of something burning, sharp and sudden. Your heart skipped a beat, and your eyes snapped open as the realization hit you.

“Damn, Jay, the turkey!” you exclaimed, your eyes widening in panic as you bolted upright, the puppy’s ears perked up in alarm as you scrambled to your feet.

JJ laughed, deep and carefree, lying back on the floor as he watched you rush toward the kitchen. He felt like the happiest man on earth, like everything in the world had finally fallen into place. But as you disappeared into the kitchen, he let his mind wander for a moment, and he couldn’t help but think back to the time before all of this.

Back to the dark days when Morocco had nearly torn you apart, when you had held him in your arms, desperate, praying he would survive. You had nightmares for weeks after, haunted by the memory of him almost slipping away from you forever. The weight of that fear had lingered, thick and suffocating, even after you returned to Kildare, when everything should have felt safe again. But it hadn’t been easy. It had taken time. It had taken effort. It had taken healing.

You both had scars from that experience. You, from the sleepless nights and the anxiety that gripped your heart whenever you thought about the what-ifs. And JJ, from the deep, quiet trauma that you knew he didn’t always talk about. But despite all of that, you had found your way back to each other. You had found peace. Together.

Now, as he lay there on the floor, listening to the sound of your frantic steps in the kitchen, he smiled softly to himself. The memories of Morocco were still there, lingering in the background, but they no longer defined him. No longer defined you together. You had rebuilt your paradise, and no amount of darkness could take that away.

JJ Maybank had always been reckless, wild, untamed. But now, he was grounded. Not because the world had suddenly become perfect, but because you were his. Because he had found his anchor in you. You were his home. And no matter what happened, he knew you would always be there, side by side.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the peace of the present wash over him. There was no place he’d rather be. No place but here, with you. His family. His paradise.

And for Christmas, that was all he could ever ask for.

The smell of burning turkey wafted in from the kitchen, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe paradise wasn’t perfect, but damn, it was perfect for him.

thankx for reading <3

it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

okay, this work my first kinda christmas special and I like it so much. also 'santa doesn't know you like I do' is such a beautiful song and maybe the meaning of the song is not connected to the whole vibe of this work but first lines is so jj and angel coded, idk.

but thank you again for reading my work and as usual you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

– your santi 🪐

masterlist

#– santi 🪐#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank fluff #obx x reader #obx fanfiction

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cosmicbucky · 1 year ago

Text

verity

summary: an inadvertently broken heart and a girls' night in can only lead to one thing: you drunkenly confronting the very man who broke your heart in the first place - aka your best friend, bucky barnes pairing: bucky barnes x female reader word count: 3253

warnings: angst, alcohol consumption, reader gets drunk with friends, pet names, sad bucky, sad reader, drunk confessions, swearing, misunderstandings, reader gets sick (vomit), fluff, kinda friends to lovers (??)

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

The music flowed through the living room around you, quiet enough to not overpower the conversations you were having with your friends, but loud enough for you to know what you were swaying in your seat to.

It had been a while since you had a girls' night, though you were all but forced into this one; it was made clear by Nat that your presence was not an option - you were the only reason you were all gathered here now, each of you at least a bottle or two in.

At first you resisted. You wanted nothing more than to wallow alone in your room, watching trash TV and crying over cheesy scenes. It wasn't that you didn't love the company you had right now, you just wanted other company. You wanted the same company you had every day for the last year. The same company that became your only solace ever since it took a literal bullet for you without thought just to keep you safe. The same company that read your favourite books so you had someone to talk to about them. The same company that sat with you and watched all your favourite shows so they could get a better glimpse of who you are and what you like. The same company you thought you were finally getting somewhere with.

It felt like you got hit by a truck when the words "You know Bucky's been dating?" nonchalantly left Sam's mouth one day while you were having lunch. You didn't want to know more about it. You didn't want to know who they were, how the two met, or what they did for a living. You didn't want to be told anything other than the fact Sam was joking, that what you thought you had with Bucky really was real and not just in your head. Sam never said anything close to that, though.

Bucky never brought up the dates to you, and you almost felt that was even worse than if he did. Why did he not want to tell you? Were you really not as close as you thought? Did he not trust you enough to tell you such a thing? Your thoughts continuously spiraled over the next few days, stealing away your self confidence and the air from your lungs. Nothing was the same anymore. You thought you knew where you stood with Bucky. You thought it all meant something. All the stares from across the room, the lingering touches, the 'just because' gifts, the movie nights, the sleepovers, all of it. But it meant nothing. You read it all wrong. And now it's been two weeks since you were able to look at him long enough for you to even say hi to him, let alone have a conversation with him.

Bucky noticed the shift the moment it happened; when you slid ever so slightly away from him when he tried to hold you in his arms like he did every movie night. He noticed when the smile stopped reaching your eyes. He noticed when you stopped showing up for dinners with the gang every night. He noticed when you couldn't hold his gaze anymore. He noticed that you two just weren't the same, and it killed him. It killed him because he didn't know what he did, and he tried everything under the sun to get things back to the way they were, but nothing worked.

Everyone noticed when his demeanor changed. His fuse was shorter, his temper was stronger. He spent even more time in the training room, pummeling and destroying bag after bag until his knuckles were bloody; letting himself heal overnight only to do it all again the next day. He shamelessly threw a dining chair into a wall when Tony made a joke about how you must have smartened up and finally got sick of him, and his expression was so murderous that a Code White was called, effectively resulting in him being locked down in his room for a full 24 hours - he ended up staying in there even after the lockdown was over. The only reason he started leaving the confines of his room was to spend time with his best girl, and he didn't have that anymore.

All your friends were sick of it. They didn't know what was going on, and you both refused to talk about it. No one could even mention the others' name to either of you anymore without fear of having the nearest object thrown at their head.

So plans were formed, and you now sat on the couch with a glass in your hand as you mindlessly swayed to whatever song was currently playing.

"Who is in charge of this music? It is awful!" Yelena stated from her spot on the floor, taking yet another shot.

"I picked it," you crooned, stilling your movements as you looked at her. "It's completely free of attachments to you-know-who."

A cohesive muttering came from all the women before you, and Yelena cleared her throat. "It is not bad," she corrected with a grimace, taking pity on you.

"Are you drunk enough to tell us what happened now?" Nat asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

Downing the rest of your glass, you looked at her with a thoughtful expression for a minute. "No," you concluded, filling your glass again.

"Okay, this is torture. Time for a drinking game!" Wanda exclaimed, standing from her chair. "Everyone take a mustache and tape it to the TV. We're putting on a trash show and drinking whenever it lines up with someone."

You beamed with excitement, ready to both watch crappy TV and get drunk - gods know you needed at least one night to forget about Bucky.

And forget you did. You can't remember the last time you were this far gone, the last time you had this much fun. The drinking game was very successful; it even got Yelena and Nat a little tipsy, which was not easy to do. No one said anything when you went a little harder than everyone else, when you drank a little more, taking shots when you weren't technically supposed to. You haven't smiled like this in weeks, and they weren't going to take that away from you.

Your giggles carried on down the hallway, the echoes of your voice, of your laughter, music to everyone's ears - having gone so long now without hearing it. It captured someone's attention, socked feet being dragged towards the sound before even knowing what was happening, a seat being taken in the kitchen just to be that much closer, eyes gazing across at you, a face with such an amorous expression it would have made anyone who saw it sick.

You audibly gasped as you caught sight of him, your eyes meeting his for the briefest of seconds before he looked away, contemplating whether he should go back to his room or not.

"Oh, my god. Why is he here?" you asked the girls, unable to take your eyes off of him.

"Why is who here?" Kate asked, following your gaze. "Him? What are you talking about he-"

"We don't know!" Nat chimed in, sending a warning glare to Kate that you were too distracted to see.

"Why don't you go talk to him and find out?" Wanda suggested, quickly catching on to Nat's motive.

You shook your head vehemently, making yourself momentarily dizzy. "Noooo. He broke my heart, Wan. What would I even say?" you replied with a whine, sinking into the couch as you lifted the glass to your lips again.

She shared a look with Nat, two looks that said 'fuck, maybe we shouldn't let her do this' and 'what the hell does she mean by that?' You couldn't decipher either, though. The blood was rushing in your ears as you stared across the room again, torn between going to confront this beautiful, asshole of a man and staying in the comfort of the living room.

Before you could really think it through - and in your state, it's not like you really could anyway - you abruptly stood from the couch, taking a few seconds to steady yourself on your feet.

"Fuck him," you muttered to yourself, vaguely aware of the girls trying to get your attention as you marched across the floor.

His head snapped up when he heard you coming, his enhanced hearing paired with the fact you weren't exactly in a graceful state didn't give you the advantage of sneaking up on him.

"Hi, doll," he said once you approached him.

Had you been in a more collected frame of mind, you probably would have noticed how quiet his voice was, how strained it was from the fact he was holding his breath in the hopes the two of you would go back to normal. You would have noticed the pain, the hurt, the confusion, and the hope dancing around in his eyes; making the blue that used to be your favourite colour now dull and stormy.

You didn't notice, though. All you noticed was the burning pain in your heart that was supposed to be gone after all those drinks, but just one look at the man before you brought everything back.

"You can't call me that anymore," you declared, shaking your head so much it made the room spin even more. "You gotta keep that name reserved now," you added bitterly.

"Reserved?" Bucky asked, his brow knit together in confusion. "For who?"

You scoffed, walking forward to close the distance that was left between you and the table he sat at. A few steps in and you lost your footing, but before you could even stumble Bucky was already out of his seat. His hands were on your arms in an instant, the feeling of hot and cold both burning your skin in a familiar way. The tenderness of his touch and the yearning you felt for it after all this time was almost too much to bear; your mind was spinning. Spinning from alcohol. Spinning from heartache. Spinning from anger. Spinning, spinning, spinning.

"Let go of me!" you exclaimed angrily, shrugging yourself out of his grasp. "I don't think your little lover would want you touchin' me."

Bucky could only stand there, blinking in surprise with his hands still outstretched. "My what?" he asked, his hands slowly falling back to his sides. "My lover?" he repeated.

"Yeah, your lover - or… whatever the hell you want to call them. Sam told me, because you didn't," you told him indignantly.

"I- what? Sam told you? Sam told you what?" he asked, more confused than ever.

"That you're dating someone!" you yelled, the anguish clear in your voice.

Bucky sighed and ran his hands over his face in exasperation before resting them on his hips, his lips pursed as he collected his thoughts. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he finally asked, trying to put the pieces together in his head.

"Didn't expect me to know, did you?" you spat furiously.

"I don't- sweetheart, what the hell is going on?" he asked softly, trying his best to remain patient. You were finally talking to him again, and it's definitely not the way he imagined but he'd be damned if he was going to let you slip through his fingers again.

"No!" you said forcefully. "I'm not your sweetheart. She is. Whoever she is."

"There is no ‘she’," Bucky told you calmly, trying his hardest to make sense of what was going on.

"Okay, then he is!" you replied in defeat, finally throwing yourself down on the chair beside you.

"What? No, that's not-" he tried to answer you, but you quickly cut him off.

"Why didn’t you want to tell me?" you asked quietly, your voice cracking.

“Because… I’m not dating anyone,” he replied slowly, more of a question than a statement.

“Just stop lying!” you yelled, hands slamming onto the table. “Please, I can’t take you lying to me anymore, okay? You’ve been lying to me all year,” you added in desperation, your eyes starting to glisten with tears.

“All year?” he asked, his voice quiet and shaky as he slid into the seat across from you.

You could only nod your head, bottom lip trembling as the first tears started to fall down your cheeks. Bucky started burning from the inside out, wanting nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and kiss the tears away- but he couldn’t. So he stayed where he was, swallowing thickly as he willed himself not to start crying with you.

“I never lied to you, you know that,” he said carefully.

“You did, because this whole time you-... I really thought-... you made me think-” you couldn’t get the words out, falling silent as you tried to collect yourself.

Bucky instinctively reached his hands across the table to you before he caught himself, pulling them back and setting them on his lap. "What did I make you think?"

"That you trusted me. That we meant something to each other," you explained softly, swallowing back more tears. "I thought you loved me back," you added, your voice so quiet it would have been inaudible to anyone other than him.

"What?" Bucky breathed out, the air being stolen from his lungs with those last six words that spilled from your trembling lips.

"I know you heard me."

"Okay- now is not the time for this conversation," he sighed, running his hands over his face.

You sat in silence for a moment, looking at him with such an recognizable expression Bucky felt like he was looking at a completely different person. "Figures," you muttered before shoving your chair back and standing up.

"What are you doing?" Bucky asked, half out of his seat as he watched to make sure you were steady on your feet.

Without another word to him, you turned and carefully started to make your way out of the kitchen and towards your bedroom.

"Don't you dare walk away from me!" Bucky called from behind you, quickly on your heels. "No, you're not allowed to leave me like this again."

"You left me first!" you yelled back, placing your hand on the wall to keep your balance as you walked a little faster.

"I never left you once!" he argued, still hot on your trail.

You scoffed, shoving open the door to your room and trying to slam it in his face; the attempt was unsurprisingly futile. "Stop following me, you said you don't want to talk."

"No, I said this isn't the time for this conversation," he huffed, shoving his way into your room and closing the door behind him.

"Why? You don't want to admit what you did?" you asked, stumbling your way to sit on the bed.

"For fucks sake, I didn't even do anything!" he defended with exasperation, leaning against the door.

"Yes you did," you argued, attempting to take off your sweater.

"I'm telling you, I didn't," he told you, trying his best to not let out a laugh as he watched you struggle to lift the sweater over your head.

"You did!" you yelled, voice muffled by the fabric. "You lied, and you kept secrets, and you - god, can you fucking help me?!" you asked with a huff, interrupting your own rant.

Bucky suppressed his laugh as he stepped forward, kneeling down in front of you. "Alright, alright. Stop fuckin' squirmin'," he muttered.

You stilled, muttering a few choice words under your breath that did not go unnoticed by him. Grasping the hem of your sweater, he carefully lifted it up and over your head to reveal your disheveled, pouting face.

"There's my girl," he whispered softly, delicately brushing back your mussed hair.

"I'm not-" you started to argue, before he quickly cut you off.

"Yes. You. Are," he said firmly, enunciating each word.

"But Sam-"

"Is an idiot," he insisted, cutting you off again. "He tried to set me up with someone but I never went. When he asked me about it, I told him we were gonna go out again so he'd stop fucking bugging me about it. I lied, sweetheart. I was never dating anyone."

"You- there was no one?" you asked quietly.

"There was no one else," he told you, his thumbs brushing away stray tears you didn't even know were falling.

Before you could ask him what that meant, your room started spinning once more and your mouth felt like cotton and your stomach felt like it was making its way up your throat.

"I don't feel so good," you mumbled, staring at him with wide eyes for a moment before rushing to your bathroom, barely making it on time.

Bucky was at your side in the blink of an eye, holding back your hair as you let loose the contents of your girls' night, his hand ghosting up and down your back. He sat patiently with you, muttering comforting words between each second of you getting sick as you gasped for air and sobbed, occasionally wiping your face with tissues.

"Better?" he asked after a few minutes, his hands never leaving you.

You could only nod in response, shifting away from him to rest against the bathtub as you closed your eyes.

Bucky immediately fell into his old habits, wasting no time in taking care of you. The only thing that destroyed him more than not having you in his life lately was watching you practically wither away, unable to do a damn thing about it.

"Drink, sweet girl," he told you, caressing your cheek in an attempt to rouse you before handing you the water you had no idea he even retrieved.

You blinked up at him, taking a moment to process what was going on before taking the glass from him. As you drank he gathered up a washcloth, running it under cold water before kneeling before you once more.

"C'mere," he whispered, taking your chin in one hand to hold you in place as he gently wiped your face. Your eyes closed once more, sighing in content as the cold water eased the burning under your skin.

"I love you," you found yourself telling him. Your voice was a delicate whisper, but the words were so heavy you felt like they echoed off the tiles surrounding you anyway.

Bucky stayed quiet, but you refused to open your eyes and look at him. Looking at him would make this moment real, so as long as you kept your eyes closed, you could pretend none of this ever happened.

"Let's get you to bed," he finally said, causing your world to implode once more.

Completely defeated, you allowed him to lift you from the floor.

Not having the energy to fight him anymore, you cooperated as he helped you into some sleep clothes.

Wanting to just hide away forever, you let him tuck you under the covers, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he slid in beside you, wanting to be there in case you got sick again.

The room was engulfed by silence for so long it almost felt like it was suffocating you, but just before your whirling mind finally succumbed to the allure of sleep you heard Bucky's gentle voice speaking out to you.

"Sleep this off, angel. Because when I explain to you how in love with you I am, I want to make damn sure you can remember what I say."

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elssero · 6 months ago

Text

/ SUMMONED

-elssero kinktober

✟ succubus!reader x loser!yuuta, fem!reader! monsterfucking, vaginal(?) penetration. dryhumping? (apologies for any typos!)

this is stupid. this whole idea is stupid. everything is stupid. maybe- maybe if people took interest in him then he wouldn’t need to go to such lengths in order to get laid- it’s not his fault.

he doesn’t even know where he found this stupid demon summoning kit- maybe a halloween gift from one of his equally socially ostracised friends? he’s unsure.

it probably won’t even work- how embarrassing will it be when he goes through all this work in an attempt to summon some sort of sex demon and even that can’t get him laid- he winces thinking about.

he just can’t handle another rejection- well, can it really be described as rejection if he can’t even work up the courage to speak to the girl he likes? he knows he doesn’t stand a chance anyway- what’s the point in even trying.

he needs something though- his self masturbation unable to satisfy him the way he really needs. he debates paying for sex- finding some camgirl or prostitute to help him- but the sheer embarrassment from people finding out halts those ideas in their tracks.

this should be more embarrassing- if people were to ever find out. but they won’t? if it doesn’t work- he won’t ever speak of it again, never uttering a word to a single soul- but on the off chance that it does work, he’ll just tell his friends he got laid by some girl at bar.

setting the summoning up is more difficult than he thinks it should be- drawing out a symbol on his bedroom floor- setting up various offerings of plants and crystals- god he feels stupid.

he debates getting rid of it all- not even going through with this stupid summoning, but the idea of fucking some sort of demon has been keeping him up ever since he found that kit a couple weeks ago.

it’s nearing halloween now- if any time of year is best to attempt to summon a demon it should be now right? unsure on how to prepare himself he begins to get anxious- what if it actually does work?

nervousness pools in his stomach as he places the final pieces- it’s nearing on midnight, the apparent ideal time to be summoning demons.

his room is dimly lit, illuminated by the glow of the candles he’d set up, the chalk drawn circle is engraved with runes and sigils.

the clock strikes twelve as he places the final piece- a chunk of rose quarts- meant to symbolise healing and unconditional love, ironic.

he sits completely still- waiting for something- some sort of sign to convince himself this wasn’t a stupid idea. the silence in his room is deafening, filled only by his anxious breaths.

he lets out a deflated sigh- he was right. this was never going to work. just as he begins to move, a low vibrating sound begins to ring in his ears.

the walls of his room begin to shake- objects fall from shelf’s around him- smashing sounds frightening him. the previously lit candles blow out in an instant- leaving him in complete darkness.

the chalk drawn circle begins to glow- his wooden floor turning into smoke- he closes his eyes, unable to watch as the space around him begins to change- he’s never been so afraid.

unaware of if the shaking of his body is due to nervousness or the movements of his room until they come to a stop.

there’s no way- absolutely no way this is happening to him. he must be dreaming, this must me some sort of sick joke that his mind is playing on him.

he opens his eyes- only to be met with the sight of a mythical creature- something he has only ever seen in the weird fantasy tv shows he watches. you take the form of someone beautiful, irresistibly attractive as though designed to appeal to his every desire.

he’s startled by your demon-like features- although he shouldn’t be, taking a moment to gape at your traits, your bat-like wings, the long tail that wraps around your front.

there’s a smile on your face- seductive, as though luring him into you. he’s frozen, unable to move half in fear and half in .. excitement?

“hm.. what do we have here?” your voice is sultry when he hears it, laced with lust he’s never heard from a woman before-

you take a step towards him , each step forcing an anxious sweat out of him- “what’s your name sweetheart”

“y-yuuta!” it comes out more breathy than he’d like- his nervousness clear in his voice.“yuuta” you repeat his name after him, a twitch of his cock as it rolls from your tounge “that’s sweet”

you continue to move towards him until your faces are inches away from each other, he feels your breath on his face “do you know what i am honey?”

“uh- well n-not entirely!” his hands are shaking with nerves as he answers “aren’t you just so cute” you take a deep stare into his eyes lips curling into a “i’m a succubus yuuta”

his eyes blow wide, mouthing dropping in shock, he’s completely embarrassed at the way his pants tighten at the idea “w-what?”

you take notice of the the way he shakes- wishing to soothe him “now now- don’t be afraid.” you raise a hand to his face, cupping his cheek “i’m here to take care of you hm? isn’t that what you wanted?”

he shakes his head in your hand- pouting up at you “b-but! your dangerous!”- he truly is adorable- it’ll only take a second for him to fall into your lap.

you run your hand down his face, cupping his jaw and pulling him closer to you “only as dangerous as you want me to be.” a caring smile on your lips.

he turns his head away from you- a blush evident on his face “your so shy sweetheart” you move to straddle him- his mouth forms a line as his face turns impossibly more red.

“gone quiet huh? well that’s no fun.” you begin to slowly rock your hips against his- low hums leaves his mouth- still not talking.

“well then, if that’s how you want to play this” you move your hands to wrap around his neck- pulling him closer to you as you grind down against him.

“tell me to stop if it gets too much for you hm?” his mouth opens- unable to stop the slur of noises that leave him- if this is the sounds he makes from over his clothes you can’t help but imagine what he’ll sound like when he’s actually inside.

the increased pace of your movements makes him unable to stay quiet “w-wait! ugh” his hands grip your waist for some sort of stability- feeling weightless from pleasure.

he digs his face into your neck in an attempt to to hide his sounds- “your so sensitive yuuta- squirming around like a virgin” he takes a sharp breath at that- oh.

you stop your movements- listening to the small whine that leaves his throat at the loss of friction. “yuuta- sweetheart, are you a virgin?”

“don’t s-stop!” his hips buck up at in an attempt to regain the pleasure- you don’t allow it “nu uh- answer my question.”

his head dips in shame- a small whisper leaving his throat “yes..” it’s barely audible- not good enough. “what was that?”

he’s never felt more embarrassed in his life- but having no other choice if he wants you to go further “yes- y-yes i’m a virgin.”

a light seems to glimmer in your eyes “god aren’t you just the cutest” the rocking of your hips is involuntary as it begins again.

“couldn’t get laid huh? had to summon a sex demon to get your dick yet?” he stutters in response, embarrassed filing his stomach.

your hands wrap even further around his neck- placing a small kiss to the side of his mouth “don’t worry baby- i’ll take care of you”

his hips rut against you, his whines are mumbled into your mouth as you kiss him. you feel the increasing pace of his hips beneath you beginning to stutter “you gonna cum huh? so soon?”

he moans at that- a high pitched breathy sound-“you wanna cum in your pants huh?” he closes his eyes in anticipation “o-oh shit!”

the fitting of his hips halts to a stop- you don’t give up on your movements- determined to ride him through his orgasm “that feel good baby?”

his expression is a little fucked as he lets his back fall to hit the floor behind him, unaware of the pain it should’ve caused him “mmm yeah-”

“you wanna fuck me now?” it snaps him back to life instantly- eyes gleaming with excitement. “w-wait- really?”

you can’t help but giggle at his eagerness “god aren’t you sweet- of course. wasn’t that the whole point?” you begin to undress him- and yourself, struggling slightly to take away the restraints covering his cock.

positioning the head of his dick against your heat within an instant- far too horny yourself to tease him- you slam yourself down on him “oh oh oh- oh fuck-”

“feel good baby?” enchanted by the feeling of your walls- he begins blabbering “yeah- yeah feels so good”

“your doing so well baby” his brows furrow in pleasure- “ngh- really?” it’s so cute- yearning for reassurance.

you can’t help but be impressed- not only by the size of him- but also his movements. they may be unpracticed but he’s eager “uh huh- feel so good yuuta”

your praise seems to tip him over the edge “gonna come again” it’s adorable how quick he begins undone- you can’t really blame him.

“yeah? you gonna cum inside me?” his hips move in a frenzy at that, his hands on your hips gripping him tighter with every slam of your bodies together.

“yeah- yeah fuck gonna cum inside” he whines as he does- breathing heavy as he fills you up- unable to control himself.

you continue to fuck him through his orgasm- wishing to consume every part of him. his chest rises and falls when he comes to the end.

normally- this would be it for you, draining your victim of their life-force before you leave them, panting- wanting more. this feels different- even to you.

“you tired baby?” he can only nod in response- too consumed by pleasure to speak- “that’s a shame.”

“i’m not even nearly done with you yet.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #tw monsterfucking #jjk kinktober #jjk yuuta #yuuta x reader #jujutsu kaisen yuuta #yuuta okkotsu smut #yuuta x y/n #yuuta x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #smut

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 3 months ago

Text

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 5

Source for pic

Trouble 5

Word Count: 4660

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: Ohhhh, we about to start shaking things up by the next chapter! I'm so freaking excited!!! I hope you like this one, tell me all about it!

Masterlist

“Wow.” When Nami said yacht, you thought of one of those sleek, modern-looking boats. Not a pirate ship lookalike. “This is cool.” You state, still in awe at the monstrous ship you're staring at.

“It's suuuuuuper cool!” Franky exclaims, more excited than anyone on the dock, and you can't help but agree with him.

The ‘few people’ Nami mentioned are definitely more than twenty - you stop counting - but you recognize some of them: school friends or some neighboring kids from growing up. Others are Franky’s coworkers and buddies, and then there's an array of people that are friends of a friend.

Anybody who's anybody wants to be at Franky’s party.

And Zoro’s going to be late.

You sigh, taking the steps on the plank that leads up to the ship's deck as Nami shoulder-bumps you. “He'll be here, love.” Vivi stifles a giggle when you groan in embarrassment at being caught. You don't even pretend to be thinking about something else, it's all futile with these girls. “In the meantime, let's get you some liquid courage so you can loosen up when he gets here.”

-*-

Zoro had a terrible shift. He hates doing paperwork. It's all so utterly boring. But Captain Mihawk is always grinding him, so he needs to file his reports or he risks getting on the Captain’s bad side. And that's something Zoro would like to avoid if possible. He’s pushed Mihawk’s buttons more than once.

He doesn't want to go back to traffic control.

Still, even though what he wished for most at this moment was to pop a cold one, prop his feet on the coffee table, and pretend to watch something on TV until his eyelids drooped down from exhaustion, he's rowing a freaking tiny boat, to get to a huge freaking ship, to attend Franky’s freaking party.

Just because you're there.

And he freaking wants to spend time with you.

Even though he's arriving at the party two and a half hours late - who the fuck changed the road to get to the dock? - just so he can see you.

Fucking heart.

With a grunt and a final sigh, he stops the boat near Franky’s ship and uses the ladder his friend left for him to climb aboard. Much like a freaking pirate.

Then, after a few ‘hellos’ to familiar faces, he makes his way to the bar to grab that cold beer he was craving before settling against the railing on the upper deck to get a good view of the party.

He won't even pretend that he's not looking for you. It's exactly what he's doing.

Somehow, his eye zeroes in on you in a split second. And it's not only because of the fact that he always finds you but because you are attracting attention to yourself. And not only because of the insane flailing of arms you're doing - is that supposed to be dancing? - or because of the way your laughter echoes around the deck. It's not even because you look effortlessly gorgeous in your outfit.

It's because you're magnetic.

Your simple presence commands the attention of everyone around you. Men and women alike, but the dudes feel bolder. They smirk and wink, they brush their arms against you and whisper words your way. You brush them all off, turning your attention to Nami and Vivi, but some are persistent. They linger near you, revelling in any bit of attention you care to give them.

And it's making Zoro feel insanely jealous.

Also, the fact that you're absolutely wasted doesn't help with your naturally clumsy disposition, so it's only a matter of time before you face-plant the grassed deck of Franky’s ship.

That, or the idiot following you around like a puppy dog catches you with his filthy mitts, and Zoro is forced to throw hands.

Which he can't. Because he's a cop.

“So, I’ve got you all figured out, Roronoa…” Zoro smirks, already anticipating the teasing that’s bound to come, and he turns his attention to his friend.

“I don’t know what you mean, Nico.”

Robin chuckles against her wine glass and tilts her head your way. Zoro follows her gaze and can’t help the involuntary way his lips purse as a growl threatens to escape them. The idiot near you is still trying to get your attention.

“You don’t? Well, it’s quite simple, really, I’ve read it a million times. We follow the lovable female protagonist around, watching as she slowly falls for the male main character, revelling in the little things he does for her… like protecting her…”

Zoro’s eye twitches at the same time you swat the idiot’s hand away from your waist.

“And then comes the male character’s POV… and you know what we find out?”

Zoro sighs, his patience wearing thin and ready to snap. “Do tell me.”

“That he fell first. And waaaay harder. It’s quite endearing.”

The beer tastes more bitter than it should as he chugs it down and places the bottle on a nearby tray. “Meaning?”

“Act on it, dummy. Or are you going to wait forever?”

Zoro’s eye never leaves you. His jaw moves as if he’s weighing his options. Then he releases a heavy sigh. “Fuck it.”

So, clenching his jaw and muttering more curse words, Zoro heads downstairs.

Just in time to see Nami slipping you another colorful drink. One mystery solved, Nami is the one that got you shit-faced.

You thank Nami with a smile, but as you turn on your heel, you slip - obviously - and the fucking idiot dares to steady you by the waist. A growl climbs up Zoro's throat, but before he reaches you, you're thanking the man and moving away from his grip. And then your eyes light up as you see Zoro approach, a huge smile replacing the fake one you used for the asshole, and Zoro smirks, his jealousy suddenly gone.

“Zo! Finally!” Fuck. He gets all weak in the fucking knees when you call him that. Who's the idiot now?

“Hey, Troublemaker, making trouble?”

“Yes!” You giggle and sway your way closer to him, so he steadies you by the upper arm, ignoring how touching you just makes him want to touch you more. “I'm so drunk!”

“I can see that. Thank you, Nami.” Zoro turns to Nami, who beams and raises her own glass in a mock salute.

“Oh, right! Thank you, Nami!” You say, and Zoro shakes his head in amusement.

“Don't thank her, Trouble.” You giggle, and he sighs. “So, am I stuck babysitting you again? I don't suppose drunk you is easier to babysit than normal clumsy you?” It doesn't matter how annoyed he may sound. He doesn't mind babysitting you.

“What? I resent that, Officer.” You giggle and stumble on your feet as he drags you away from the dance floor and herds you to a lounge chair.

“Sit. I'll get you some water.”

“Nooooo!” Your nails bite into his arm as you cling to him, and the way your scent envelops him with the proximity almost makes him stagger. “You just got here, don't leave me already. I want to spend time with you!”

Zoro groans as his heart skips a fucking beat. What the hell?

“I'm just getting you some water.”

“But I already have a drink!” You raise your glass, and half of its contents spill to the floor, missing your clothes by inches, though you barely notice it.

“I see that.” Zoro reaches and removes the glass from your hand, ignoring your protests and forcing you to sit down. “But I'm going to sober you up before you hurt yourself, okay?” He points to the bar that's just a few steps away. “I'll be right there.”

“Boo!! Party pooper!”

Zoro runs a hand over his face. He doesn't mind babysitting you at all. But he needs to keep his fucking heart in check. It doesn’t help that Robin was right.

He fell first.

He fell harder.

He just doesn’t know if you fell too…

-*-

You didn’t know being on a ship could feel so dizzying. But it’s as if the boat is shaking harder with every step you take.

It can't be all the drinks you've had, can it? How many have you had? It's hard to keep count when Nami keeps shoving them into your hand.

She said something about liquid courage, right? What did you need that for, anyway?

With a heavy sigh, you watch Zoro leaning against the bar to ask for a water bottle. It had something to do with that green-haired doofus who makes your heart go wild. You're sure about that.

“Hey, gorgeous. Can we finish our dance?” Rob Lucci, one of Franky’s coworkers who you’ve met earlier sits near you, wearing a lopsided smirk, and you raise your brow. What does he mean by ‘finish your dance’? You were dancing with Nami…

“Beat it.” Zoro's grunt saves you from any kind of answer, but Lucci simply scowls at him. You can see Zoro's jaw twitching, and you realise how handsome he really is. “Scram, man, leave.”

Lucci stares at you one more time, but seeing as you don't say anything to keep him there, he calls it quits and disappears just as Zoro hands you the bottle and sits next to you, muttering something you can't discern through his teeth.

“Drink.” He orders you, and you squint your eyes, trying to look menacing.

“You're not the boss of me.”

A heavy sigh parts his lips as he closes his eye to keep it from twitching in annoyance. “Can you please drink some water?”

Your smirk gets lost against the rim of the bottle as you comply. After a few sips, you set the bottle aside, your smirk still in place.

“You know what I've just realised?” Zoro opens his mouth to answer but you don't even let him. “You're a really handsome man.” Zoro's reaction is priceless. The tips of his ears turn pink as he opens and closes his mouth, at a loss for words, for once. “Look at that jawline… and your piercing eye? What the hell happened to the other one? You didn't have that scar when I left…”

Once more, he opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him. “Hey! I'm not complaining, it gives you a dangerous look. Unattainable. Scary. Like… Like a big dog.” You smirk at his dumbfounded expression. “All bark and no bite, though. Like a… Golden Retriever! Oh, no. Those are cute…”

“Oi, Trouble, I'm only going to let this slide because you're wasted.” Zoro's ears are still red, and the way he's getting flustered is fuel to your fire.

“I am.” A devious giggle leaves your lips as you continue to tease him. “And look at these muscles…” His bicep feels like hard rock as you wrap your fingers around it. “So firm and…”

Shit.

“I bet you could pin me easily.”

Shit. You should just stop.

Zoro's eye widens, and you feel his arm tremble slightly against your grip.

“I mean… With these muscles? Imagine that, Zo, you could pin me against a wall, trap my wrists with just one hand–”

“Stop talking–”

“... and I wouldn't even be able to move a muscle. You could press yourself against me and–”

“Trouble, stop talking.”

You should. Where's your filter?

“... I wouldn't even be able to wiggle out of your hold, I mean, you're really strong!”

Zoro closes his eye, one hand running over his face as he takes a deep breath.

“Are you imagining it?” Your question is innocent, but Zoro's red face confirms it without him needing to answer it. “Zoro?” He looks at you, brow furrowed in concentration, and you can almost see how he's trying to focus his gaze in your eyes and not on your lips. “Kiss me.”

Shit.

-*-

You're trying to kill him.

That's the only explanation he can come up with. Why else would you be saying these things?

Pin you? Fuck! The way that image is now running through his head is more dizzying than any alcoholic beverage.

“Kiss me, Zo!” You try again, and it's only proof his hearing is more than fine. It takes him a beat to find his voice, and when he does, it's raspy and affected.

“You're drunk.”

“We've established that already. Now kiss me.” You shuffle closer to him, and he gets up abruptly, taking two steps back and leaning on the balustrade of the ship, hoping the crisp, tangy ocean air cools him down.

“No.”

He answers, and you also get up, swaying on your unsteady legs and sauntering over to him, reaching your hands against his chest to steady yourself.

A groan leaves his lips as his hand instinctively holds you by the waist to help you stand still.

“Zo…”

“Trouble…”

You lock eyes with him for a second before he feels your fingers probing his chest muscles.

“I mean… They feel rock hard! How do you do this?”

Zoro sighs. Fuck. He's barely holding on to his sanity as it is.

“I work out. You should drink more water.”

“No. Kiss me.”

“You're drunk.”

You stamp your foot against the deck, and that gesture should be childish and immature, not cute!

“I know! Kiss me.” The way you dig your nails against his chest through his shirt makes his brain consider how they would feel running across his naked skin. So, he closes his eye and takes a deep, steadying breath.

“You'll regret it in the morning. You're drunk.”

Has he said that enough?

“Someone very wise once said that drunken words are sober thoughts.” You quip at him with a very proud smile and a hand landing on your hips.

His lip twitches upwards, and he lets out a small chuckle. “Nami says that.”

“You can't deny she's wise beyond her years.” You smirk, and he chuckles harder.

Then someone bumps into you and you stumble against Zoro, who steadies you and tries to scowl at the asshole who wasn't careful but he's long gone. And now you're staring right at his lips, a wistful look in your eyes.

“Kiss me.”

He wants to say no. He should say no. You're drunk. You'll both regret it if your first kiss happens like this.

But it's so tempting.

Just say no, idiot.

“I'll kiss you when you sober up.”

Close enough.

“But I want it now.”

Fuck.

“What's going on, here?” Nami's mischievous voice comes out like a lifeline on Zoro's sinking ship.

“Oh, thank God!” He groans.

“Zoro is being mean!” You pout, and Nami laughs. “He doesn't want to kiss me!”

Is there a shovel that Zoro can use to dig a hole in the ground? Would Franky be too upset if he broke a few boards to just… disappear?

“He doesn't want to kiss you?” Nami gives him the stink-eye, though laced with heavy amusement, and Zoro lets out a low growl.

“She's drunk.”

“Drunken words are sober thoughts!” Nami quips back, and you gasp, holding her arm and pointing at Zoro in accusation.

“That's what I told him! And he still won't kiss me!”

Nami laces one arm with yours and tugs you to her side, the curve of her lips lifting upwards while she stares at Zoro.

“It's alright, sweetie. If big, bad, meanie Zoro won't kiss you, I'm sure we can find someone who will.” What the hell is Nami playing at? “I know Sanji is all gentlemanly-like, but we can see if he kisses you, how about that?”

The low growl that leaves Zoro's lips sounds foreign, even to him. But the thought of the cook, no, the thought of any other man daring to kiss you is enough to make him seethe. His grip on your waist tightens, and he pulls you closer.

“She's fine right here.” He warns Nami, trying to convey that her joke is not funny with his actions alone.

“But she wants a kiss, Zoro.”

“Leave it, Witch.”

“I don't want Sanji's kiss, though, I want Zoro's.” Zoro will not admit to anyone how your words made warmth spread through his chest, but he's sure Nami can see the faint tinge of pink on his cheeks and ears, judging from the way she cackles.

“I know, sweetie, I know you do.” She shoves another water bottle in your hand and giggles, clearly a bit inebriated herself. “Keep drinking this, then. The liquid courage worked, now sober up and the grumpy man will give you that kiss.”

What the hell is Nami talking about?

“Everyone, look up in the sky!”

-*-

All the urge to get kissed by Zoro vanishes with Usopp’s plea. Turning your head upwards and fighting vertigo, you witness in awe as a different array of fireworks explodes in the sky, casting bright colours above the ship.

“Zo…” You whisper, hoping he's finding the view as magnificent as you are. “Are you seeing this?”

“Yes, Trouble, it's… beautiful.”

You don't quite know why his voice sounds so raw and vulnerable, but the one second you take your eyes away from the sky, you swear you find him staring at you before looking back up.

But another loud bang distracts your thoughts, and you pat your pocket to try and find your phone.

“It really is. I need a video of this.” You can't find your phone anywhere, you're sure you placed it in your pocket… Maybe the other one?

Nothing.

Then someone bumps into you again, making you hit the balustrade with a small yelp. You hear Zoro grumble and yell at the person who hit you, but he decides to check on you instead of following them.

Another beautiful blast in the sky steals your attention, and this time you do find your phone. In the exact pocket you were searching for it.

Strange.

Or not, since you're absolutely wasted.

You finally get your video. Zoro hovers near you because you keep leaning on the railing to try and get a good angle, and you're pretty sure you're giving him a small apoplexy every time you do that.

Afterwards, you keep sipping your water, but Nami drags you to more dancing and partying, though you notice Zoro still watching your every move, probably making sure you don’t hurt yourself, nothing else.

After a while, you gravitate towards him again, a smile plastered on your lips and still with a sway to your step. You're still drunk.

But before you say anything, Lucci, who was dancing near you again, follows you, grabbing you by the upper arm to turn you towards him. You sway more than you should and register a low growl behind you before he smiles at you.

“Hey, gorgeous, want to grab a few more drinks now? I hear this ship’s got some bunks somewhere, maybe we–”

“I thought I told you to scram, Lucci. She's taken.”

You feel heat blooming in your cheeks as Zoro's gravelly voice rings near your ears. His hand rests on your waist as he pulls you back towards him, and you feel Rob Lucci's fingers lose their grip around your arm.

“Woah, man, sorry, I didn't know. Thought you were just friends...” Zoro mumbles something between his breath as Lucci retreats, though his fingers still grip you tightly.

“Taken?” You grin, turning around to face him with a raised brow, your hands finding purchase against his forearms.

“Well, yeah.” Zoro looks away from your eyes, and you see his throat bobbing up and down. “Figured it was the fastest way to send him on his way.”

“Oh, so it was mere convenience?”

Zoro opens and closes his mouth, but then a giggle escapes your lips as you sway some more, gripping him tightly.

“You're still drunk, so yeah, we can call it convenience.”

“You're so grumpy, Officer.” He sighs and shoves another water bottle in your hands. “Ohhhh, do you have your handcuffs with you?” A mischievous grin splits your lips and Zoro grabs hold of Robin's arm, who happens to be strolling by.

“Nico, take over. I can't deal with this conversation right now.” He says, exasperated as you open your mouth in shock.

“Heeeeey! Come on, Zo, I was just teasing!”

But he's already asking Robin to keep an eye on you as he disappears into the crowd.

“What did you tell him? What scared off Roronoa Zoro?” She asks, amused, and you chuckle but don't answer. Maybe your filter is returning?

-*-

The party lasts long into the middle of the night, and by the time the ship docks, you're already sobered up, though your steps are still wobbly and uncoordinated. Zoro offers to take you home, since you rode with Robin, and you just nod at him, too mortified to try and utter a full sentence his way.

Maybe he won't bring up the way you blatantly threw yourself at him. Is it too much to ask?

But it doesn't take him five minutes into the drive to start chuckling. You don't ask why he's amused, you know better than to walk right into that trap, yet he doesn't really wait for your curiosity to kick in.

“Why so quiet, Trouble? Are you reconsidering your life choices? Maybe silently vowing never to drink again? Or maybe to stop listening to Nami's advice?”

A groan is all you allow before you hide your face behind your hands. Yet, he's relentless in his teasing.

“You're a really handsome man, look at that jawline.” His impression of you is anything but accurate, yet it's enough to make your stomach churn. So you really said that to him, it wasn't just your imagination!

“Kiss me, Zo.”

Oh, God, that too? A desperate whine is all the sound you manage to make while wishing to disappear into the car seat.

“But my favourite? You could pin me easily.” He lets out another chuckle. “I wasn't expecting that, Trouble.”

“Please, please stop, Zoro. I'll never drink again, I swear.”

“Oh, I doubt that very much.” And then he laughs. A real laugh.

That is enough to make you leave the safety of your hands and stare at him, his lips still curled back, brows slightly scrunched, and an easy expression on his face.

“Was that a laugh?”

“What do you mean? I laugh all the time.”

Shaking your head, you turn fully to him, all previous mortification forgotten. “No. You chuckle, you smirk, and sometimes you snicker. You don't laugh.”

Silence surrounds you as he enters your driveway and parks the car in front of your porch. Then he makes eye contact with you, the semblance of a snicker still ghosting his lips. “Guess now I do.”

You barely have time to register what that could mean before you both exit the car. You're embarrassed at how Zoro has to steady you as you climb the steps because the world is still spinning, but at least you're of sound mind again, so no stupid words will leave your mouth now.

“Are you regretting the way you behaved, Trouble?”

You stop in front of your door, one hand playing with your keys as you take a deep breath.

“No. Not all of it, at least. Drunken words really are sober thoughts, I guess.” You whisper, making sure your eyes are locked with his and trying to ignore how your heart is thrumming against your chest.

“All of them?” Zoro's tone carries mischievousness in it, and you bite your lip to stifle a smirk.

“Yes.”

He takes a step forward, his hand brushing lightly against your waist, a place he touched so many times tonight, but not once did it burn like now.

“Are you sober now?” He lowers his voice as his eye lingers on your lips.

“I am.”

“Good.” Zoro leans in, head tilting slightly to the side. “Because I'm going to kiss you.”

You barely have time to let out a gasp before his lips touch yours. Your eyelids flutter shut, and just as you're about to reach for his neck and deepen the kiss–

Beep, beep, beep…

Your phone alarm starts blaring in your pocket, an obnoxious sound that disrupts the night - and the moment - making you both groan as you fall apart.

“Are you kidding me?” Zoro grumbles, though without any real bite to his words, and you fumble with the device, trying to make the annoying sound stop.

You finally manage to silence it, and you giggle nervously. “I'm sorry! I didn't set any alarm, my alarm sound isn't even this obnoxious, I don't know what happened and–”

Zoro tilts your chin up with his thumb and forefinger, a devious smirk on his lips as he leans down again. “Let's try this again, shall we?”

Your stomach flips, and butterflies take flight as your heart skips a beat.

But just as your lips brush together, his phone starts ringing.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He complains taking the phone out of his pocket, a frown on his lips as he sees the name. “It's the station, I need to answer this.” Then you witness his expression somber as he paces back a little.

Just like that, you know your moment is over, so you sigh as Zoro hangs up the call.

“It's an emergency at the station. I have to go.” You can actually see the annoyance in his face and the slight tinge of dissatisfaction in his eyes.

“Maybe we can finish this another night?” Perhaps there’s still some alcohol lingering in your blood, because that was very bold of you.

Zoro is already skipping down the steps, two at a time, but he stops near his car, leaning on the open door and smirking at you in the most devious way you’ve ever seen him.

“Trust me, Trouble, next time I won’t stop. Even if the world is ending.”

You’re still smiling giddily at his words when you enter your home and lock the door. You can’t wait for what happens next.

-*-

Zoro lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head, trying to clear his mind. Setting his phone in its holder, he dials Captain Mihawk’s number and sets it to speaker.

“Roronoa.” Mihawk’s gravelly voice answers after one ring.

“Someone took out his eyes? What the fuck?” Zoro still can’t believe what he heard earlier.

“We don’t know much yet. They had to perform urgent surgery on him. We’ll know more when he wakes up.”

Zoro’s foot presses down on the pedal, still riding under the limit, but barely. “What kind of sick fuck would do that?”

“We don’t know. But there’s a possibility you saw him tonight. After all, it happened at your friend’s boat party.”

Fuck.

“Where’d you find him?”

“A dock worker found him. Wrists bound, eye sockets empty, in shock.” Mihawk’s voice is curt and methodical, a voice of someone accustomed to gruelling murders and grizzly stories. After all, he’d spent far too long in the big city and seen too much.

“Anything else?”

“A note.” A clue. “Pinned to his chest with a nail. It said: ‘She’s mine.’ Nothing else. We’re still running it for prints or other evidence. Sounds like a crime of passion, jealousy, possession, perhaps?”

Zoro’s teeth grind together. Something feels fishy about all of this. Something he can’t quite put his finger on. A crime of passion seems far too simple…

“Sounds like it. I’m about to pull up, talk soon.”

His heart constricts as he thinks of you. It might be just a coincidence, it has to be just a coincidence… What are the odds, really? What happened can’t have anything to do with you… Still…

After spending the night following you around like a puppy, Rob Lucci is found hurt, maimed, with his eyeballs missing?

Zoro releases a heavy sigh and shakes his head again. Maybe he’s reading too much into everything. You’re safe. And he’ll make sure you stay that way.

That’s all there is to it.

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22

|Chapter 6|

#one piece #one piece x reader #the meet cute #roronoa zoro x reader #reader x roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x you #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x you #you x zoro #zoro x reader #reader x zoro #reader insert

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matmiraculous · 18 days ago

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Encanto TV Show

So. I had Ideas. I want to know peoples thoughts before I actually start writing. (Ignore the fact that i'm almost 4 years late to the fandom)

Season 1

1 - Pilot: The Family Madrigal (Whole Fam Feat: Mirabel) Mirabel helps the family adjust to healthier habits in the early days after Casita is rebuilt, gently guiding them into a new chapter of life together. 2 - A Room of Ones Own (Mirabel) Mirabel feels like the family is avoiding her and gets really upset and lonely, only for the family and Casita to reveal that they made her her own room! 3 - Luisa Lets Go (Luisa) After accidentally breaking something during a vulnerable moment, Luisa realizes she still ties her worth to being strong and learns what it means to rest. 4 - Camilo Cares To Much (Camilo) Camilo shapeshifts nonstop to please everyone, but when a young fan copies him a little too well, he starts to unravel. 5 - Of Rats and Men (Bruno and Julieta) When a strange illness spreads in town, Bruno’s rats are unfairly blamed. He and Julieta team up to solve the mystery, healing a bit of Bruno’s reputation. 6 - Antonios Big Adventure (Antonio) Antonio discovers a creature that can’t speak to him, forcing him to explore other ways of understanding, and learning that connection takes more than magic. 7 - Game Night (Madrigal 3rd Gen + Mariano) The Madrigal kids (plus Mariano) have a game night that quickly devolves into chaos, competition, and comedy, before ending in giggles and heartfelt bonding. 8 - Flashback 1 (Madrigal 2nd Gen as Teens) Teenage Julieta, Pepa, Bruno, Félix, and Agustín navigate early gifts, clumsy romance, and Alma’s rising expectations during the miracle’s first years. 9 - Guys Night (Agustin, Felix, and Bruno) Félix and Agustín drag Bruno out for a night in town, challenging the village to treat him better while Bruno learns how to loosen up and be seen again.

10 - Power Swap (Whole Fam)

The family wakes up with their gifts completely shuffled. Cue hilarious chaos, instant regrets, and a whole new respect for each other’s daily struggles. 11 - An Artists Touch (Isabela and Mirabel) Mirabel and Isabela try to collaborate on a mural, but their wildly different creative styles clash until they find a way to blend beauty and mess into something uniquely theirs. 12 - Pranksters (Mirabel and Camilo Feat: Whole Fam) Mirabel and Camilo start a petty prank war that escalates into full family participation where everyone picks a side. 13 - Flashback 2 (Madrigal 3rd Gen. Pre Camilo and Mirabels Door ceremonies) A goofy happy episode about the Madrigal grandkids before Camilo and Mirabel both ahd their gift ceremonies. 14 - Still Abuela (Abuela Alma) As the village moves forward and relies less on her, Alma questions her place in the family, until Mirabel reminds her she’s still their light, even without the candle. 15 - Bedtime with Bruno (Antonio and Bruno) Bruno tells Antonio a bedtime story, and one by one the other kids gather to listen. Bruno feels like a part of the family finally. 16 - The Babysitters (Mirabel and Camilo) Mirabel and Camilo babysit a group of chaotic village kids and clash hard on parenting styles, until they learn that fun and structure can coexist. 17 - La Ratonovela (Rat Telenovela Feat:Bruno and Dolores) Bruno narrates one of his full-on dramatic rat telenovelas in person for once while Dolores keeps interrupting with ideas and questions. 18 - Hearing Hearts (Mariano +Madrigal 3rd Gen) Mariano tries to plan a romantic surprise for Dolores, while navigating the absolute nightmare of dating someone who can hear literally everything. 19 - Flashback 3 (Pepa Feat: Newborn Antonio) The story of Pepa’s pregnancy and the day Antonio was born. Its chaos obviously. 20 - Birthday (Madrigal Triplets) The triplets celebrate their first birthday together since Bruno returned, unlocking sweet childhood memories, unresolved guilt, and the quiet power of forgiveness.

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fluffykiddosstuff · 2 years ago

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stanford and stanley pines fighting for you (headcanons)

i just played swooning over stans and...help i'm so obsessed with these two now..here is littles headcanons for them when they are both in love with you :-)

warnings : swearing (thank you stanley), gn!reader, using they/them pronouns, mention of child abuse

context : the kids are gone, the grunkles are on adventures, so to their surprise when they came back for a month, they saw you in the living room (stanley almost hit you with a stick if ford and soos didn't got him), soos explain to them that you got banished from your home and came to the shack late at night under the rain. Pitty hitting them since they know damn well what a lonely life is, they let you stay and life goes on..well not as they expected...

stanley pines :

at first he tries to deny what he feels, you are friends, right ?

if you laugh at his jokes, swear with him against things he dislikes (tv-shows, young people ect..), and that you help him annoy poeple by stealing and other things ? My man is head over heals

you can see he start to grow fond of you when he wants to protect you even more than before, especially since he knows what is gravity falls made of

when you where gone for shopping with soos, he decided it was time to annonce it to his dear twin brother

he would talk about it while watching a romance movie with ford (even tho he said he didn't wanted to watch)

"you know, i start to kinda like them..but like like them you see.."

the pills doesn't pass well when ford says he likes you too

stan is definitely the most childish one

"let's make a bet sixer ! the first to got a date with them wins !"

he likes to come in while ford tries to show you something or even tries to speak to you

he even broke down ford's clock so he would be late to your weekly monster's chase

he still as limits of course, ford is his twin brother after all, and it's only little jokes that doesn't harm anyone right ?

will definitly show off with his boxing skills or by putting a nice suit (for exemple the one in the gif) while you all go out together for a party or something, will try to do sport everyday but heh, he is a little bit too old to do those things daily..

gives you his jacket when you are outside with him, even if you aren't cold, when he sees ford's face when he smells his cologne on you while you both work on something, i'ts worth it

gives you flowers and little gifts, puts them on your bed for you to find when you come back

verbally says what he thinks about you, while ford can't even say two lines in a phrase when all he wanted to say is that your outfit was pretty

stanford pines :

he mainly start to realise he likes you when you helped him with his reasearches for a creature, he is amazed by how much you are interested in his work and doesn't hesitate to take you as an assistant and answer all of your questions

man did he regret telling stan's about his feelins for you, now his life is a living hell (sometimes he thinks about going back in the other dimension by how stan can be extremely annoying, really)

you only get free time with him when you are both in the forest to hunt monsters, you talk for hours about many toppics

smarter than stan, he tries to make you more open around him, asking you about personnal stuff and trying to comfort you when things gets too hard for you to tell, he even experienced to make hugs (bc my dude is awkard) and he purposelly hugs you in front of stan while you are crying about something related from your abusive parents, bonus point if you say : "oh ford..what would i do without you..", he would look at his twin, sticking out his tongue in a proud grin, revenge is a plate you eat cold they said

when you are all watching a show on the t-v and that it's his turn to choose the movie, even if he is dying to watch a documentary, he puts an horror movie and sits next to you, watching you take his hand as a loud noises his heard or hugs you if you are too scared

when you both work and you pass out on a table, he first puts his long jacket on you, and if it gets too late, he takes you in his arms to put you in your bed, all while him and stan are having a "who is gonna look the more angry at eachother" contest

when stan swears , he likes to take him back, especially if you don't like that either (or if it's not the right moment or the right place to do those) of course it doesn't stop him for saying : "for fuck's sake" or "fucking little nerd" while you laugh with ford

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babybearnation · 2 months ago

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Charles x reader, they are best friends and reader got a bf who Charles hated and the bf ended up cheating so Charles took the chance to have you.

I love your writing btw🫡

some good old happy ending angst! i love it!

charles leclerc x gn!bff!reader

cw: toxic relationship, cheating, crying

charles fell in love with you shortly after the pair of you became friends

you two got closer over time but it was like no matter what he did, you remained uninterested in him and he just kept falling harder and harder for you

and then what was seemingly his worst nightmare came true

you got a boyfriend

charles didn't like him from the get-go but after speaking to his brothers about it, they said that maybe it was jealousy preventing him from seeing how happy your new boyfriend made you

things seemed perfect with you and your boyfriend at first

he was a big fan of f1 - a ferrari fan like you - and you had the same interests in movies and tv shows

sure you had a few differences but that was to be expected

what wasn't to be expected was the emotional manipulation and toxicity that started around six months into your relationship

you'd gone out to celebrate charles' birthday with his family and when you got home, your boyfriend was sobbing, clearly drunk, outside of your front door

you took him in and tried to comfort him but it was no use - you two ended up in a screaming match where he called you a cheater and you called him too jealous

he went home after that and you cried yourself to sleep

he arrived at your house again the next morning with a bunch of flowers and gifts and a big apology speech that warmed your heart

you accepted it because you understood that fights happen and the alcohol probably didn't help with his jealousy

except this wasn't just a normal fight or altercation - this was the start of what quickly became a reoccurring pattern of behaviour

and it wasn't just your friendship with charles that your boyfriend picked fights with you over or made fun of you for

he'd criticise your appearance to an awful degree and then laugh it off as a joke even when you expressed you were really hurt

he'd poke fun at your interests, even things you shared - he'd make you seem like less of a fan that he was

the things kept happening, day after day, and eventually, charles noticed

he confronted you about it and you ended up crying, apologising for hiding things from him before spilling all the details about what your boyfriend had been doing and saying

charles encouraged you to break up with him and you promised him you would but when you got back home, you couldn't bring yourself to do it

you told charles the truth - you couldn't do it because you loved your boyfriend too much - and he sighed but didn't say anything

the last thing he wanted to do was upset your feelings as well

things continued on like this for a few weeks until one of the worst possible things happened

you walked in on your boyfriend having sex with his coworker

you were furious, you told him to get lost and that you two were over, and you ran all the way to the leclerc household, sobbing your freshly broken heart out

charles was out doing ferrari work but arthur, lorenzo and pascale took you in and comforted you until charles came back

you told him everything that had happened and apologised for being so stupid and not listening to him

charles just shushed you and said that it was okay and he would never, ever blame you for what your boyfriend had done

it took a while for you to heal and charles remained firmly by your side throughout the entire thing, never once complaining when you burst into tears or went silent on him

he understood, and he loved you, so he was willing to be patient and wait for you to get over your ex on your own terms

but something about how patient and gentle charles was with you made you realise that, actually, the one you wanted was right there all along

you liked charles and you knew deep down that some small part of you always had, even if you'd buried it under layers of friendship over the years

it all comes to a head when you're watching a movie together one night

the two leads kiss and you let out a wistful sigh that has charles turning to you

"do you want me to turn it off?"

"i want you to kiss me"

charles startles at that but when you smile sweetly at him, he sees the love in your eyes and leans closer, slowly cupping your face in his hands and pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips

you pull away and meet his eyes and neither of you says anything, you just simultaneously lean in again

its only when you're about to sleep, charles letting you stay at his house, that he finally asks you to be his

and why would you say no?

#ᵔᴥᵔ fics #sir bear's sweetheart special #bear's inbox #bear's anons #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #cl16 #cl16 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #babybearnation

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simpsdept · 1 year ago

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Lucifer x GN adopted child reader

A/n: still have writers block. Trying to move and do school! Sorry it’s taking long! But I’m also going through some stress and emotions too and couldn’t write- but to heal me, I have made some Lucifer parent headcannons because he is the father I never had😔😔

-Platonic

-He adopted you out of depression, and being lonely. Not seeing his daughter for so long, and his wife(wives) really broke his heart. And since he can’t have children due to his lack of woman, he decided to adopt! Where you come in!

-When he saw your adorable little face in one of the foster home rooms, he knew you were perfect. You were young, not old enough to know who he was since Lucifer/Satan wasn’t out in public all the time, or at all. So while the other kids that were older cowered in fear, you were curious and un afraid, something that Lucifer loved about you.

-He can cook. Good. Expect him to make you home cooked meals all the time, so homemade dinosaur nuggets, aren’t you lucky? He’ll also help you learn how to cook, family bonding time! He has so many pictures of you two cooking together. He doesn’t mind the mess, he’s literally Satan, just a snap of his fingers and everything is clean!

-He definitely gives you rubber ducks as gifts almost everyday. He’ll make you personal ducks for you, a character, friend, yourself, anything! Of course, he’d never test any of the rubber ducks with abilities on you. He’ll give you those once he’s 100% sure they’re safe. Expect him to get or make you duck costumes or clothes. He’ll order some matching duck pajamas for the two of you to wear on movie nights, both of you watched DreamWorks “migration” so many times, but it’s your favorite movie, you both watch it together at least once a week.

-he’s not big on punishments. The farthest he’ll go is put you in time out. He has a stool for you in the corner of his office(with duck prints of course) and makes you sit there until you learned your lesson. He’s never hit you, or punish you physically, nor would he hurt you mentally, he loves you to much to do that.

-He would help you accomplish your dreams. He wasn’t able to accomplish his, but he can help you. He wants you to be free, to be as curious as you want, to let you learn. He wants you to be happy. He’ll give you everything he didn’t get. and, he’ll make sure you are on the right path to your life, and that you have everything you need to accomplish your goals and dreams. He’ll do make sure every obstacle is solved for you, but will also let you try to get through it on your own.

-He will never let heaven know you exist. He doesn’t want you to be targeted but them, especially exorcists. If your a sinner child, he’ll protect you with his life in his castles he’ll put you in a hidden room with him, and to keep you entertained he’ll play with toys with you, watch tv, sing to you, or just talk and tell you his past dreams. If your hellborn, then he’ll be less panicked about the extermination. But he wouldn’t let you outside, or near any of the doors and windows during that time.

-Lucifer would be very nervous to tell Charlie about you. He doesn’t want her to think he replaced her l, he just needs someone to take care of and protect that wouldn’t leave him. The day you met Charlie was the day Charlie had called him over to talk to him about getting them into heaven. And he thought it would be a “great” time to meet your older sister.

-You were Nervous, but more excited than your father. When Charlie saw you, she was overjoyed and knelt down on say hi, she was so kind and sweet to you. You were a little kid! She couldn’t be mean (if she was). She asked her father who you were and when she found out you were her adopted sister, she was both excited and heartbroken. She was upset. Not at you, her father. He was just starting another family being her back…? She would have loved to help raise you, play with you. But she can’t change the past, so she might as well make the most of your appearance now.

-After meeting Charlie, Lucifer brought you to her hotel more often after they felt with all the extermination stuff and rebuilt it. He’d leave you with Charlie for a weekend every now and then so you two could bond. You two have sleep overs all the time. Plus Vaggie. Vaggie likes getting involved, she wants to get to know you more and have someone from Charlie’s family like her more. You three have little “girls days” together, even jf alastor joins from time to time

-Speaking of Alastor, neither Charlie and Lucifer let you go near him alone. He’s too dangerous. Charlie will let you go near him, speak to him and play with him only if she is with you. Lucifer will not let you go near him at all. He tried to talk Charlie out of letting you see him, but Charlie doesn’t want to start any tension. Lucifer fears you may be taken away from him or hurt by Alastor. Charlie clearly likes Alastor more than him, and Lucifer doesn’t want it to happen again, so your interactions around Alastor are very limited here Lucifer is around.

-But he is a pretty great father otherwise. He wants to treat you right, and be there for you even if he couldn’t be there for Charlie.

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gpcwsl · 4 months ago

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Warnings: kissing, sad Lia :(.

Lia Wälti x Reader:

Moving on, together.

MasterList

The air inside Lia Wälti’s apartment was heavy with silence, the kind that lingered after too many nights spent alone and too many tears shed over someone who had already moved on. Lia sat curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her as she stared blankly at the TV. The movie playing was one she’d seen a dozen times before, but she wasn’t paying attention.

Her thoughts kept drifting back to Caitlin. Specifically, Caitlin and Katie. It wasn’t just that Caitlin had moved on so quickly after their breakup; it was who she’d moved on with. Katie McCabe—bright, fiery, and impossible to ignore. Seeing them together was like a fresh wound every time.

A knock on the door interrupted her spiraling thoughts. Lia hesitated before getting up, dragging herself to the door.

When she opened it, there you were—Y/n Y/l/n her closest friend, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other.

“I come bearing gifts,” you announced with a grin, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

“Y/n,” Lia said softly, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “You didn’t have to come over.”

You shrugged, setting the wine and snacks on the coffee table. “I know. But I wanted to.”

Lia offered a small, grateful smile before sinking back onto the couch. You joined her, uncorking the wine and pouring two glasses.

“Alright,” you said, handing her a glass. “What are we watching?”

Lia gestured vaguely at the TV. “I don’t even know. Something mindless.”

You nodded, settling in beside her. “Mindless is good. But I’m here for more than just wine and movies, you know. If you need to talk, I’m all ears.”

Lia hesitated, staring down at her wine glass. “It’s just… hard,” she admitted finally. “Seeing them together. I thought I was over it, but every time I see them, it feels like I’m back at square one.”

You placed a comforting hand on her knee. “It’s okay to feel that way, Lia. You loved her. You don’t just turn that off overnight.”

Lia looked up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Why does it feel like I’m the only one still hurting?”

“Because you’re human,” you said gently. “And because you cared deeply. But that doesn’t mean you’ll feel this way forever. It’ll get better. I promise.”

Weeks Turn Into Months

Over the next few months, you made it your mission to help Lia heal. You were there for her through everything—venting sessions, spontaneous movie nights, and even awkward encounters at team events where Caitlin and Katie were inevitably present. You never pushed her to move on before she was ready, but you gently encouraged her to take small steps toward rebuilding her happiness.

And slowly but surely, she began to heal.

What neither of you anticipated, however, was how the constant proximity and shared vulnerability would lead to something more. Lia found herself looking forward to your visits in a way that went beyond friendship. She’d catch herself staring at you when you weren’t looking, her heart skipping a beat every time you smiled at her.

It scared her. After everything she’d been through with Caitlin, the thought of opening her heart again felt impossible.

One evening, after a particularly long day of training, you and Lia found yourselves back on her couch, sharing a pizza and laughing over something silly. Lia was sprawled out on one end, her legs stretched across your lap.

“You’re terrible at this game,” she teased, watching as you struggled to beat her high score on a mobile app.

“I’m just warming up,” you retorted, your tongue poking out in concentration.

Lia laughed, the sound light and genuine. It was a sound you hadn’t heard from her in months, and it made your chest tighten with warmth.

“Thank you,” she said suddenly, her tone soft.

You looked up from your phone, surprised. “For what?”

“For… everything,” Lia said, her gaze meeting yours. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you these past few months.”

You smiled, reaching out to take her hand. “You don’t have to thank me, Lia. I care about you. That’s what friends are for.”

Lia’s breath hitched at the word friends. She wanted to tell you how much you meant to her, how her feelings had shifted into something deeper. But the fear of ruining what you already had held her back.

Instead, she squeezed your hand and said, “You’re amazing, you know that?”

It happened on a quiet night, weeks later. You were in Lia’s kitchen, washing the dishes after making dinner together. Lia stood beside you, drying them with a towel.

“Do you ever think about… us?” Lia asked suddenly, her voice tentative.

You paused, glancing at her. “Us?”

Lia hesitated, her cheeks flushing. “I mean… how close we’ve gotten. How different things feel between us now.”

Your heart began to race. “Yeah,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve thought about it.”

Lia set the towel down, her hands trembling slightly. “I think I’m in love with you,” she blurted out, the words tumbling from her lips before she could stop them.

Silence filled the room as you stared at her, stunned. Lia’s face turned red, and she looked away, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want to ruin—”

You stepped closer, cutting her off by gently taking her face in your hands. “Lia,” you said softly, tilting her head to meet your gaze. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

Before she could respond, you leaned in, pressing your lips to hers. The kiss was tender and hesitant, filled with all the emotions that had been building between you for months. Lia froze for a moment, her breath catching, before melting into the kiss, her arms wrapping around your waist.

When you finally pulled back, Lia looked at you with wide eyes, her cheeks flushed. “Does this mean…?”

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “It means I feel the same way.”

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of stolen moments and cautious steps as you and Lia navigated the shift in your relationship. There were more kisses—on the couch during movie nights, in the kitchen while making dinner, and even after training sessions when no one was looking.

But there was also fear. Lia worried about opening her heart fully, about what might happen if things didn’t work out. One night, as you sat together on her balcony, watching the stars, she voiced her concerns.

“I’m scared,” she admitted, her fingers laced with yours.

“Of what?” you asked gently.

“Of losing you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve become so important to me. I don’t want to mess this up.”

You turned to face her, your expression serious. “Lia, I’m not Caitlin. I’m not going anywhere. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together.”

Lia’s eyes filled with tears, and she leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both desperate and filled with hope.

For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to believe in love again. And this time, it felt like home.

#lia wälti x reader #lia walti #lia wälti #arsenal women #arsenal #woso community #woso fanfics

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konaharts · 1 year ago

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RadioStatic Week 2024

First Meeting

[I'm probably not going to do all the days due to work, but I wanted to draw at least this one!

I know they most likely met while Vox was building a video/tv empire in Hell, but I couldn't get this one scenario out of my head of Alastor finding Vox shortly after he arrives in Hell. Enjoy this mini-fic I wrote about it!]

The sinner was scrawny, a picture box laying on his shoulders, the glass having been broken in by the demons Alastor had just chased away. What looked like a face occasionally flashed on the screen.

The Radio Host's eyes scrunched up in disgust, his very personal feelings and opinions about televisions flooding into him. He should have passed on by.

Whoever this sinner was, he was possibly one of the most pathetic-looking sinners Alastor had ever laid his eyes upon.

Even so, a sinner down on his luck was another opportunity for a deal and another avenue to grow his power.

"My, my. You look like you've seen better days! Welcome to Hell, my good fellow!"

At the sound of the Radio Demon's voice, the newest arrival to Hell turned his head, the broken screen flashing, occasionally illuminating Alastor's face. A distorted, filtered voice with uneven volume emanates from the picture box, words occasionally repeating and stuttering due to the damage.

"H-H-Hell? W-W-Wał₮…I. I. I. I. Kn-Know th-th-₮Ⱨ₳₮ voł₵Ɇ."

Alastor paused.

"Oh?"

"A-A-Al₳₴₮ØⱤ ████████. ₣ⱤØ₥ ₮ⱧɆ ███ ███████ RadĐłØ ₴ⱧØ₩. I-I-It's beɆ₦ ɎɆ₳Ɽ₴, b-b-but I re₵Ø₲₦łⱫɆ th₳₮ vØł₵Ɇ."

This was unexpected. With the wave of his cane, Alastor's powers begin to turn the clock on the sinner's face, repairing it, piece by piece.

"You've heard of me?"

"Ⱨ₳ve I?" The last bit of machinery and glass push themselves in, the cracks instantly healing. A flash, and a now-complete face graces the screen. The distorted voice disappears, replaced by the voice of an enthusiastic man with a filter similar to Alastor's own. "Why, you're my inspiration!" The sinner's face beams with excitement.

Finally, some proper recognition in this hellhole. Alastor's grin turns into a wide smile. Dare he say, genuine, for once?

"Well, well, well! What a surprise! It's not everyday I come across someone who's heard of me before falling into the pits of Hell! Tell me,"

Alastor helps up the television man and straightens his antenna.

"What do they call you, ol' chum?"

The sinner hesitates. No doubt someone or something had informed him about how sinners tend to change their names upon arriving in Hell.

"…Vox."

A peculiar name.

"Well, Voxy, I know a place with the best drinks this side of town! Let's have a chat and get you settled in, hm?"

With an arm around his shoulder, Alastor leads Vox away. Despite his reservations with the...asset...Hell had so graciously gifted this poor soul as a head, maybe having someone with knowledge about television that he could manipulate wouldn't be so bad.

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unconventional-lawnchair · 7 months ago

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Desperate Love {Blurb}

Sirius Black x Reader / Remus Lupin x Reader / Wolfstar

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Summary: the moment you and Sirius found you were no good for each other. (This is a I'll Look After You / We'll Heal Together blurb to expand their relationship, not meant as a standalone but could be read that way)

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, Alcoholism, mentions of emotional infidelity, children, cussing, Sirius is mean and drunk, Right person wrong time

Wc-2855

A/N: There will be another post of the actual series soon!

Taglist- @otterlockholmes @stylesann @adhxmoony

You and Sirius stayed that whole night. Cleaning up around the place, taking care of Harry, and keeping the volume low. Remus came over and you and him worked to distract Harry and Sirius took a nap. That really only consisted of him staring at the muggle tv and flicking through channels. When the actual parents returned you and Sirius went home.

You went home and had one of the most vicious fights you had ever had.

When you and Sirius finally returned to your cottage, it was still early morning. The familiar smell of Sirius’s black candles, his cologne, the subtle left over smell of burning oak from the fireplace and your perfume filled the small space. It smelt like home.

You had grown so familiar, so comfortable, with the man behind you. Taking off your thick coat and hanging it for you, smiling softly as you turned to do the same. Everything you two had become was pure domestic bliss, a relationship modeled off your desires and not outside influence. Your relationship was so unapologetically you.

Sometimes that was the worst part.

You swayed your way into the kitchen, getting ready to prepare you and your fiance something to eat. You could feel his eyes on you, but he stayed quiet. Usually when he got like this he liked to stay mellow, but conversation never hurt. There was something you had been meaning to ask him, something you should have brought up years ago.

“You know, being around Harry, it makes you think.” You hummed and took down two mugs, starting to fiddle with the muggle coffee maker Lily gifted you.

“Think of what?” Sirius mumbled as he sat at the table and continued to stare at you. You glanced at him and slowly smiled, turning to face him fully.

“Lily and James. They were living. Truly living.” You gave a breathy sigh of fondness. “I admire it. Starting a family at a time like this.”

You used to wear rose tinted glasses. So in love with the idea of love, that your independent choices of who you loved made all the difference. You weren't marrying Sirius because your parents wanted you to, you were marrying him because you chose to. It was a hazy kind of bliss with the Black heir.

“Don't you think it's a bit.. foolish?” Sirius mumbled into his palm as he pulled down a book from the top of the counter and pretended to flick through the pages. You paused and slowly furrowed your brow, turning to face him. Watching as his jaw clenched and his hollowed cheeks dented.

“Foolish? Sirius, you were just telling them how happy you were about it.” You challenged and set the coffee cup down, Sirius never hesitated to say what he meant. You strained your lips, walking towards him curiously. Sirius had been ecstatic at the wedding, he had told the two the very words of praise you were speaking now. Sirius wouldn't lie so casually... You tried to catch his eye but he avoided you, he knew how well you could read him. One look in his eyes and he knew you'd see every thought, no magic required.

“Sirius, what's on your mind?” You pried and he shook his head.

“I don't want kids.” He interjected instantly. Pressing his thumb to his cheek. You felt like you had just been slapped in the face.

Now, your relationship with Sirius Black was fragile. Not that you both didn't understand what it truly was. You've loved him for three years, and he's sworn his devotion to you several times over those few years. You were both love sick and dangerous together, one of the many reasons you weren't allowed on missions together. It was like you both had something to prove.

How it all started, however? Sirius would call himself a rebound. Self deprecation was his best way to respond to the idea you had in fifth year, after Remus broke your heart. Your relationship was innocent to start, but Sirius would always toe the line. To the point James would tease you both to just go through with the wedding.

“Why don't we?” You remarked, your head lifting from Sirius shoulder and leaned forward on the couch.

“What?” Sirius muttered, looking like a deer in headlights.

“At least get engaged. If we do, we would both get access to our gringotts accounts. It was our parents only stipulation.” You continued and Sirius gave a small scoff.

“Even if I did marry you, dearest, my parents would never let me see a knut.” He chuckled, voice cracking a bit. Especially when you sent him that devilish grin.

“That's just it. It's up to the bank, not her.” You mused and Sirius slowly smirked. “You are insane.” He laughed and you bit your tongue, trying to hide a smirk.

“But as always, brilliant.” He purred and leaned down to kiss your palm, making your laugh.

It wasn't surprising the only person in the friend group who seemed against it was Remus. Even Lily supported the outlandish plan. Get engaged, collect your accounts, and call it off.

You never followed through with that last part.

“You.. don't want kids?” You repeated, a bit baffled. You had never once mentioned wanting to have a family with Sirius, but he had always made it painfully clear that was what he wanted. At least, that's what you thought.

He made absolutely sure the cabin could hold a family, two rooms, public space, a field to run in. He told you about the ideas he had, sending a child with his last name to a muggle school for his first few years would spite his mother in the best of ways. How having you as a wife was the best curse he was ever gifted by the hag. Not fiancé, wife.

It never once crossed your mind he didn't want this too.

“I don't want kids.” He muttered and you gave a deep sigh through your nose.

“That's.. that's a discussion for later.” You whispered and looked away from him. He scoffed, and you closed your eyes, sighing. When he got like this, you knew he was looking for a reaction. A reaction you refused to give.

“I don't want kids. There will be no discussion about it.” He grumbled and stood up.

You rubbed your temple and tried to focus your once loving and excitable energy on the more serious topic. The conversation he seemed so desperate to have.

He watched you try and calm yourself before he began to stand and grabbed his coffee cup and the expensive bottle of scotch on the shelf you had since you first moved in. James’s house warming gift.

You watched him start to open it and winced a bit. “Sirius, please, not now of all times.” You whispered and he scoffed.

“Seems appropriate. I just watched you play house with my best mate for hours, might as well.” His words were bitter and to the point, cutting through the rose tints you adorned and let you see the house more clearly. Thick layer of dust clinging to the lights you never clean, the hazy warmth of the yellow glow seemed much more like a medical white, and Sirius Black looked like the boy you hoped stayed at Hogwarts. Bitter and childish. Sharp and unapologetic.

He reminded you of what this was.

Once you processed what he said, you gawked at him. Eyes wide before your expression turned to slight anger as he continued to open the bottle and poured himself a decent amount of liquor, shooting it back. You watched as his hair fell down his jaw and seemed to frame the pale bobbing throat.

Sirius had just broken this habit, closing in on himself at the slightest push back. As if the demand of affections and attention from someone he didn't think he deserved was too much for him, and seeing Remus, someone Sirius seemed to believe was perfect for you, look at you like you could ail all his illnesses, mend every wound physically for emotion. Wounds Sirius himself marked you both with, it was pushing him closer and closer to an end you couldn't bare to see him meet.

“Sirius, you can't possibly be genuine.” You spoke carefully and Sirius gave a bitter laugh over the tail end of your words. Your expression turned sour, trying to hold back as your body shook and your shoulders square. You were fantastic with confrontation. Not when no party was truly in the wrong. There was no enemy in these matches of wit and skillful pin pricks to your hearts, aiming to scar more often than not.

“Do you think I'm daft, {L/N}?”

It was always the same conversation, the same points that broke skin on contact and contracted around your throat. Like the snake he was born to be, a boa to your neck and a cottonmouth striking you deaf. He wasn't the lion he claimed to be on nights like this.

He was a coward, hiding behind the drinks he threw back. Tomorrow, he would act as if nothing had happened. Showering you with adoration and love he swore he could take from you without a blink of an eye the night before.

“Don't-” You were too, a coward, that was. The snake you were born to be, the snake you became, coiling in itself and begging for him to loosen his grasp and return to your game of pretend.

“You don't think I see how he looks at you?” He slammed the mug on the counter. “He isn't over you. He saw you with Harry and I swear I could have offered him a cure for his furry problem and he wouldn't have looked away!” His voice boomed and you shook your head, turning to walk away. It pained you beyond belief to be reminded of how cruel he could be. How much of a Black he truly would become when rage met his weaknesses. He hated weakness, love was weakness. Some days, that was all you needed to know he loved you. His cruelty.

Sirius let out another string of profanities.

“I'm not doing this. No. We just got some fantastic news, Sirius. We just met our godson. You will not spoil it with your nonsense!” You shouted back and he took another shot. Drowning himself into the numbing elixir, taking away none of his pain and replacing his relational thought with reactive passion. You seemed to pick them that way, Severus, Sirius, Remus… Behaviors begging for reaction. Begging for you to care.

“You want a child so bad? Go and have Lupin’s. I'm sure he's more than happy to provide that service. Right after he's done howling at the moon and feeding on-.” Sirius declared to the roof, hands outstretched. You did your best to level yourself out, but slander to your shared friends was not something you could ignore.

“Sirius Black! You bite your tongue!” You shouted back and he scoffed, making you roll your jaw and close your eyes. Trying to steady your breathing. You hated to be angry. “... Sirius, it's been a long night. We haven't slept yet, you're drinking,” You gestured to him pouring yet another shot. Sighing heavily. “I want to sleep. I just- let's not talk about this.”

“Just like you. You're just so ready to drop it. Why's that? Hm? You don't want to slip up? Admit you want him too?” He taunted like a child. You shook your head and tried to calm yourself further. Reminding yourself every strike he took at you wasn't for you. It's a manifestation of his own feelings of guilt and stress, his awful and over used love language.

“Sirius, you're being cruel and vindictive-”

“Merlin, woman! Will you talk to me like a person! Forget the self help books! Tell me what you really feel!”

“You want to know how I truly feel?” You snapped back and he seemed to respond more the more angry you got.

“Yes! Merlin, finally! Give me a fucking crumb of life in your words. Like you bloody mean it!” He ranted and you began to pace, mirroring his erratic movements through the kitchen, as he waited impatiently. Your snake ready to strike as he continued to hiss and brandish his fangs at you.

“I think you think I'm a fool.” You shouted at him and he seemed absolutely giddy at the reaction. “I think you are hurting me because you're in pain and won't admit it!”

“That so?” He gave a laugh and it made you flinch. “I'm in pain? Is that what that book you love to read diagnoses me with? Oh, Doctor, what are my woes?” He prodded and you snatched the drink away from him as he tried to pour himself more. You capped it and sealed it away in the cabinet of other half drank bottles from arguments and parties over the years. “I think you're the fool? You're the fool who doesn't know what's going on in my head?”

“Yes! I think you think I'm a fool. Sirius, you want me to give up on you.” You demanded with a chilling calm. Sirius didn't seem pleased with this.

“Either that or you think I'd just ignore the painful fact that you've been in love with Remus since Hogwarts!” You snapped back and his jaw went slack. You stared daggers at him and he suddenly tightened his expression, your snake clinging to his neck and injecting years worth of your bane. He wasn't so excited anymore.

“What are you talking about?”

“The glitter incident? The jealous looks? The constant badgering? The dance? You clung to him like he was the last man on this earth.” You rattled on, speaking over Sirius whenever he opened his mouth. “I believe you love me, Sirius. I really do. But you need to analyze what exactly is making you so jealous about me and Remus. Is it that he's in love with me? Or is it that it's not you?”

Sirius slowly set his mug down and you sighed. Taking a few more breaths before you spoke slowly. “No one calls their friend ‘My Moony,’ Sirius. No one does. No one convinces his friends to keep a mandrake leaf in their mouth for a month to help them through a full moon. One friend who can't bloody shut up!”

You stopped your pacing and stared daggers into his eyes. He was speechless, paralysis from your venom taking over as he stammered to collect himself.

“I don't.. I..” Sirius’s voice was low, as if he was grappling with the news himself. You stared at him in shock. How had he not realized?

“I thought loving you would be enough.” You spoke carefully, steady, and Sirius shook his head. Flushed from the buzz in his mind. “I do love you, you know that? I think it's unfair. You love us both, but I'm wrong for wanting Remus in my life?”

You stepped closer and got a good look at his eyes, finally able to see the turmoil and desperation behind it. Then you found it. So much regret you yourself almost fell into it. “.. I'm over him, Sirius.” You whispered softly. “I have been waiting for you to be too. Merlin, you,” your breath caught in your throat. “You haven't even asked about a wedding date.”

Sirius opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Truly regretting drinking. Slowly, he shook his head and rubbed the bottom of his palms against his eyes. “... it seems you've given me too much credit.” He muttered.

Your throat tightened and you slowly closed your eyes. “I love you, Sirius.”

“And him.”

“You.” You repeated. “And I think you need to get your priorities in order. I truly do. I thought love would turn you into a man I deserve, like this would be the answer but,” You gestured to the alcohol. “It hadn't been. You made a choice at Hogwarts, and I think we both know you regret it.”

Sirius began to swirl his half empty coffee mug and stared down at the brown drink. He wet his lips and gave a strained laugh. “I think we both do.” He whispered and you closed your eyes.

“Figure it out, Sirius.” You whispered and pulled off the ring from your finger, setting it on the counter. You don't look at Sirius, but you could hear his sound of defeat. Instantly the regret rushed over him.

“{Y/N}-”

“When you are ready for me. I will be proud to wear it. Until then, figure out what you want.”

You waited months for Sirius to come back to you, tell you everything he's learned and lost, that he didn't want to lose you. He never did.

There was fault in both sides. You didn't ask him to forget about Remus, you wouldn't be so hypocritical. You wanted him to choose you. He never did, it was a reminder that it was simply a plan. A plan you should have cut off years ago.

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