#I mean he could have had a small moment of surprise | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugarlywhispers · 2 days ago

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b.katsuki x reader (fem) | quirkless!reader, prohero!dynamight, arranged marriage au.

a.n; fare warning, THIS IS A MONSTER<3 lol

Fuckin' Marry Me Series | First Part | Second Part |

The gentle sound of the scribble your pen makes over the paper, right where it requires your formal signature, is heard louder than you expected in that tense silence. Well, it isn't a bad silence, but more like an anxious one. One that has Bakugou, who is sitting right next to you, literally shaking his right leg up and down continuously, even though you already told him you would do this.

And what does ‘this’ mean? It means you agreed to marry Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki. To help him finally be free from his own mother's clutches.

You had a hard time believing in the whole story he told you when he knocked on your door last Sunday morning –almost tearing down the door actually– after his father died. Even though you had agreed that same day, you asked him for a few days to clear your head a bit. He accepted, respecting your space even at work, which was weird.

A normal day at work always starts with a banter with this same man right at the entrance of the company and it follows until you enter the elevator. Everyone is already used to it, so they ignore both of you. It mostly ends when you have to get off on the floor where your office is, which is one under the one where all heroes keep their hero costumes and get changed. Of course, sometimes the banter would continue if you were assigned to work with Hero Dynamight through the earbuds that connected you at a distance.

That Monday morning though, was different. Weird for everyone who looked at both of you in shock. The moment you stood in front of the other right outside the company, everyone was waiting for it to happen, yet found themselves opening their eyes wide in surprise as you and Bakugou simply bowed slightly in hello and walked towards the building in complete silence. It followed inside the elevator, where he willingly stood next to you –you always stood on each side of it to avoid even accidentally touching. Nobody could believe their eyes. Especially when it was your moment to walk out on your floor and he said, “See ya’ around”, and you turned your head towards him and slightly smiled, murmuring a timidly, “You too. Take care outside.”

That day you weren't assigned to work with him, nor the two days after –in which these same actions and words were repeated by both of you every morning– yet you could feel the whispers and gossip around about this neutral ground between you two. Your boss even called you to his office to ask if everything was okay.

You internally laughed at the situation. It was so normal for you to fight with Bakugou that everyone found it weird and worrisome if you didn't. It was actually hilarious.

Wednesday shift had you entering the office at 5 p.m. and would have you leaving at almost 3 a.m. –if the hero assigned to you didn't get caught in a villain fight around that time. So when you were about to take the elevator and its door opened, you almost bumped into a freshly showered and already leaving Bakugou Katsuki.

“Oh, hey…”

“Hey,” he answered back. Both of you took a step out of the elevator, standing right in front of each other. One of his hands flew to the back of his head, scratching it and making small droplets of his still wet hair fall as he spoke, “I was, ummm, gonna talk to you today… but, umm, your shift…”

“Oh yeah, it's night shift today,” you nodded, hands holding the strap of your bag, trying to look casual and not let the nerves be shown. “Yours finished?”

“Yeah, tomorrow's night shift for me.”

“I know, I'm with you tomorrow,” you smiled.

His eyebrows pulled up, nodding in acceptance, “Cool.”

Yours frown, tilting your head a bit to the side, “Is it? Since when?” Now that you think about it, all that neutral ground between you two was very weird. New, but weird.

He rolled his eyes, hands hiding inside the pockets of his jacket.

“Since I'm trynna marry y–”

“Shhhh! Shut it, not here!” He smirked arrogantly. Ah, there's the comeback of the old annoying Bakugou.

“I–...”

“KATSUKI!”

A screeching yell made the hairs of your arms stand in alert, completely unexpected for you. Yet for the man in front of you was a sound he was very familiar with. He grunted, his mood completely changing into anger as he turned around towards the yell.

“The fuck are you doing here, old hag?”

Oh. His mother.

You have seen her at a distance before, never actually got to meet her personally or even hear her voice –you were glad about that last particular fact though, she sounded awful.

You didn't miss to recognize the position Bakugou had you at the moment when he turned around and covered your small form behind his massive body from his mother to even acknowledge your presence there. You're grateful for his surprising and kind of sensitive tact. He's giving you an out from that, what you know for sure was going to be, a quite tense moment.

“I fucking told you, you need to hurry! I’m not fucking waiting for you any longer!” She yelled again, not caring at all about the place she was nor the people around in the lobby.

Bakugou looked to the side, taking a very deep breath before pinching his nose. His hand then hung loosely on the side of his body, but he kept opening and closing his hand in a fist. Oh wow, he was really holding himself back.

You didn't know what possessed you to do what you did or why, but you acted before thinking.

Your hand flew towards his, holding his trembling fist tightly. You knew it took him by surprise, but he hid it well by standing straighter, body still hiding you behind him. You knew for a fact that his face didn’t show any emotion other than anger, so nothing was amiss. His arm flexed behind him, bringing yours with his, as his hand opened and held yours tightly back.

This had been the very first time you willingly touched him. The first time you actually ever touched him at all. And your eyes couldn't leave the sight of his big hand fully surrounding yours, making you feel smaller than ever. I mean, you had eyes, he was a freaking hulk next to you. But the warm feeling of it enclosing yours securely made you feel safe, protected. It also felt calloused, a hand that was used every day to bring down bad guys and protect a whole nation, if not the world. Yet the warmth in it made your whole body tingle.

Fuck. What was this?

“I fuckin’ told you not to come in the first place,” he didn't need to yell, his voice sounded loud and clear even at the distance.

“HURRY THE FUCK UP!”

You tightened your hold on his hand, just to ground him in support. He sighed, returning the gesture to thank you before saying in his mother's direction, “I'm fuckin’ going, you pain in the ass”, and walked towards her, letting go of your hand.

His mother simply turned and walked in front of him outside of the building. She never realized you had been there the whole time.

The moment had been so stressful, and if that was what Bakugou had to deal with every day since he was born, damn. You actually felt sorry for him.

Thanks to the glass walls of the lobby you could watch the Bakugous walk towards the expensive car waiting for them outside. They were clearly shit-talking to each other the whole way, until before they got inside the car, his mother actually slapped the back of his head strongly. Twice.

A rising rage traveled up your body, hands closing in fists. What the fuck?! Who the fuck did she think she was? Why the hell did she need to fucking hit him like that, twice? Why the hell did she do it at all? Fuck, you were starting to believe in everything Bakugou told you about her.

“You get it now, don't you?” Izuku's voice from behind you made you jump a bit in surprise.

You cleared your throat, looking elsewhere and breathing deeply, trying to clear your head.

“I don't–”

Izuku's hand raised, making you go silent. “Before you come up with a clever excuse, let me remind you that Kacchan and I have been friends since diapers… and we talk to each other.”

His eyeing made you gulp, but his words were clear enough, “You know then.”

He nodded, hand detaining the elevator’s doors so you both could enter, him after you. “He came to my apartment right after and told me all that happened. I was at the funeral too.”

He didn't need to explain anymore, it was more than clear he was talking about last Sunday when Bakugou asked you to marry him. You knew his father had died sometime Saturday afternoon and that the funeral was held that same night. Bakugou had come to your apartment right after his father had been cremated.

“I know you two fight like cats and dogs all the time, but he's not that bad once you give him a chance. And by what you just saw, I know you understand now why he's always on the defensive.”

You sigh. Damn it, you do. Growing up in an environment like that made you think it was actually a miracle Bakugou turned out the way he did.

“I also know that you agreed to marry him to help him be finally free from his mother,” he confirmed out loud once the doors of the elevator closed and it was just the two of you in there.

“Any advice?”

He chuckled, turning his whole body and looking directly at you, “Be open-minded. Kacchan's mouth sometimes opens before he thinks and his words don't mean what he actually intended, but his actions speak louder than anything.”

You rolled your eyes. Ugh, you were feeling the stress already.

The elevator signaled that you had arrived at your floor, so you sighed, nodding in his way as an answer and walking outside. But before the doors closed, Izuku held them for a bit longer to talk again.

“Also… Be smarter.”

“Than him?” You asked confused.

“Than her.”

And with that, he let the doors close, a smile plastered on his face that told on all the mischief his eyes shined with.

This little… cheeky bastard.

The audacity.

You made a mental note to punch Izuku the next time you bumped into him. On purpose.

Throughout the rest of the day, you couldn't get that image of Bakugou being abused by his own mother out of your head. Because yes, it was fucking abuse. And in fucking public! How many times had this happened already? And why the fuck no one had ever said or done anything against it? Even when he was a kid?!

It was outrageous.

And the fact that Bakugou held himself back, because you knew he did, not only because she was his mother but also because she was a woman –and you could bet she fucking used that at her advantage– only spoke about the kind of man he was.

Bakugou Katsuki is a good man.

You took your cell phone out and searched for his contact number, your fingers flying over the keyboard.

You: Make the appointment for this Friday.

His reply didn't take long.

Bakugou K.: Done.

You took a deep breath. The decision was made. And you were not going to back out from it. Or so you hoped.

Another notification made your phone ring and it was another text message.

Bakugou K.: Thank you.

The beginning of a smile threatened to break out from your mouth as you re-read that message several times. Until the loud pip-ing that alerted a villain attack completely distracted you, or more like, brought you back to reality.

The rest of the days went faster than you expected.

The shift on Wednesday ended on time, miraculously. So at exactly 3 a.m. you were turning off your computer and putting your stuff back in your bag. You had several notifications on your phone but didn't feel like giving them your attention at that moment, choosing to concentrate on clearing your space and going back home. You let out several yawns when you got inside the elevator, holding yourself on the handrail, sleep having you on the verge of passing out tired of the stressful days. For some reason, villains chose that week to be more active than usual, which demanded more of your focus and being in constant alert mode.

When the doors finally opened on the lobby floor, you walked towards the check-in clock to mark the end of your shift. You bowed goodbye to the receptionist and walked towards the entrance of the company. For a moment, you entertained your mind with the idea of taking a taxi to get home faster. But damn it, that was expensive, and you were not going to waste money like that. And even if you wanted to, you couldn't.

You sighed, covering your neck as best as you could with your coat once you crossed the doors, and began your walk in the direction you needed to go. It was a very chilly night, but because it was Spring, you didn't expect such cold weather.

You were thinking about how you'd have to resist this coldness until you got home when you looked up and recognized Bakugou's obviously expensive car and him resting against it, arms crossed over his chest.

“What are you doing here?”

“You didn't check your messages, short-legs?”

You denied, head shaking, “I finished the shift and packed everything. Wanted to leave as soon as possible…”

He snorted, shaking his head, “Get in. I'll take you home.”

“Oh, it's okay. I can walk…”

He frowned, “The fuck you think I would be here for then? Get in the car, dumbass.”

“Geez. Okay! No need to get grumpy, asshole.”

You rounded his car towards the passenger seat and climbed in. He followed and got on the driver's side.

The inside was warm, as the heater had been on. You smiled gladly, rubbing your freezing-cold hands to warm them up faster.

“Can't believe you were planning to walk home. Are you stupid?”

You opened your mouth, ready to fire back, but Izuku's words invaded your mind.

“…Kacchan's mouth sometimes opens before he thinks and his words don't mean what he actually intended, but his actions speak louder than anything…”

You thought for a moment, and it was actually easier than you thought to figure it out. Bakugou wasn't actually trying to insult you. He was worried that you would walk home that early in the morning, when the sun wasn't even out yet, in that weather.

Oh. That changed the perspective entirely.

“Yeah, actually,” you chuckled, hands still rubbing to heat them up. “I can't afford a taxi, and the subway isn't open yet.”

He turned on the car, but his attention was on you, “What you mean you can't afford a stupid taxi? Isn't your pay–…”

You denied, body relaxing a bit over the seat thanks to the warmth as he drove smoothly. You liked warm things. Spring was your favorite season because of it.

“Contrary to common belief, Quirk & Training Specialists don't gain much.”

“What?! Why? I mean… Most of the time is thanks to your area that we heroes are fuckin’ alive.”

“Awww. Thank you for admitting it! Now, would you admit that publicly?”

“Of fuckin’ course I would!”

You smiled, “Well, you would be the first one. Tell me, do you think other heroes would willingly admit that their wins sometimes belong to a ghost that tells them what to do or where to go through their earbuds?”

Your words made him close his mouth. Aha. Touché.

You chuckled, “It's okay, Bakugou. It's my job.”

“Now that I think about it, your name is nowhere to be seen in my reports. It's not even fuckin’ mentioned as a sidekick or something.”

“That's because I'm not a sidekick. I'm just a quirkless person who is observant enough to point you the best way to go. I'm not that important…”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You looked at him, trying to decipher what he meant. He didn't mean to insult you, what he was trying to say is, “don't say that about yourself”.

Wow. Izuku was so right about that advice. You made a mental note to thank him the next time you saw him. After punching him, of course.

The rest of the car ride was silent. But not uncomfortable. The gentle sound of the heater turned on was relaxing enough to even doze you a bit, warm and content.

Bakugou didn't speak until he parked right in front of your apartment building. You immediately noticed you had probably slept the rest of the way.

“I'm sorry, I think I fell asleep.”

“You think?” He chuckled, face looking your way. You snorted back, finding his teasing funny. His crooked smile made tingles run up your arms. Or was it the heater? Yes, that probably was it, the heater.

You cleared your throat and looked down at your seat belt and untied it –wait. You didn't remember putting it on. Did he… Did he put it on you when you fell asleep? Oh, my. You gulped, feeling the tingles run all over your body again. Fuck. You needed to leave that small space you shared with this man, like… now.

But before you did, you looked back at him one more time.

“Thank you… for driving me home,” you pulled a rebellious strand of hair behind your ear and smiled. You were indeed grateful that you actually didn't have to freeze on your way home, so you bowed slightly too.

You were about to open the door when he spoke.

“Wait,” you turned back at him and watched curiously as he opened the compartment, taking out a small folder.

He pushed it in your direction and looked expectantly at you. You took it, a bit doubtful, not quite understanding what it meant.

“I said I would sign a contract if that's what you wanted. It's just a draft, but I put some items in there that I want you to check. You can add some yourself. And if we both agree, we can sign it.”

Oh. “Oh, okay… I'll check it out and let you know.”

He nodded in response and you finally got out of the car and ran through the shocking cold towards your building. Inside the elevator, you pressed the folder over your chest. This felt way more real than what you felt earlier when you made the final decision and texted him.

But something tasted a bit… bitter. Was this something you had to do on your own? Like, the marriage was between the both of you. And while it wasn’t one out of a loving relationship, it was still something that included both. This contract thing felt like something you needed to sit down and review together.

You decided then.

Your hand searched for your phone in your bag, and ignoring all the notifications, you directly made the call.

Not one ring later, he picked up the call.

“Are you o–...”

“Did you leave?” You interrupted him before he could say anything else.

“No, I'm still down here.”

“Umm, are you tired? Cause if you are we can definitely leave it for tomorrow, or better said later, but I slept through the car ride so I'm not that tired anymore, but if you think–”

“Cut the fuckin’ rambling. Go to the point, short-legs.”

You sighed, fingers sliding through your hair and pulling it back. “If you want, he can revise this now. I think it's better if we do it together.”

You heard the intake of a deep breath, a relieved one, before he said, “Yeah… Okay. I'm on my way up.” The sound of the car's door closing confirmed he was on his way.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” He repeated and then ended the call.

It took you both three hours and just one heated discussion to come to terms with each of the items. Both satisfied with the consensual agreements, you brought out your laptop and rewrote it. You printed two copies, one for each, that you both signed. That's how the contract was ready and done. Now the next and final step would be the marriage in front of a judge. That Friday. In one day.

“We need two witnesses,” you reminded him, to which he grunted.

“Right, I forgot about that.”

“Well, we already know who you are picking…”

He pulled up an eyebrow, looking in your direction, “Huh? And who am I picking, know-it-all?”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless, “Izuku.”

He tched, not admitting it out loud, but it was obvious you were right.

You chose to let it be and not cause any banter, mostly because you definitely felt more tired than a few hours back.

“Smart-ass. Then who are you picking, mmh?”

You shrugged, “I don't know. I was thinking Mina,” his groan made you chuckle, “but I think Jirou would keep a low profile better.”

“Yeah, good thinking.” You nodded in agreement. You loved Mina, and you knew he did too, but she couldn't keep things down sometimes. And one of the items was to keep a low profile throughout the whole marriage thing. Bakugou hated the press and paparazzi, and you weren't a fan of them either. Even though you had never been the center of attention of them, you actually preferred to keep it that way. On the low and as invisible as possible.

Thursday went very quiet and chill, which was very surprising considering it was Dynamight's shift. Sometimes, villains made you think they had a particular masochistic side and loved appearing whenever Pro Hero Dynamight was around. Some of them even loved to provoke him on purpose so he would yell all those obscenities towards them. And they enjoyed it. Freaks.

But not that Thursday. It had been a very peaceful one. It even found you chatting with Bakugou through the earbuds.

“So what now, ya’ gonna fuckin’ tell me Endeavor is better than All Might?”

“Oh, shut up, you All Might-obsessed-freak! I will admit All Might was huge, but you can't deny Endeavor stood his ground and made big stuff too.”

“Like fuckin’ what?”

“The fight with the nomu–”

“HA! Please! That was child's play. All Might took down AFO.”

“Yeah. But it was Deku who won against him in the end, not him. And All Might only fought twice against AFO. Endeavor killed a powerful nomu.”

“You are so fuckin’ blind!”

“You are the blind one!”

“How could you say Endeavor is better than All Might?!”

“I did not say that!”

“Wait– then what did y–?”

“I just said, Endeavor was N° 1 too. He was a Hero too. He deserves a bit of recognition.”

You could hear Bakugou’s snort, “So you like them complicated and misunderstood…”

Bakugou’s malice in his teasing was palpable, yet you always had an answer for him.

“Well… What does that say about you?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up!”

If you had been paying attention to your surroundings, you would have noticed all your co-workers smiling at your cute banter with Bakugou. Yet you were so invested in it, you didn't notice.

Conversations that also led to getting to know each other a little bit more also happened.

“I like orange. You?”

The question took you by surprise after almost half an hour of silence from both ends. Yet, it didn't surprise you at all his preference in color. It was kind of obvious.

“Figures. It doesn't surprise me at all–”

“What the fuck does that mean?!”

“Mine is purple.”

“Why?”

“Ummm, I don't know. I always pictured that if I had become a Hero, my costume would be purple. I decided that even before I knew if I had a Quirk or not.”

You had said it in a conversational tone, never intended to make him feel some type of way. Yet, he still asked, “And is still your favorite, even after–”

“–after I found out I am quirkless? Yes. Why wouldn't it be?”

“Mmmh,” was his simple answer.

The shift ended peacefully and on time, which both of you were grateful for, considering what the following day was.

When the shift was over, you waited a considerate couple of minutes. Minutes it would take the heroes to come back from their shift to the company. Then, you got inside the elevator but instead of going down, you went one floor up.

Your phone rang with a notification.

Bakugou K.: You asked her yet?

You rolled your eyes. So impatient.

You: No, I'm about to. I'm on your floor.

Bakugou K.: Slow ass.

You still wanted to punch him, sometimes.

You put your phone back inside your bag as you walked towards the girls’ wing of the floor, completely avoiding even looking at the boys' wing way. You knocked two times before Ochako opened the door slightly to look who it was.

“Oh, hi, Y/N!”

“Y/N!”

“Hi!”

“Hello, Y/N.”

“HI BABY!!”

All the girls present that shift greeted you cheerfully, especially Mina. You greeted back while entering the room and closing the door behind you.

You chatted with all of them here and there as they got changed, not an ounce of shyness between all of you. You were friends with almost all of them, having already worked with the majority of the girls and hung out with them many times. You knew almost all about them. Their sleep faces, their ugly cries, their drunk personalities. All of it. And they knew you too. That's why you didn't need to be subtle at all when you said, “I actually need to speak with Jirou for a moment”. Everyone understood and took it nicely as they hurried a bit their way into their clothes and grabbed their stuff before leaving you two alone.

All of them knew you and Jirou had a special friendship, a close one. She was the one you always went to when you really needed to confide in someone with something deep within you. The same thing was for Jirou. You were actually the first one of all to know when Denki confessed his feelings to her, and even talked her through her own ‘secret’ feelings for him.

“What's up, buddy?” She straddled one of the benches and sat, patting the place in front of her for you to follow.

You sat in front of her crossing your legs under you, your bag actually forgotten on the floor down the bench.

“I'm going to tell you something, but I need you to keep an open mind and listen to it all before you say anything.”

She jerked her head back a bit, already feeling confused, “You're scaring me already.”

“You have no idea…” You sighed and began the tell-tale.

Her eyes kept opening wider and wider with each thing you told her about what had been happening with you and Bakugou these last days.

What it felt like probably an hour later, you finished with, “So, that's why… we are going to get married tomorrow.”

Jirou fastly stood up, almost jumping a few steps back, and pointed a finger at you.

“That's it! That's why you have been so civil to each other! I knew something was up with– WAIT,” oh yeah, you thought she hadn't quite listened to what you just said. But then it came, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! Y/N!! YOU'RE FUCKING JOKING.”

You shook your head, “No, I'm not.” The calmness and firm tone in which you answered made her sidetrack tons in her own reaction, as she sat back down in front of you and took your hands in hers.

“Honey, it isn't your obligation to do any of this. You know that, right?”

You smiled, the clear worry in Jirou's eyes warming your little heart. You had such a good friend.

“I do. But I want to do this. For him.” You were sincere, and you knew Jirou could see it in your eyes too.

“Even though you don’t like each other??”

“Even though we don’t like each other.”

You repeated, but your tone was decisive. Jirou looked at you silently for a moment, then sighed and nodded.

“Okay… Whatever you choose, I'm here for and with you.” Your arms immediately surrounded her neck in a hug. She returned it gladly, patting your back in reassurance. “And if he hurts you, just tell me. I'll make him pay.”

You laughed amusingly. “I know you will. But this isn't the only thing I'm here for.”

She groaned, “There's more?! I don't know how much my heart can take...”

“Well, will it survive if I ask you to be my witness tomorrow?”

Jirou's eyes filled with tears before it was her turn to surround your neck in a tight hug.

“I'll take that as a yes,” you both giggled, hugging each other tight.

Twenty minutes later you were both leaving the building of the company and you walked her towards the motorcycle parking lot where she had hers.

“I'll text you the location in the morning.”

“Alright, I can't wait for it!” She said excitedly, but then, she looked more intently at you. “I just want to say, this thing you're doing is beyond heroic. You're literally being a Hero right now.”

Her words touched something inside you that made you want to cry like a baby. Something so deep it made you feel like floating away with the harsh galloping your heart made against your chest. It didn't make sense, yet it actually did.

You gulped looking down at your feet, strongly holding back the cry that threatened to be released right in your throat.

“You need a ride back home?” She asked, completely ignoring –for your sake and out of respect– your glassy eyes.

“I'll take her home,” Bakugou's voice in the distance surprised both of you, yet you had been expecting something like this to happen. Something told you he would be waiting you after his shift.

Jirou looked at you waiting for your approval, and when you nodded, she put on her helmet and turned on her bike. You walked towards where Bakugou was standing with Jirou riding next to you, and when she was next to him, she said, “You better take care of my friend, or I'll come for your ass, don't care you're my friend too.”

Bakugou snorted, “I know you will, Ears.” He smiled, pulling down her face shield to annoy her. She punched him friendly on the shoulder before waving and driving away.

“She said yes then.”

You both began walking towards what you thought he had parked his car. “Yep. What did Izuku say?”

He rolled his eyes, “You know he said yes.”

You smiled, “I know, I was just being friendly and asked.”

“Smart-ass.”

“I am really going to punch you again, don't tempt me.”

“Yeah… If that one punch could be considered a punch, it would be ‘again’.”

“Oh, so you do want me to…”

You tried to reach his shoulder, but this time he was fast enough to dodge it expertly. “You really are slow, huh?” He mocked walking backwards and smirking.

“You want slow, asshole…”

He laughed, turning around and running away as you ran towards him trying to catch him.

He was a stupidly fast idiot.

So now, it is Friday, and you sit right next to Bakugou Katsuki. Both of you are in front of a judge who is officially marrying you. Jirou sits on your left, while Izuku sits on Bakugou's right. And you have just finished writing your signature where the bride's one goes. Bakugou has already signed his. It isn't until you put the pen down on the table that Bakugou stops bouncing his leg and breathes in deep.

You want to laugh, finding his nerves quite funny. But you get it. This means more than just marriage to him.

It's freedom.

And you can't even imagine how nerve-racking that must feel for him. After all these years that he had to follow his mother's command and will just so he could follow his own dream, now he would be free.

That in itself brings you such a happy feeling for him.

If anyone would have ever told you that you would be doing this for none other than Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki, you would have sent them to a psychiatrist. Immediately.

Fate is a strange thing.

After the turn for the witnesses to sign, the judge says boringly, “By the authority vested in me by the government of Tokyo, I pronounce you husband and wife.”

He doesn't even wait nor expect the newlyweds to kiss or exchange rings as he closes the book and gives Bakugou the previous enrollment you both signed.

And that is it. You are officially married to Bakugou Katsuki.

“Who are you with on today's shift? What time are you out?”

His questions make you come back to reality after a quiet drive toward the company in his car, which you spend looking at the golden ring that now adorns your left hand. When you look up, the shining of the golden ring on his left hand catches your attention as he circles the steering wheel so the car turns on a corner, the company appearing in your view in the distance.

“Umm, I'm with Izuku. If everything goes well, at 3 a.m.”

“Okay. I’ll come pick you up.”

“Bakugou, it’s okay, I can walk home,” you insist for the nth time.

“Bullshit–”

“–Besides, you have morning patrol tomorrow,” you continue, completely ignoring his dirty mouth, “You can’t interrupt your sleep like this every time I have this shift. You need to be awake for your job.”

He grunts, muttering something that you can’t quite decipher what he said. You roll your eyes, thinking he acts like a petulant child sometimes.

A moment later, Bakugou enters the parking lot with his car, to which you look confused at him. Why is he entering the company on his day off?

He answers even before you can articulate your words, “I need to pick up some unfinished reports I have to turn in tomorrow.”

You pull up an eyebrow, untying the seatbelt and getting out of his car once he finally parks, “Wow. Dynamight is lacking on his paperwork?”

“Shut up, short-legs.”

You snort at his lighthearted insult as you walk together inside the company. But right when you both cross the big doors, Bakugou stops and looks at you. You frown confused, he then motions down with his head and you see his hand open, waiting. Oh, right.

Item n°2: Act like we are in a real relationship. The lawyers for the companies always investigate deeper into each hero, so that their status and validation of mental sanity are correlated.

You put your hand over his, both closing on each other, its warmth making those damn tingles run up your arm. But neither of you says anything as you walk through the lobby of the company holding hands.

Everyone who looks opens their eyes wide, one of the receptionists even spills her coffee drink out of shock. You hold yourself from laughing. Another of the receptionists looks you up and down, a clear disgusted expression on her face. Ops. Well, it’s not like you liked her either.

However, both you and Bakugou walk with your heads held high. You know how shocking and out of character the image of you both holding hands like a couple looks. And fast, everything happened so fast. You can already hear the gossip about whatever this is that you might have with Bakugou is way too fast. But you haven’t done everything you did for them. It is for him. As surprising as that sounds, even for you.

He walks with you towards the clock where you have to mark your entrance, never dropping your hand as you do. Then, you walk together to the elevator waiting for it to arrive. As you wait and look down at your shoes, you feel before you actually see his other hand moving, fingers brushing against your ear when he tugs a strand of your hair that had been over your face. Surprised, you look up at him but still smile in thanks.

Bakugou retracts his hand quickly and puts it inside the pocket of his jacket, looking back at the elevator. You would tease him for the little blush his cheeks are showing, but you decide it’s not the moment, considering how all eyes are on you two.

When it arrives and you get in, standing very close to each other while watching how everyone tries to peep inside to see if you’re still holding hands or if anything else happens between you two, you both jolt a bit when a wild and hurried Izuku suddenly enters the elevator, jacket half off and hair disheveled. He also looks in surprise at you two, eyes traveling down at your connected hands. A shit-eating grin appears on his face as the doors of the elevator close.

“Shut up.”

Bakugou and you speak at the same time.

Izuku snorts, hands in the air in a sign of surrender. “Wasn’t going to say anything…”

“I sense a ‘but’...” You roll your eyes, and Bakugou hums in agreement.

The greenette smiles wider, “But I understand now why everyone was looking like they saw All Might in person.”

Bakugou insults him, just because he always wants to have the final say, making Izuku laugh out loud amused. You decide to ignore both of them until the elevator arrives at your floor.

“Don’t blow up the elevator,” you warn them both after Izuku answers back at Bakugou, just to spite him. Your hand gives Bakugou one last squeeze in goodbye before walking out, “I’m with you today, Izuku.”

“Oh, cool! I’ll get connected in a bit.” You nod in his direction and look at Bakugou one last time, smiling and waving.

The doors close and you don’t get to see him smile back at you.

The shift, as always with Pro Hero Deku, is not calm or chill. It’s hectic and dangerous, and it keeps demanding all your focus and senses on alert.

“You know, sometimes I believe you have a magnet for trouble stuck up in your ass…” you hear Izuku spill the drink he must have been probably about to swallow. You chuckle devilishly. Wow, two times in a day you make someone spill their drink, that must be a record.

“Damn. Not twenty-four hours of being married to him, and you are already influenced.”

“Oh, shut it,” you both laugh amicably.

Again, the pip-ing of alert sounds in your computer. You sigh, “Deku, another threat five streets down where you’re at now.”

“On my way!”

“See? A magnet in your ass…” Izuku laughs.

You both don’t get to chat about another thing that is not your job again for the rest of the shift.

At exactly 3:10 a.m. you let out a tired sigh, stretching your arms above you and moving your body from side to side as gentle cracks sound from your backbone. After Deku pushes a villain inside a police car and looks at it drive away for a moment, his yawn that you hear through the earbuds passed on to you as you involuntarily copy the action.

“That was the last one. I’m going back,” you agree with him as you press the option on the system that notifies everyone on the shift that your hero is coming back to headquarters.

“Done.”

“Thanks, Y/N, great work today!”

“You did it all, buddy.”

“Oh, no! None of us heroes could do it without you. All of you, really.”

You frown, a bit surprised. I mean, Izuku is always polite and thanks you after every shift, but today feels different. Like he is purposely saying that, as if he knew someone important was listening to their connection.

“You are… welcome?” You actually don’t know what to say. He simply chuckles.

By orders from your area, you can't leave until Deku’s entered the company back again, so you use that time to finish gathering your things and closing the system.

“I'm back. Wait for me, Y/N. I'll take you home,” not longer than five minutes later Izuku says through the earbuds.

“Oh. You don't have–”

“Kacchan asked me to.”

His words shut you up. But he doesn't wait for your answer as he finally disconnects the communication.

And you're left there, frozen for a moment, assimilating his words. Bakugou asked Izuku to take you home. He asked his best friend to take care of you, even when he knew Izuku would do it or offer on his own. Izuku always rode you home when you had night shifts together. Bakugou surely knows that. Then, why even mention it to his friend? Why personally ask Izuku to help you? Because… Bakugou didn't enter the company only for his unfinished paperwork. He did it to talk to Izuku. Was this… Bakugou taking care of you because you were married? Or because he wanted to?

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xo100 · 23 hours ago

Note

Hi there!! Could I ask Lando with a singer or a dancer reader?? They are already dating, but haven’t made it officially yet to the public. Lando surprises the reader by attending to the readers tour and fans are going feral about him being there, because it’s a “duo” they didn’t knew they needed. After the show he comes backstage to the reader and they make the relationship public with the pictures of them being backstage or something. Just really sweet and fluffy. Thank you❤️

A surprise in the spotlight - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 781

*:･ﾟ A/N: hey loves! I just wanted to let you know that I have another blog called @norrisxwrites on this blog I will reblog your reblogs. I’ll reblog my posts and other posts! Go check it out if you want posting there soon! Enjoy the fic!

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The stadium buzzed with the excitement only a sold-out concert could bring. The energy was palpable, like a living, breathing thing, as fans spilled into their seats with glowing bracelets and homemade signs. This was your tour, the biggest one yet, and it had been months of grueling rehearsals, endless interviews, and nights spent missing the man who’d somehow slipped into your life and turned it upside down.

That man, Lando Norris, Formula 1’s rising star and everyone’s favorite cheeky Brit, was supposed to be halfway across the world, prepping for the next Grand Prix. At least, that’s what he’d told you over FaceTime just two days ago.

But Lando had never been great at following the rules—especially when it came to staying away from you for too long.

It wasn’t until the third song of the set that whispers started spreading through the crowd. Something was happening near the back, a ripple of excitement weaving its way forward. The screens overhead briefly panned across the audience, and there he was, seated among the fans in a hoodie and cap pulled low but not low enough to fool anyone.

The stadium erupted.

“Is that Lando Norris?” someone screamed.

“He’s at her concert?” another gasped.

The internet moved faster than the speed of sound. Within moments, Twitter was ablaze with shaky screenshots and wild speculations.

-Are they dating?!- -This is the crossover I didn’t know I needed!- -Lando and Y/N??? MY HEART.-

Onstage, you were mid-chorus, but the sudden roar from the crowd was hard to ignore. Your eyes scanned the sea of people, your heart stuttering when you spotted him. Lando gave a small wave, his smile tugging at the edges of his mouth like he couldn’t quite contain it.

You fought the urge to break character, biting back a grin as you returned your focus to the performance. But your cheeks were warm, and the butterflies in your stomach were undeniable.

The show ended with an encore, the crowd’s energy lingering in the air as fans slowly filed out. You darted backstage, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, only to stop short when you saw him leaning casually against the wall near your dressing room.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Lando said, his voice warm and teasing.

You couldn’t help it—you threw yourself into his arms, the scent of his cologne instantly grounding you. He caught you effortlessly, his laughter soft against your hair as he held you close.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your words muffled against his chest.

“Surprising you,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Missed you too much. Figured it was time I crashed one of your shows.”

Your heart swelled. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“Only for you.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your waist. “You were incredible out there. I mean, I knew you were good, but seeing you like this…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You’re amazing, Y/N.”

The sincerity in his voice left you momentarily speechless, your cheeks heating under his gaze. “You’re not too bad yourself, Mr. Norris. Though I think you’ve caused a bit of a stir.”

Lando smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way. “Oh, I noticed. Your fans are relentless. Think I saw my name trending on Twitter halfway through the third song.”

“Serves you right,” you teased, but the warmth in your voice gave you away.

You didn’t plan to go public with your relationship that night, but when your manager walked in, phone in hand, and said, “We’ve got paparazzi swarming the back exit,” you knew it was inevitable.

Lando squeezed your hand, his touch steadying. “If you’re ready, I am.”

“You mean it?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

He kissed your forehead, and in that moment, everything else faded away. The chaos, the cameras, the noise—it all felt distant, insignificant compared to him.

The two of you walked out together, hand in hand, the backstage photographer snapping candid shots that would be on every gossip site by morning. You didn’t care.

Later, in the car, Lando scrolled through the early posts. He turned his phone to you, showing a picture of the two of you backstage, mid-laugh, your fingers laced together.

“‘The duo we didn’t know we needed,’” he read aloud, chuckling. “Not bad, huh?”

You leaned against his shoulder, your smile soft. “Not bad at all.”

And as the city lights blurred past the windows, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was only the beginning.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

*:･ﾟtags; @spookbusters-jr

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sir3n-s · 1 day ago

Text

Since Eddie came to live with him, Wayne has seen him bring home many things.

Mainly bugs or hurt animals.

One time he brought home a skunk. Sometimes Wayne thinks he can still smell it.

But this? This is something else.

"Wayne I can explain" he says standing in the doorway with a jar.

A jar that has a pixie in it.

"That jar better have holes in it, Edward.'" He's praying that his nephew didn't hurt the pixie.

Pixies have been around for centuries and helping them will bring good luck. As in the pixie will most likely bring you gifts.

Hurting a pixie though?

He has heard some stories that would be labeled as horror if they were movies.

"Of course, it has holes in it!" Eddie says like it was ridiculous of him to ask, "I'm not stupid" Wayne thinks that is debatable but now is not the time for that.

"Yet you have a pixie in a jar" he sighs, wondering why this kid can't give him a break, "knowing what they are capable of."

"I know, I know!" Eddie says, looking down at the jar. "I just wanted to say hi, and then he attacked me! I didn't want to hurt him, but he wouldn't leave me alone!"

"So you thought putting it in a jar would make it like you," he says while getting up.

"Well no but I tried runng but he followed me"

He's going to need a beer after this.

"Give me the jar," he says standing in front of his nephew.

Eddie doesn't hesitate to hand it over.

Wayne walks out the door of the trailer and starts opening the jar, "I apologize for my nephew, he doesn't think before he acts. He's a good kid, please don't hurt him" he takes the top off and lets the pixie fly out.

It flies in front of Wayne’s face for a moment before smiling and nodding at him, then zooms off.

Wayne walks back into the trailer to grab a beer and start lecturing his nephew.

Over the next few weeks, Eddie sees the pixie, who he learns name is Steve, come by the trailer to give gifts to Wayne.

Eddie has tried to get close enough to apologize but Steve always files away the moment he sees Eddie.

But he also doesn't do anything to Eddie so he guesses that Steve likes Wayne enough to leave his nephew alone.

Which is good because pixies can be terrifying.

"Give him some fruit," Wayne suggests after hearing Eddie complain about Steve leaving once he saw Eddie pull up to the trailer. "He really likes peaches."

So Eddie cuts up a peach and puts it on a plate. He takes it outside to the bench close by and waits.

Steve does eventually show up but Eddie can tell he's still cautious of him because he doesn't immediately go for the peach like he would if Wayne was the one offering it.

Eddie smiles at him and pushes the plate towards him hoping to encourage him to eat it.

Steve must have decided to trust Eddie because he dives for the peach slices.

He watches Steve eat a really small amount of the the peach, but pixies are so small it was probably a lot to him.

Once it seems like Steve had his fill of the fruit Eddie sets a napkin down next to the plate.

Steve wipes his hands and face with it. Then he just sits there and stares at Eddie for a moment.

"Thank you" the pixie says. And honestly Eddie is surprised, he didn't know they could communicate with humans.

"You're welcome" he responds, tapping his finger on the table, "I am sorry about the jar thing, I really didn't mean to hurt you"

Steve reached for Eddie's hand and placed his tiny hand on top of his finger, stopping its movement.

"Its okay" Steve smiles at him.

#pixie steve immediately likes wayne #that is the reason why he doesnt do anything to eddie #eddie is so happy when he finally gets steve to trust him #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #steddie #fantasy #pixies #pixie steve harrington

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kingkat12 · 2 days ago

Text

enigma (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, sub!Roman, blindfold, handcuffs, riding, handjob, edging, banter, Roman likes tits tihi, name-calling (for a second lol), fluff sort-of?

summary: after Roman became the CEO of Godfrey Industries, he hasn't been able to let off any steam... so it seems he might need some help figuring out how to channel his frustrations

word count: 4,713

a/n: celebrating 600 followers w the return of sub!Roman!!<33 y'all seemed to like can i watch, so see this as a part 2? gif by @godfreysteel!!! THANK YOU, and hope you enjoy;)

Roman Godfrey was a man of many mysteries— many I didn’t want to uncover. Yet the enigma of how to get him to properly unload after work was one I spent many months figuring out.

After work, Roman would usually come home with a lot of pent-up anger he tried not to take out on me. He’d sit with a shake in his leg, he’d huff at the slightest inconveniences, and blow up without warning over small disagreements. He was no longer the man I had known him to be, now too frustrated with the position of CEO his mother had forcefully bestowed upon him to function properly. Still, I knew that the man I had fallen in love with was buried somewhere beneath the rubble of chaos going on in his life.

So I started out simple.

When Roman would come home, I’d make sure to hurry to the door and hang his jacket up for him. It was a small thing, nothing major, yet a kindness which eased him with the following kiss hello. Now that I had introduced a form of routine, now that he expected something pleasant the minute he got home, there was a new ease in his step.

Nonetheless, I knew the day would come when that wouldn’t be enough anymore. Roman was still fidgety and frustrated with his dealings with Dr. Pryce at work, so I realized I had to find a new way to have him release the pent-up energy in his body.

At first, it was easy. When it felt like a surprise, before Roman pieced together that I had an ulterior motive, it could be done with a simple run of my hands through his hair after dinner on the couch. He’d be hard in no time— I could see the way his cock swelled with interest beneath the restrictions of his suit, and the green of his eyes nearly swallowed me before he pounced.

I wondered why I hadn’t used sex as a solution earlier. Why I hadn’t let him take all this energy out on me in bed before. Roman wouldn’t even bother getting out of his suit sometimes, as he was too impatient to get any form of release— and impatient, he was.

His long, slender fingers would twist into the hair on the nape of my neck, holding me in place as he pushed deeper into me, feeling me clench around his cock in a mix of desperation and utter satisfaction. It was perfect, satisfactory for us both, and it was the best bandaid in the world until it one night got to his head. Giving Roman the power to take anything out on me was seemingly not the best way to go, especially after he had avoided doing just that for so long— now I knew the reason why; “Look at you, taking my cock like the pretty little whore you are… All for me, hm? Just— hah, for me?”

My eyes widened; he knew I didn’t like him calling me any names of sorts. Why had he even said that? I managed to grab a fistful of his hair, yanking him off me as he yelped. “Nope. We’re done tonight,” I huffed, getting up from the bed as Roman protested.

“Come on, I didn’t mean that!” He was a panting mess, cock twitching at the denial of hot, wet friction. “It just— fuck, it was a thing I said in the moment, you can’t fault me for that!”

This was the night that it hit me that I had been slaving around to accommodate him… almost to the likes of a whore. I turned to Roman after getting dressed, watching as he sat up in the bed with a frown. The more I looked at him, the more I saw the spoiled, arrogant man that was constantly on the front pages of gossip magazines for bad behaviour with staff and other associates. “You don’t get to talk to me like that,”

Roman sighed, moving closer to the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, mind still fogged up by his arousal. “Come back here, take that shit off… Let me make you feel good, okay?”

I folded my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes— “No. I’m tired of you not being able to regulate your emotions like a grown adult, and I most certainly will not stoop so low as to let you call me names!”

Roman groaned, raising his voice; “I didn’t mean it, for fuck’s sake!” I could see the usual anger blooming in his big, green eyes, and I hated the sight of it. “I don’t think you’re a whore, my mind just turned off, and it slipped! I wouldn’t fucking be with you if you were one, who do you think I am?!”

I was sure Roman didn’t realize he was digging his grave with every new word spilling past his kiss-swollen lips. “Who I think you are…? Who I think you are?” Finally, it was my time to rage; “I think you’re a spoiled, entitled, whiny man! And quite frankly, I’m tired of walking on eggshells around you!”

Roman jaw fell, his hands now clutching the duvets to keep himself calm. “… Go on,”

“Go on?!” I wasn’t sure why. “I don’t care to accommodate your bullshit anymore, okay? If anything, I should be putting you in your fucking place!”

This time, when Roman didn’t say anything, I could feel the switch in the atmosphere. It was as though the air got thicker, harder to inhale— I saw the way Roman’s pupils dilated, the way his ears perked up in intrigue.

Oh.

That night, I allowed Roman to sleep next to me after he pleaded with me to accept his apology. I told him that the next time he said anything like that, I’d bite his dick off.

… That seemed to shut him up.

But as for the enigma? I had cracked it. I had cracked it big time— finally, I knew exactly what he needed, and how to give it to him.

It wasn't hard to find a moment when Roman was seated in his home office, busy answering a couple of emails. A few kisses here and there, a dirty word in his ear, and he was ready to sit still for me; but not without putting up a fight, of course.

“I know what you think you’re doing,” Roman huffed, not fighting the handcuffs anymore. His compliance finally allowed me to secure his hands behind his back, wrists locked behind his office chair. “You think this is some sort of kink-thing that will work on me like magic, like reverse psychology. But I can tell you right now that this something I’m trying out for you and not for me. So don’t get any weird ideas about me, okay?”

Roman’s innate denial was almost comical. I straightened my back, leaning down to press a short kiss to his neck. “It’s not weird,” I cooed, circling him. “You should’ve just told me.”

“Told you what?”

“That you need someone else to take the control once in a while,” I sat down in Roman’s lap, untying his expensive silk tie as I innocently batted my lashes at him. “You just need a little time off, don’t ya?”

His jaw clenched, watching me with narrowed eyes. “Don’t push it,” he mumbled. “I’m doing this for you.”

“Oh,��Roman,” I treaded the tie between my fingers, biting back a laugh. “The game is over now, don’t you see? I figured you out!” Pressing a short kiss to his nose, feeling him scoff, I slowly covered his beautiful green eyes with the fabric. I immediately missed them, but I knew it was necessary for his immersion. He was too proud of a man to give in so easily. “Why don’t you just let me take care of you…” I tied the tie, securing the knot before leaning in to whisper into his ear; “… Properly?”

Roman remained silent, too shocked to speak, but his interest was unmistakable— I could feel him hardening beneath me, a tight jolt of his cock bumping into the underside of my thigh. Bingo.

I angled myself in his lap, slowly grinding my hips up against his bulge; there was a rough breath, almost a groan, as though he was still fighting the idea of completely letting go. “You don’t need to do this,” Roman said, voice unsteady. “You don’t have to.”

It was as though he didn’t trust me not to judge him. “And you don’t need to be so nervous,” I cooed, grinding my hips down against him once more. “Trust me.”

I could see his jaw clenching, but the shaky breath that followed unveiled everything. “I don’t even know what you want to do to me. Don’t get too excited, okay? Don’t do anything crazy,”

It was impossible not to roll my eyes. Roman didn’t see it, anyway. “I’m not doing anything to you, per se,” My fingers trailed down his shirt, unbuttoning the top button. “I just want you to relax and enjoy. Can you do that for me?”

I could see the goosebumps appearing along the exposed skin of his forearms, his shirt bunching up at his biceps. “Sure,” Roman mumbled, attempting not to sound too excited— yet the jump of his cock against my ass gave it all away.

“I’ve been thinking a long time about how to alleviate your stress…” I got to the end of Roman’s buttons, now trailing my hands up his bare, toned chest. “I thought I needed to let you take it out on me in bed, but I knew that was a misstep the second you got too greedy and called me a whore—“

“Come on!—“

“And that‘s fine,” I leaned down, pressing a kiss to his exposed collarbone. “When I let you run wild, your imagination follows. I should’ve known better than to give you more power… Especially now that I know you crave it taken away from you.”

Roman was starting to become fidgety, his hands fighting the restraints. “Nonsense,”

“Really?” I straightened up, lolling my head to the side as I watched the man of my life struggle to face his situation. This was the root of all his problems, wasn’t it? I sighed, pressing a short kiss to the soft pillows of his lips— I no longer heard the clanking of the metal handcuffs against the back of the chair. “You got this job sprung on you despite your wishes not to… Bet you wish it could’ve gone to someone else.”

Roman had finally quieted down. I longed to see the look in his eyes, but I didn’t need to in order to know I had hit a home run. “And I’m sorry about that,” I breathed, hooking my hands beneath the edge of my top to wry it off, tossing it somewhere on the floor. “I’m sorry you don’t feel like you can talk about it, but I’m here to make you feel a little better. You’re not the CEO of anything in here, you’re allowed to relax.”

I saw the way Roman’s shoulders slumped, the way his breathing got a little softer. My poor boy. I would’ve felt even more sorry for him if I didn’t feel the way his cock was twitching with excitement at the way I was talking to him.

I knew I sealed the deal when I sat up in his lap, letting one strap of my bra fall over my shoulder as I brought him closer— it didn’t even take a second before Roman’s lips sealed around my breast with a wanton moan.

Roman’s tongue circled my bud as I did my best not to let my legs give in to a tremble— I knew this usually drove him crazy. The enigma of men. I held onto the chair, one hand going up into his hair to tug at the tips of his dark locks. Roman let out a soft grunt against my skin, his hips bucking up as his hands instinctively fought the handcuffs. I knew he wanted to grab at my waist, squeeze my ass, knead at my other breast— I knew him too well. The restraints only seemed to make him more desperate.

I pulled away, realizing I was panting as I fixed my bra. Roman threw his head back a little, a small smirk present on his plush lips— “You really know how to get me going, don’t you?”

I shrugged, now trailing my hands down to his restricted cock. “You’re easy like that, Roman,”

He let out a shaky breath, hips keening against the warmth of my hands. “Am not,”

“Yes, you are,”

“Nope,”

“Keep fighting me and I’ll leave you like this,”

That seemed to shut him up. Roman straightened up in his chair, softly clearing his throat as it dawned on him that I was dead serious. “Would you really?”

My God— I didn’t think it was humanly possible for him to get harder right now, but the threat of me leaving him hot and bothered seemed to do it for him. I wondered whether his zipper would split open soon, as the constraint only got tighter. “If you don’t shut up soon, I will,”

“You wouldn’t,” Roman echoed, his voice growing weaker. “… Would you really?”

Seeing him get this excited only did the same to me— I needed to get him out of these pants before it was too late. This was Armani, for fuck’s sake. I placed two fingers against Roman’s mouth, knowing he’d get the memo— with a small huff, he wrapped his lips around my small digits, letting them rest against his warm tongue.

The sight of it sent shivers down my spine. “You talk too much,” I said, my free hand unbuckling his belt and discarding it somewhere next to my top. The second the zipper was rolled down, Roman let out a sigh of relief against my fingers, his head rolling back just a little.

“If you promise to stop snarking, I’ll take my fingers out. Hum if it’s a yes,”

As expected, Roman did— when my fingers were out, I leaned forward to brush my lips against his, feeling his shaky breath seep out of his lungs. “Kiss me, at least,” he pleaded. “I feel like I’m gonna fucking burst.”

I leaned forward, watching him part his lips on a soundless intake of breath as my gaze darted to his mouth. I cupped his cheek, my thumb brushing over the softness of his skin— it was surprising to see how he was responding to it. I hadn’t ever been given the opportunity to lead; had he maybe just been scared to be seen as vulnerable?

“I’ll kiss you in a second,” I breathed, my mind returning to Roman’s aching cock— I watched his breath hitch when I gently tapped the tip of it with my finger, and his head shot to the left as his breathing got heavier.

My heart was thumping hard in my chest at the sight, and I got the confidence to bring my palm to my mouth, slicking it with spit before I brought it down the length of his cock. Roman let out a breathy hah, pushing up into my fist.

Oh, this was almost sweet— I pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, slowly working my fingers around the shaft. “Is this okay?” I asked, pulling away when I sensed his wish to turn back to me.

Using his senses, Roman somehow managed to find the tip of my nose, nudging it gently with his. “Yeah,”

I was relieved to know he wasn’t seeing the deep blush creeping up my cheeks. The small drop of pre-cum that had built up on the tip of his cock spilled over, now running down the back of my hand, and it brought me back from my moment of shyness— I had gotten him this worked up. I never thought I’d be able to do that, especially not to Roman. So, with a newfound confidence, I leaned forward to grant him his wish of a kiss.

As he was still blindfolded, his muscles hitched with caution, yet his cock twitched in my hand at the softness of our reunion. Roman quietly moaned into the kiss, easing up further in my hold as I continued my slow strokes along his thick shaft.

However, what I didn’t expect, was for his usual instincts to kick in, and I was left with my breath caught in my chest as Roman placed eager kisses down my jaw. I had a feeling he didn’t think I would have control for longer than this— “Rome,” I cooed, tilting my head upwards to give him access as his kisses trailed down my neck. “Give it up.” It was impossible to deny that it felt good, and I was unsure how I was supposed to will myself to stop him. “You’re not in control, Roman.”

He hummed against my skin, the instinctual fight against the handcuffs echoing throughout the room. “But I want you,” he breathed. “I want to see you, want to touch you—“

Fucking hell. I should’ve known Roman would get greedy. So I decided I needed to go to more drastic measures; I unwinded my grip around his cock, getting up from his lap to a string of protests.

It felt as though all my nerves were on fire as I watched him buck up into nothing, panting at the lack of contact; “No,” he breathed, whimpering. “Come back, I’ll— I’ll sit still, okay?”

“Hmm…” I slowly tapped my foot against the floor, making my frustration audible. “That’s not enough.”

“Come on!” Roman was whinier than ever, throwing his head back as he struggled against his constraints. His mind was fighting the idea of letting go, yet his cock was twitching with immense interest. Silly man— he didn’t want to recognize this wish to surrender.

… This meant I had to force it.

I stepped towards him, watching as his breath hitched in anticipation. Now that he was blindfolded, his senses were heightened. “Tell me what you really want, Roman,”

He took a second, brows drawing together. “You know what I want,”

“No, not that,” I placed myself behind him and pressed a kiss to his ear, hearing him whimper as I reached down to wrap my fingers around his cock. “What do you want?” I whispered into his ear, listening to his quiet moans.

“I want— shit, no, I can’t!—“

“Yes, you can,” I sped up my strokes, and Roman’s lips parted in a mix of confusion and pleasure as his head rested against my shoulder. “Tell me.”

I knew he was close to breaking, I knew I had him exactly where I wanted him; Roman turned to me, almost for comfort, as he whimpered against the crook of my neck. “I just— want a break… from being in charge,” he breathed. “I’m so tired of the fucking— responsibilities—”

My heart swelled as I pressed a kiss to his forehead. This only proved that I had been entirely correct in my deductions. “I know,” I cooed, slowing my strokes to give him time to breathe. “It’s okay to be tired, it’s okay… Just let me take care of you for once, hm? It’s not weak to want… relief.”

“Relief,” Roman echoed, huffing against my skin. “You planning on giving me that tonight?”

I had to bite down on my lip not to laugh, resorting to a scoff. “If you keep snarking? No,”

The denial was surprisingly effective— Roman’s cock twitched in my hand, followed by a sharp, breathy moan, which was the sign he was close. “Something tells me you secretly like being told no,” I teased. “You probably haven’t heard that word much, have you?”

“Shit, maybe— yeah, you’re right,”

“Of course I am,” I ran my free hand through his hair, feeling him panting against the crook of my neck. “Wanna cum?”

“Yeah... Yeah—“

“Well, too bad," I removed my hand; "Not yet,”

Roman’s head rolled forward as he let out a loud groan, hips bucking up into nothing as I moved away from him once more. “Fuck you!” he yelled, fighting his restraints. “Fuck— God!”

I hadn’t been this entertained since I saw the last episode of Sex and The City for the first time. “I’m gonna be nice and act like you didn’t just cuss me out,” With a smirk I was happy he didn’t see, I sat back down in Roman’s lap as I tapped my fingers against the tip of his cock, watching his breath hitch as his thighs clenched. The droplet of pre-cum connected to my finger like a string of saliva, and I gazed in awe as I toyed with it— he wouldn't let me do this if he wasn't beyond horny, so I seized the moment to explore. “I think you’ve had enough now… don’t you think?”

Roman nodded, his plush lips parting as he tried to steady his breath. “Yeah,”

I never thought I’d like being in control like this. Yet I reveled in it as I wrapped my hand around his slick length again and watched his breath catch in his throat. Roman was so raw, so vulnerable, fucking finally— “What do you want, then?”

“Fuck me,” he breathed, his head tilting back as he fought a string of moans. “Fuck me, just— fuck me.”

“Wait… me fucking you?” I had to rub it in, I couldn’t help myself. Thankfully, Roman didn’t see the evil grin that spread across my lips. He had taunted me like this many times before, anyway. “That’s unheard of in the Godfrey vocabulary.”

Roman would’ve gnarled back more insults if he wasn’t so damn horny— “Don’t make me say please,”

“Well… That was never the plan,” I shifted, pulling my underwear to the side as I raised my hips, letting the tip of his cock slowly brush against my sex— I hadn’t expected to be this wet, actually. Neither did I expect the broken moan that escaped Roman, whose hands were fighting the handcuffs in a flash of instinct. “I know that making you say please would make you want to kill me after we're done here, so I’m not gonna do that… I’m just trying to take care of you, remember?”

It was only when I sunk down on Roman’s thick length, draping my arms around his neck, that I heard a weak little yeah from him. I knew he was long, long gone now. Doing my best not to shudder, I pressed a loving kiss to his cheek; “Are you finally gonna— hah, let me do that?”

Roman nodded, turning, his lips now placed parted against my jaw; “Yeah,”

The few times I had been on top didn't compare to this time at all. There was something so thrilling about slowly sliding up and down the length of Roman's cock, feeling his choppy heaves of air against my skin as he fought the primal thrust, pound, fuck. It was exhilarating to hear his need for me when I ran my fingers through his hair, the small whimpers falling off the tip of his tongue.

Blindfolded, with no possibility to touch, feel, hold me— I knew this was driving Roman absolutely nuts. Still, he was yielding, surrendering to his deepest, darkest wish to finally, fucking finally, have no control in the world. At long last, he had no other task than to sit still, enjoy, and feel good. With a sigh of relief, Roman's lips found mine with the utmost gentle touch that made me clench around his cock, which coaxed out the most delirious moan from him.

His mind was so, so gone, his senses on absolute fire when I pulled my hips up along his cock, keeping just the tip in me. Roman groaned as his hips jerked forward, giving up the fight against his instincts. "Shit—You tease!"

"Really, now?" It was no longer possible to keep my voice steady, too drowned in the pleasure. "You do this to me all the fucking time, Rome. Call it karma."

Roman whimpered— "Sorry,"

That was almost too sweet to ignore. I fought my wish to coo at him, to cup his face and pepper it with kisses, and instead opted to stroke my fingers through his hair and shortly kiss his lips. "No need," I whispered, pulling away to watch his breath hitch when I slid back down his length, the thickness of his cock filling me up once more.

"Fuck— Fuck!" Roman was so close, I could feel it.

Who would've thought this would be the thing to break the great Roman Godfrey?

His jaw was tight, and the sound that escaped his chest was somewhere between a moan and a sob— I would've been worried, had he not been smiling. Roman's head tilted back, his body now relaxing, giving in to the pleasure as I enveloped him to the hilt with a small breath. I leaned forward, putting my hands on his chest for support; I fucking loved this. Because finally, I understood him better— Roman's hunger for power was made clearer to me than ever before, and the all-taking high of being able to do something like this to another person corrupted my mind as well.

Like this, I could drag him into me, squeeze him tight around my walls when I slowed my pace, and simplest of all— I could choose when to kiss him. And Roman wouldn't dare to deny me now, with how he was desperately chasing his high.

"Thank you," was all he managed to say, smiling against my lips in complete and utter ecstasy. Something told me he was grateful I had staged a coup of dominance. "I needed— needed this, thank you, thank you, I— shit, shit!" Roman buried his face in the crook of my neck, the soft fabric of the tie around his eyes pressing against my skin as he let out a loud cry, spilling into me with a small shudder.

Roman's cum was warm as always, and it felt like a consolation prize for all the bullshit I had taken from him these past weeks; it slowly seeped out of me as he tried to catch his breath.

I brought my fingers to the nape of his neck, gently twisting his hair in my fist, knowing he liked a little sharp twinge of something to bring him back from a climax that strong. "You did good," I cooed, stilling my hips as I softly kissed the shell of his ear. "Good job, Rome."

And with that, Roman sunk into the chair, no longer fighting his restraints or the blindfold— he let his shoulders slump as he let out a sigh of true relief, a feeling he had been chasing since the day he got his new job as the CEO of Godfrey Industries. "If you ever speak a word of this... to anyone," he breathed, struggling to talk through the quiet heaves of air. "I'll have your head on a spike."

I rolled my eyes; "... Lovely," Who the fuck would I ever tell this to? Silly, silly man.

I couldn't help but laugh as I brought my hands forth, untying the tie around Roman's eyes. It slowly fell over his nose, and the hard glare I had expected from his green eyes wasn't there— instead, there was a look of pure and utter admiration. I had a feeling his heart was swelling at the thought of finally having met someone who dared to go against him like this. "But if you don't tell anyone..." Roman practically blushed; a sight I hadn't seen before. "We could... do this again sometime?"

I leaned forward to kiss the tip of his nose, holding back a grin of victory. "So you liked it?"

"... Don't push it,"

"Say it, or I'll tell the whole world,"

"Yeah, right!"

"... I bet the newspapers are dying to know the fact that Mr. Roman Godfrey likes to be bound and fucked—"

A loud groan followed from Roman; "Fine!"

"Fine, what?" This was too much fun.

"Fine, I liked it! A lot!"

I grinned, slowly inching off his softening length. "There you go," I cooed, watching the blush on Roman's cheeks deepen.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he grumbled, trying not to let his breath hitch. "Now, get me out of these fucking handcuffs so I can get you off too."

Finally, Roman wasn't an enigma any longer, having made himself and his intentions clearer than the bright rays of the moon... and who was I to say no to such an offer?

"As you wish,"

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #hemlock grove #bill skarsgård #fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #bill skarsgard #oneshot #smut #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard smut #hemlock grove fanfiction #DRUNK ANON ARE U SEEING THIS #THIS WAS SO MUCH FUUUUN OMG #I LOVE ROMAN WHEN HE'S WHINY SORRY #forgive me my loves

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rafeskai · 6 hours ago

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Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Epilogue

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: Was gonna make chapter 4 like 5k words but I decided to put it into two separate chapters.

Masterlist: Here

It had been a year since the custody battle, since Rafe and you had found yourselves standing side by side, figuring out this whole "family" thing. A year since both of you issued a restraining order against Ward, and the judge granted it. A year since you stopped pretending you didn’t feel something for him, and he stopped acting like he was too good for anyone, especially you. Now, the chaos of life had settled into a strange, beautiful rhythm. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but it was yours.

And, somehow, against all odds, the three of you had made it work.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, where you stood trying to assemble breakfast. You had learned, over time, that cooking for Willa was an Olympic sport. Every time you managed to whip together a simple meal, she somehow managed to flip the situation on its head—literally.

"Willa, no!" you heard Rafe call out from the living room. You looked up just in time to see him frantically trying to stop her from scaling the couch like some sort of tiny, diaper-clad Spider-Man. “You can’t climb up there!”

But Willa was undeterred. She gave a small shriek of triumph, her baby legs scrabbling up the cushions like she was born to conquer furniture. You had to admit, you were impressed.

"I swear she’s part monkey," you muttered under your breath, flipping pancakes with a practiced hand.

Rafe stumbled into the kitchen, his hair sticking out at odd angles, the look of a man who had given up on ever having a decent morning.

“You say that like it’s a surprise,” he deadpanned, rubbing his face. “We’ve had this conversation a hundred times. No more couch climbing. She’s already an inch away from that giant coffee table, which, let me remind you, is made of solid oak. And do you know what happens when Willa decides gravity is optional?”

You snorted. “We end up on the floor with her holding a half-empty juice box like she’s just conquered the world, while you scramble to pick up the pieces of your dignity.”

He shot you a pointed look. “Exactly.”

You set the pancakes aside and wandered over to rescue Willa, who was now attempting to climb up the back of the couch like a small, determined mountain goat. Scooping her up with one hand, you held her up in front of you. “You know, kid, you’re lucky you’re so cute, because if I had to stop doing my work every time you decided to do a backflip off a chair, I’d be in therapy by now.”

Willa gurgled, her eyes wide and innocent, as though she didn’t have a single rebellious bone in her tiny body.

Rafe leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. “I’m just saying, if she’d stop doing that, maybe I could get ten minutes of peace. But no. We live in a house of chaos.”

You smirked, watching as Willa grabbed his shirt and yanked. “If she’s chaos, you’re the tornado that hits right after,” you teased, making Rafe roll his eyes dramatically. “Just admit it—you love it.”

He groaned but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah, I love the chaos. But you have to admit it’s a lot of work. I mean, who’s going to put together her tiny little rocking horse without accidentally breaking something?”

“Not me,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure I broke that rocking horse three times already.”

At that, Rafe laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, I’ll take that as my cue to fix it. You keep trying to make breakfast, and I’ll figure out what’s going on with the toy horse that’s apparently haunted.”

Willa babbled in your arms, and you kissed the top of her head. “I’m not saying this to be dramatic, but I’m pretty sure she is a secret agent in training. I’ve seen her figure out how to break into places she’s not supposed to be like she’s in a spy movie.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “Spy movie? She’s more like a tiny burglar who knows how to manipulate you with her big eyes and unstoppable giggle.”

You chuckled, nodding. “Fair. But I still think she could make a killing in espionage. Maybe we should start saving for her college fund in case she ends up needing a fake passport.”

Rafe grinned, his mood visibly lightened by your banter. “I’m pretty sure we’re going to need therapy more than we need a college fund. But I’ll get started on that fake passport idea, just in case.”

You grinned back at him, feeling that familiar warmth settle in your chest. There was a time—just a year ago—when you had no idea what your future would look like. Now, here you were, a family, even if it didn’t look like any family you had ever imagined.

“Well,” you said, turning back to the pancakes, “we better get our act together before she eats all the syrup by herself.”

Rafe snorted and shot you a grin. “You think she’s not going to try that already?”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Later that day, after Willa’s nap (which, let’s be honest, was more of a battle than an actual nap), you and Rafe found yourselves in the backyard, taking a breather after the chaotic lunch you’d just survived. Willa was happily playing in her little sandbox, tossing sand like it was confetti at a New Year’s party, while you and Rafe collapsed onto the porch swing, exhausted but content.

"How the hell did we get here?" you asked, your voice quiet, more to yourself than to him.

Rafe leaned back with a sigh, staring up at the sky. "I’m pretty sure we got here because you’re too stubborn to admit you love me," he said with a grin.

You nudged him with your elbow. "Excuse me, but it’s not just me that’s stubborn. Have you seen the way you try to resist her puppy-dog eyes? You can’t even handle Willa when she does her sad little face, and you know it."

He groaned. “It’s my kryptonite. I’m weak. I’ll admit it.”

“Good. Because that means you’re finally accepting that she’s the boss around here. We’re just along for the ride.”

Rafe chuckled, nudging you back. “If that’s true, then I’m okay with it. Besides, she has the best team behind her, right?”

You smiled softly, watching Willa scoop up a handful of sand and drop it like a tiny little sandstorm. “Right. And we’re the best team for her.”

There was a pause, a quiet moment where both of you watched Willa. The future was still uncertain—life always was—but for the first time in a long time, it didn’t seem so scary.

“Well,” Rafe said, standing up and stretching, “I guess we better go make sure our future crime boss doesn’t eat the sand. You know, for her health.”

You snorted, laughing as you stood too. “You mean for the safety of our sanity?”

“That too,” Rafe said, laughing as he grabbed your hand and pulled you into a warm hug.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. And for once, that was enough.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

And so, life continued. Chaotic. Messy. Full of love. Your newfound family was far from conventional, but it was undeniably theirs—and somehow, that made it all the more beautiful.

Plus, Willa? She’d definitely grow up to be a world-class agent of chaos, and Rafe and you would have to learn to live with that.

But at least you’d be together.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #outer banks x reader #obx #obx x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron request #rafe cameron season 4 #drew starkey fanfiction #life as we know it

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caplanbuckybarnes · 2 days ago

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Change Your Mind (Bucky Barnes)

Summary: After an intense fight between you and Bucky, you vow to get your revenge on him. He thinks your kidding around until he wakes up with an arm made of metal. Will he forever have the metallic limb? Or will you both resolve your issues and cause his arm to become human like once more?

Warnings: readers a witch of sorts, this would take place in an AU where bucky *doesnt* have a metal attachment

WC: 600

Read on ao3!

Bucky didn’t usually slam doors. But tonight, the door to your shared apartment rattled on its hinges as he stormed out of the room, leaving you standing in the middle of the kitchen, seething.

He’d crossed a line. You weren’t even sure how the fight had started—something small that spiraled out of control, words sharpening like blades until you both drew blood. But what stung the most was how dismissive he’d been.

“Do whatever you want,” he’d snapped. “It’s not like I care.”

Those words echoed in your mind long after he’d disappeared into the other room. Your hands trembled, but not from sadness—oh no. This was anger, white-hot and unrelenting. Fine. If he thought you were bluffing when you said you’d get your revenge, he was in for a surprise.

Bucky had no idea what you were capable of.

When Bucky woke the next morning, the sunlight streaming through the window felt... off. Something about his arm felt heavier than usual, the weight pulling awkwardly at his shoulder. Groaning, he sat up, running his hand through his hair—except it wasn’t his hand.

“Holy—” Bucky stared down at his left arm. The sleek vibranium he was used to was gone, replaced by something disturbingly familiar: the exact same metallic construction as his right arm.

“What the hell?” His voice was hoarse as he flexed his fingers, the joints moving with unsettling ease. It felt real—too real.

He scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over himself as he stumbled into the living room. You were there, sitting cross-legged on the couch with a cup of coffee in hand, your expression as nonchalant as ever.

“Morning,” you said sweetly, taking a sip.

“What did you do?” Bucky demanded, holding up his new metallic arm.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Oh, that? Just a little reminder to be nicer during fights. Thought you could use a taste of your own medicine.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped. “A taste of my own medicine? Are you kidding me? This is permanent!”

“Only if you keep being an ass,” you shot back, setting your coffee down.

He stared at you, a mix of disbelief and frustration written all over his face. “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious,” you replied, crossing your arms. “Maybe next time you won’t storm out in the middle of a fight. Or, I don’t know, tell me you don’t care?”

Bucky flinched, guilt flickering in his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Well, it sure felt like you did.”

For a moment, silence stretched between you, broken only by the faint hum of the fridge. Bucky sighed, running his flesh hand over his face. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was mad, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

You raised a brow. “Go on.”

He exhaled, his shoulders sagging. “I care about you. More than I should’ve let on last night. I was out of line, and... I deserved this.” He gestured at his arm, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “Even if it’s kind of overkill.”

You huffed, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Apology accepted. And maybe it was a little overkill.”

“Only a little?” he teased, stepping closer.

You reached out, brushing your fingers against the metal, and with a whispered incantation, the metallic surface shimmered, melting away to reveal his human arm underneath. He flexed his fingers, marveling at the change.

“You’re not just scary,” he murmured, meeting your gaze. “You’re terrifying.”

“Good,” you said, smirking. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before pissing me off.”

Bucky chuckled, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. “Lesson learned.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky james barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader

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ruinedsoulsrp · 56 minutes ago

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A light chuckle left his lips as she commented about the ship being smart. He had the thought that maybe the ship was the exact opposite. Maybe it was stupid and naive for wanting to sail back into the same waters, but he didn't dare voice as much, not wanting to ruin the decent moment they had been able to create. Instead, Pat nodded in agreement at her sentiment.

His lips quirked upward again when she mentioned how she'd never been good at small talk. Pat could still remember one of the first times before she'd actually agreed to go out with him, them skipping class, sitting in his car and she'd turned to him with such confidence and questioned "What are you about Pat O'Morhan?" It had been a slice straight through small talk and he'd loved that about her, even then.

He watched as she took a second drink from her glass, and he followed suit, finishing his and pushing it away slightly, to give his hands something to focus on, though he was grateful when she spoke again, and he couldn't stop the slight chuckle that fell from his lips at the clear surprise in her tone. "Yeah, well, I wasn't gonna ask." he admitted with a sheepish grin. Sure, he'd been an outright criminal, hell, still was, put in very dangerous situations over and over again, but when it came to feelings, and vulnerability, Laurel was the brave one of the two of them.

"It does, doesn't it. Probably because nothing and everything has changed." he answered, because that's exactly how it felt to him all at the same time. the joy in the one questioned word was infectious and a smile spread over his features instantly. Though, he didn't have the opportunity to answer as she was up and closing any distance between them, her hands finding his cheeks and her lips meeting his. Pat pushed his chair back slightly, his hands finding her cheeks as he returned her kiss.

Had she not pulled away, he would've happily pulled her right onto his lap, though even as she started speaking, she didn't move away from him, and his smile grew as the speed of her words increased. "You're good." He nodded as she spoke, and after she trailed off, he took her hand in his and did pull her into a sitting position on his lap, his free arm moving to wrap around her waist, as his other hand released hers in favor of moving to cup her cheek. "We can take it slow if you'd like." he agreed, knowing it probably wasn't the smartest idea to jump right back into whatever they'd had, especially when he was holding what might be considered more secrets now than he had been then. Yet, the pull and attraction and love he felt for Laurel meant he was aching to do exactly that.

A light chuckle left the man as he tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. "I know I've been out of touch a while, but I think the kids still call it dating." he teased, his smirk returning as he looked up at her. "I uh, I'd be okay with calling it that if you wanted." he offered. That didn't exactly mean they were boyfriend and girlfriend, right? Still sans titles, but at least it was something to ensure they both knew that the other was right there and invested, and god damn it if he wasn't whole heartedly invested.

Seeing his grin amused her immensely. Laurel just felt relief all around, especially when each moment they had spent together felt fleeting, feeling like she could lose it from one moment to the next. Still, even if it turned out to be short-lived, she was willing to enjoy it to the fullest. Each smile, laughter, the way his eyes seemed to pierced her soul - greedily, she craved it all.

She caught that glimpse of surprise in his features, and for a second, she feared she had been too honest. But, the satisfaction that followed was much more familiar to her and Laurel couldn't help the smile full of relief that adorned her lips. "Back at the dock, what a smart ship," she mused out loud, wondering if she could take that to mean that he also had not moved on. Even after all this time. It was a second of mirrored satisfaction, followed by that immense guilt that wouldn't leave her alone. All these years, after ruining his life, and he still hadn't moved on? She couldn't help the pang of guilt that struck her. "I would be pleasantly surprised to find our ship back somewhere on that dock."

Even with the semi-hopeful conversation happening, her situation wasn't lost on her. He may have turned a new leaf and his life may look very different than it had all those years ago, but Laurel knew he was still close to his family, thinking back to his cousin stopping by his place and that dinner he went to with his dad. And on her side? Well, her mom still held some influence in her life - something she'd been unable to kick. Laurel's need for her mother's approval still dictated her life to this day. "Well, I was never really good with small talk," she teased, following his lead and taking another drink from her glass. Though, it was much larger than just a sip. Liquid courage? Maybe. Setting the glass back down on the table, Laurel willed herself to look back up at him, meeting those blue eyes she loved so much. Looking at him once more, she reiterated to herself that, yes she was willing to try again. Go all in for him. If her gaze was not communicating that, then one more sip of her drink, and Laurel was ready to say it out loud. Unable to continue dancing around what she wanted.

"You're glad?" she breathed out in surprise. Her realistic tendencies held her down, though a sliver of hope threatened to take over. "New territory is right, yet it feels very familiar. I just can't pinpoint why." Laurel hung to every word, his smile mesmerizing her like it had so many years ago. It felt like a turning point for them - an adult conversation between two people who hadn't seen each other since their teenage years. It was definitely something. Inevitably, a smile broke out on her lips. Pure joy in her features, and that hope from earlier burst through her chest. "Really?" she said breathlessly, unable to contain herself as she stood up from her chair and closed the distance between them, cupping his face in her hands and pulling him in for a kiss.

A laugh pulled from her lips, shaking her head. "Okay sorry, I got carried away. Yes, me too. Well, I had already said that. But, honestly...no pressure. I'm not expecting us to just immediately go back to what we had. More so, I just wanted you to know that I'm still here and I still...feel things for you. So yes, expecting things from each other, I can work with that. We can just take it slow, right?" She felt like she was reaching rambling territory, her nerves were in full display and leaning on being chill and nonchalant to not completely freak him out. "Don't worry, I won't request any girlfriend titles or anything of the sort."

#pat convo #pat ft laurel #i'm dead i love it #queue me for dinner

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triforce-of-mischief · 3 days ago

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When You're Ready

Summary: A portal drops the Chain in the middle of a quarantine zone, where they are required to receive vaccinations in order to proceed. Warriors doesn't want Legend to go ahead until he's mentally prepared.

Warnings: trypanophobic character, needles

Words: 1040

AO3

Please reblog to show your support! Likes do nothing.

Legend didn’t take the news well.

When they reached the edge of what turned out to be a quarantine, the guards posted there informed them that they would not be allowed to pass until they were vaccinated against the illness that the portal had already exposed them to. Warriors flinched at Legend’s outburst, at the harsh threats shouted at the bewildered strangers. Before he could step forward, Time was there, a firm hand clasped on the teen’s shoulder.

“Legend,” Time said quietly. “Leave them be. It’s not their fault.”

Legend froze instantly, shrugging himself free and nervously backing away from the stares of the younger heroes who didn’t really understand. Warriors intercepted him, wrapping his scarf around him like a shield.

“We need time to consider it,” Warriors said. “Is there somewhere we can sit?”

They were led to a small room, sparsely decorated with a few chairs and couches. The rest of the chain were filed, one by one, through a door in the far wall. Warriors spoke privately with Time and Sky, then joined Legend on a couch where he was hugging Four. The elder heroes left, then Four with Twilight, and Warriors and Legend were alone.

Legend stared unseeing at the floor, and Warriors didn’t have to touch him to know that he was shaking. Legend reached for his hand, and Warriors took it.

“Do we have to go now?” Legend asked, his voice painfully small.

Warriors squeezed his hand. “Not if you’re not ready.”

Legend shook his head, letting his hair shroud his eyes.

“If it helps,” Warriors said, “Sky offered to learn how. If it would be easier, to have someone you know and trust…”

Like that day in the med tent, Warriors himself an island in a sea of strangers.

Legend thought for a few minutes, and Warriors patiently let him. “Y… yeah. I don’t- if Sky can-”

“He can,” Warriors gently confirmed.

“Does… does that mean we have to go now?”

“Not until you’re ready.”

They sat for a while longer, and Warriors tried to talk him through some of the breathing exercises they had practiced during calmer moments. Legend grew fidgety, but Warriors thought that was better than shock.

“W-what if we wait here too long? Won’t you get hungry?” Legend asked once, and Warriors was prepared.

“If I do, Time can sit with you instead. You can take as long as you need to, bud.”

Soon after that, Sky opened the door. Legend nearly jumped out of his skin, pressing against Warriors’ side, and Sky gave him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. I just wanted to see if you think you’ll be ready soon…?”

Warriors expected Legend to shake his head vehemently, and prepared for another long wait. He was surprised, almost unpleasantly so, when Legend glanced at him before speaking.

“Y-yeah. I’m… ready.”

He didn’t sound ready in the slighest, but Warriors knew that the freedom of consent went both ways. He stood and waited for Legend to follow, pretending to ignore how the teen immediately leaned his full body weight against him.

“Come on then,” Sky said with a kind smile, and Warriors could hear a whine building in Legend’s throat as they walked to the next room.

He squeezed Legend’s hand, a silent question.

Legend squeezed back and didn’t stop.

Much like the med tent, the room was rudimentary and simple. Sky showed them to a low cot, probably for ill patients, that could easily fit Legend and Warriors beside each other. Legend knew what to do; he didn’t look at the medical tools and he hid his face against Warriors’ shoulder as soon as they sat down. His hands hesitantly reached out as his voice was muffled in the captain’s scarf.

“Wars, can you-”

“Yeah, bud,” Warriors breathed, and pulled him into a loose hug. Not tight enough that Legend felt restrained, but close enough that he could find comfort in his warmth. Warriors breathed, slow and steady, and felt Legend mimic him as Sky silently brought the tools closer.

Legend whined as Sky pushed his sleeve up, and Warriors hummed reassuringly. “He’s just going to clean your arm, Lege, you’re okay.”

Legend’s nails dug into Warriors’ own arm, but he didn’t ask Sky to stop.

“Keep breathing with me,” Warriors said as Sky picked up the syringe. “You’re doing so well. Deep breath in, deep breath out…”

Legend still didn’t react, right up until the needle pierced his arm. His measured exhale was interrupted by a sharp, high scream, and pleas that came too fast for Warriors to respond. “Wars- Wars, WARS!”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re all done,” Warriors said, because he already was. Sky had been fast, and he hid the syringe and bandaged Legend’s arm as Warriors continued his reassurances. “You did it, Lege, I’m so proud of you for being brave.”

Legend only sobbed harder, pressing into Warriors like he hoped he could disappear. Warriors rubbed Legend’s back, repeating his soothing words, and looked up when Sky walked to the other side of the room. The knight retrieved a glass of water and brought it over, waiting patiently for a calm in Legend’s crying.

“Here, Legend,” Sky said when the teen pulled away to gasp for breath. “Can you drink this for me?”

Legend let Sky press the glass into his hands, and Warriors held it steady as he drank. Legend’s tears slowed, and he swallowed hard as he lowered the glass from his mouth. He hiccuped, swallowing a few more times before he could speak.

“Sssorry… I- I wanted to be brave but I wasn’t…” Legend whimpered, and Warriors felt his heart break for the kid he was trying so hard to help.

“You were brave, Legend. You were so brave,” Warriors said, letting Legend collapse against him once more. “You found courage because of your fear, not despite of it. You know that better than any of us.”

“That’s right,” Sky agreed. “None of us expected this, but you still had the strength to get through it. We don’t think less of you for needing a little more time.”

Legend sniffled, his voice small against Warriors’ chest. “Do we have to go to the others now?”

“Not yet,” Warriors promised. “Not until you’re ready.”

#linked universe #lu #lu legend #lu warriors #lu sky #overcome #fable writes #happy birthday legend! you get... trauma angst... oops #i have fluff planned for him too i swear

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mrsportgas · 3 days ago

Text

The Neightbor. Chapter 8

Summary: The story takes place in the real world. Shanks, your unbearable neighbor, makes you a proposition that you're unsure whether to reject. It could be the start of a friendship, or maybe something more?

SHANKS X YOU

WARNING: Except for the first chapter, the rest will contain scenes of sex and violence, making this fanfic strictly +18.

TAG LIST: @buggsclownie @commanderfreethatdust @nocturnalrorobin @candy1277 @bluetokie @cyberkittenduck

@heartsytune @riftmage27

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

I bit my lip, trying to keep my composure, and looked at him with a touch of defiance in my eyes. "You think it’s going to be that easy, Shanks?" I whispered, my voice steadier than I expected. "I won’t give in that easily. If you really want this to mean something, you’ll have to prove to me that your words are more than just sweet nothings."

His smile widened, but this time there was a different glint in his eyes, something more genuine. "Is that what you think of me?" His tone was playful, yet serious at the same time. "I promise, I’ll show you that what I feel for you is so much more than just a fleeting moment."

We stayed silent for a moment. The tension between us was palpable, but it had morphed into something deeper. Shanks wasn’t just the flirty, charming man I’d always known; beneath that façade, I could see a sincerity I hadn’t noticed before.

He leaned back slightly, putting some distance between us but without breaking the connection. "I don’t want to pressure you, Y/N. But I’d love it if you stayed tonight. We could watch a movie, relax together, and just… enjoy each other’s company. No pressure, just whatever you want."

I looked at him, surprised by his softer proposal. I had expected him to keep up his seductive tone, but instead, he was offering something simple, something real. My heart softened a bit, and despite the whirlwind of emotions in my chest, I couldn’t help but smile.

"Just cuddles?" I asked, feigning skepticism but unable to hide the amusement in my voice.

He laughed, a warm sound that melted a little more of my resolve. "Just cuddles… and maybe a good movie," he replied, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"Alright," I agreed, letting my heart make the decision for me. I got up from the couch, feeling the weight of Shanks’ gaze as he followed me. We headed to his room, and though my mind was buzzing with nerves, his steady presence calmed me. Gently, he guided me with a hand on the small of my back, keeping that connection without saying a word.

Once in his room, he turned on a soft light, creating a cozy atmosphere. I sat on the edge of his bed while he opened a drawer and pulled out a t-shirt.

"You can wear this if you’d like," he said, holding it out with a smile that was almost shy.

I looked at him for a second before taking it. "Thanks," I replied, accepting the shirt and feeling a strange warmth as our fingers brushed briefly. I turned away to change while he busied himself adjusting the blankets and pillows to make the bed more comfortable.

The shirt smelled like him, a mix of something warm and woodsy, and I shivered at the thought.

Once I was ready, I turned to him, now wearing his oversized shirt that was perfect for the occasion. Shanks looked me up and down, his eyes glinting with sincere admiration. "It looks better on you than it ever did on me," he said with a soft smile.

I laughed lightly, shaking my head. "You always have something to say, don’t you?"

"Always," he replied, winking before slipping into bed and lifting the corner of the blankets to invite me in.

I settled in next to him, and he made sure I was snugly covered. Despite our closeness, the feeling of safety was undeniable. Shanks started the movie, and for the first few minutes, we sat in silence, watching the images flicker across the screen. But soon, I noticed him typing something quickly on his phone.

A flood of questions filled my mind, but I knew better than to jump to conclusions.

After a few moments, he leaned closer to my ear. "So, you’ve made plans with my friends tomorrow and didn’t think to invite me, huh?"

I turned to him quickly, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"There’s a barbecue at Marco’s place, and apparently, you and your friends are going to be there," he said with a wide grin.

The barbecue. After everything that had happened recently, it had completely slipped my mind.

"Oh, right… I remember now. Well, you’ll be lucky if I even say hi to you," I teased.

Shanks burst into laughter, the sound echoing warmly in the room. His laughter was so contagious that I had to bite my lip to keep from joining in. "So, now you’re playing hard to get?" he asked, a mischievous spark in his eyes.

I raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him silently.

He leaned in closer, his eyes locked on mine, the playful smile still tugging at his lips. "I know you won’t be able to resist when you see me there… waiting for you. And besides," his voice dropped to a low murmur as he moved even closer to my ear, "I know you want to see me."

A shiver ran down my spine, impossible to ignore, and I had to fight to maintain my composure. Shanks loved to tease, to tempt, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

"And what if I don’t go?" I said, playing with the edge of the blanket. "I might decide not to show up, leaving you there all alone… waiting in vain."

Shanks’ hand slid to my waist, slow but deliberate, pulling me closer to him. "Then I won’t go either," he whispered, his warm breath brushing against my skin. "If you’re not there, it’s no fun."

I looked at him, narrowing my eyes slightly, searching for any hint of a joke in his expression. But no, he was entirely serious. His intensity, mixed with that natural charm, made it hard to look away.

"So, you’re only going if I go?" I asked, trying to keep the teasing tone but knowing deep down that his answer mattered more than I wanted to admit.

Shanks studied me for a moment, his fingers playing with a strand of my hair before he spoke. "Exactly. If you’re not going, then the barbecue doesn’t interest me. I’d rather stay here… and do this all day." He leaned closer, his lips barely grazing mine, taunting me.

I bit my lip, trying to hide the smile threatening to break free. Shanks always knew how to leave me caught between amusement and desire. "You’re overestimating yourself, Shanks."

"Oh, am I?" His grip on my waist tightened slightly, pulling me even closer until our breaths mingled. "We could test that tomorrow, but I’ll warn you… I don’t usually lose at these games."

I let out a small laugh, but deep down, I knew he was right. There was something about him that always managed to draw me in, and while I loved to challenge him, the truth was, I wanted him more than I cared to admit. Still, I couldn’t let him win too easily.

"Alright," I finally said, my voice softer as my hands slid up to rest on his shoulders. "I’ll go… but don’t think you’ll have all my attention."

Shanks smirked, that familiar cocky grin I couldn’t resist. "Don’t worry," he said confidently, his lips so close to mine that I could almost feel the touch. "I’ll settle for half… for now."

The silence between us grew heavier, charged with that delicious tension that always hung in the air when we were this close. Finally, unable to resist any longer, our lips met in a slow, lingering kiss that quickly deepened, the world around us fading away.

As we pulled apart, just enough to catch our breath, Shanks looked at me with those dark eyes that seemed to see right through me. With a playful smile, he murmured, "Tomorrow, I’ll prove to you that you can’t ignore me."

I smiled back, feeling a mix of anticipation and desire coursing through my veins. "We’ll see who wins," I whispered before he stole another kiss, more passionate than the last.

I woke up to the soft sensation of something warm and familiar around me. Opening my eyes, I found Shanks, his arm wrapped around my waist, his face resting on my shoulder. The warmth of his body, his steady breathing, and the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat made everything feel perfect for a moment. I didn’t want to move—just stay there, in his arms, basking in that sense of safety and affection.

However, I knew I’d have to get ready for the barbecue soon. I shifted slightly, trying not to wake him, but his arms tightened around me. “Were you planning to sneak off without saying goodbye?” he murmured, his voice husky, still half-asleep.

I smiled, turning to look at him better. “I have to get ready for Marco’s barbecue,” I reminded him softly, my fingers gently running through his hair.

Shanks opened one eye, gazing at me with a playful grin starting to form. “You could stay here a little longer…” His hand slid down my back, tracing soft patterns that sent shivers through me.

“I’d love to,” I replied, leaning in to give him a small kiss on the lips, “but if I stay any longer, I won’t even have time to get dressed.”

He chuckled softly before pulling me closer, burying his face in my neck and whispering, “Perfect.”

Shanks enveloped me in his warmth, and for a moment, I considered giving in and staying with him all day. But eventually, I managed to pull away, though not without some resistance from him.

“I’ll see you at the barbecue,” I said, standing and stretching. The shirt he had lent me still smelled like him, bringing a smile to my face. He sat up on the bed, watching me.

“I’ll be waiting,” he said with a mischievous smile, raising a hand in farewell.

Once I stepped out of his apartment, the fresh morning air greeted me. Though I was a little tired from the intensity of the night, I was also excited for the day ahead. As I walked home, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a message from Beckman.

Beckman: Y/N, things got complicated for tonight. But meet me tomorrow at 9 AM at HawkEdge Industries, and have the presentation ready.

His message brought back the memory of his proposition. Beckman wanted to talk about something, though I still didn’t know what. The text left me feeling slightly nervous, but I decided to shelve my uncertainty for later. I wouldn’t know until tomorrow anyway. What could be so pressing for Beckman? Why all the mystery? It was clear I wouldn’t get answers just yet.

Once home, I took a quick shower and chose a casual but cute outfit for the occasion. I knew Shanks would be there, so I couldn’t just show up in anything, but I didn’t want to look like I’d tried too hard, either.

Just as I was finishing up, Nami appeared at the door with a big smile, wearing stylish sunglasses and a perfect summer dress. “Ready for the barbecue?” she asked.

“Ready,” I replied, though my mind kept drifting back to my moments with Shanks and the pending conversation with Beckman.

“Thinking about Shanks?” Nami asked, noticing my distracted expression.

“Something like that,” I admitted with a sidelong smile. “And Beckman too. He wants to see me tomorrow, and I hope he’s not disappointed with how I handled things the other day.”

Nami raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Beckman, huh? That man always has something up his sleeve.”

Nami and I headed downstairs and got into the car, driving to Marco’s house.

The barbecue was in full swing when we arrived. The sun was shining brightly, and the air was filled with the delicious aroma of grilled meat and carefree laughter. Several familiar faces were already there, with Marco serving drinks while Zoro and Sanji argued over who made the best skewers—meanwhile, Luffy took advantage and ate them all.

“Looks like we got here just in time,” Nami remarked, adjusting her sunglasses as she waved to Robin, who was sitting by the pool.

We walked around the yard, greeting everyone, but my eyes couldn’t help but search for one person in particular. And then I saw him—across the garden, laughing with the rest of the group. Shanks spotted me almost instantly and, with that smile of his that always seemed meant just for me, gestured for me to come over.

“Well, well, look who decided to join the party,” Shanks said as I approached, his eyes sweeping over me with an appreciative gaze.

“Something to say about how I look?” I replied, crossing my arms with a feigned air of nonchalance.

“I’ll keep my comments to myself, though…” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I’d say you look good enough to tempt me not to let you out of my sight today.”

I smiled, trying to keep my composure as warmth spread through me. “Just today?”

Shanks laughed, stepping even closer and leaving very little space between us. “Well, that depends on you.”

His laughter wrapped around me like a warm breeze, drawing me into his orbit. But before I could respond, a third voice broke into the conversation.

“Y/N? How is it that every time I see you, you look even more stunning?” Sanji appeared out of nowhere, his impeccable posture paired with a flower in his hand. It was as if he always had a romantic gesture ready. He approached with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Sanji,” I greeted, smiling at his ever-present charm. “I’ve missed you,” I said, giving him a warm hug.

“And I’ve missed you, beautiful!” he replied dramatically, as was his style. “Has anyone told you today just how utterly enchanting you look?”

Before I could answer, Shanks, who had been quietly observing, stepped in. “I think someone might have mentioned it. But not with such… intensity,” he said, raising an eyebrow with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Sanji, unfazed, shot him a confident look. “My words aren’t theater, Shanks. I just speak the truth when I see something as dazzling as Y/N.”

The atmosphere filled with a playful tension. While Shanks tried to maintain his cool humor, I could tell Sanji’s open flirtation was testing his patience. Shanks looked at me again, his eyes saying far more than his words.

“Sanji, always so attentive to the ladies,” Shanks commented, slipping his hands into his pockets with a casual air.

Sanji, quick as ever, smiled. “Oh, did I interrupt something? That wasn’t my intention. But if you want to impress a lady like Y/N, Shanks, you should learn a thing or two about romance. Details matter, my friend.”

Shanks let out a laugh, but this one was more sardonic. “Details?” he said, his tone low and laced with intent, his gaze locked on me.

Sanji raised his hands in mock surrender but couldn’t resist one last comment. “Well, just making sure everything’s going smoothly here. You know where to find me.” He winked at me before walking off, leaving Shanks and me amidst a charged silence.

I chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Sanji always knows how to make an entrance, doesn’t he?”

Shanks didn’t respond immediately, though his smile had returned, more relaxed now. “Yeah, he has that gift,” he admitted, though I could sense a lingering touch of jealousy. “But you’re not the kind to fall for a few compliments, are you?”

I looked at him with a playful glint in my eyes. “Are you getting jealous, Shanks?”

He leaned in closer, his signature mischievous grin back on his face. “Jealous? Nah…”

Just then, his phone rang, cutting the moment short. With a quick glance at the screen, he sighed, a mix of irritation and resignation. “Give me a second,” he said, stepping aside to take the call.

I watched him as he spoke, his expressions shifting subtly from irritation to a kind of tense calm. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but his body was tight with tension, and his responses were brief. When he finally hung up, he slipped the phone into his pocket with a sharp motion, clearly annoyed.

I approached him, gently touching his arm. “Everything okay?” I asked, noticing the tension in his face.

Shanks let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as if trying to relax. “Yeah… well, sort of,” he replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I just got reminded I have to go to New York next week. Meetings, business, you know… And honestly, I’m not looking forward to it.”

I crossed my arms, looking at him with curiosity. “Why not? New York doesn’t sound so bad.”

Shanks let out a small laugh, though his foul mood was still evident. “It’s chaos—too many boring meetings and people I’d rather not spend time with. Besides, I’d rather be here, with you.”

The comment brought a shy smile to my lips. I was about to say something to cheer him up when, suddenly, his expression shifted. His eyes lit up playfully, and his usual grin—the one that always carried a mischievous edge—returned.

“You know,” he said, leaning toward me, “everything would be so much easier if you came with me.” His tone was full of teasing, but there was a thread of sincerity woven into his words. “We could sneak away after the meetings, go out for dinner…”

I looked at him, a mix of surprise and amusement on my face, clearly not expecting that invitation. “Are you serious? Shanks, that’s crazy,” I said, trying to hide how fast my heart was racing at the thought.

Shanks nodded, leaning in a little closer, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Completely serious, Y/N. What do you say? Besides, I can always come up with some excuse to skip a meeting or two…"

I chuckled softly, trying not to let myself get too carried away by his charm. "Shanks, I don’t know… It sounds tempting, but it’s not that simple."

He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his expression suddenly more serious. "Actually, it is. I leave Thursday. Tomorrow, I’ll tell my assistant to book one more ticket. I’ve already got a double room, so there’s more than enough space."

I stayed silent, trying to process everything. Shanks slid an arm behind my back, guiding me closer to him, inch by inch. When I was just millimeters from his face, he whispered, “Just say you’ll come.”

“Alright… I’ll go,” I replied, stunned by the impulsiveness that had overtaken me.

Shanks leaned even closer, his breath warm against my ear, every move of his calm and deliberate. “Perfect, because I plan to make love to you every second of that trip.”

My face burned, and a sensation ran through my entire body. I immediately turned to look at him, and his mischievous grin lit up his face. Without another word, before I could even react, he turned on his heel and walked toward the drinks table.

I stood there, my heart pounding so hard I could almost hear its echo in my ears. Had he really said that? And, worse, had I really agreed to go with him? I felt the heat rising in my cheeks as I tried to regain my composure. Around me, the party continued as if nothing had happened, but for me, everything seemed to have slowed down.

I noticed Nami approaching me, this time with a peculiar expression: a mix of nerves and determination.

“What’s up?” I asked, curious, as I noticed she wasn’t alone.

Nami, her usual confidence slightly wavering for some reason, took a breath before responding. “I want to introduce you to someone. Robin, Y/N, this is Smoker. He’s… well, my Ph.D. supervisor.”

I was momentarily stunned because Smoker wasn’t exactly the first person I’d picture next to someone like Nami. Tall, imposing, with that constant expression of being halfway between annoyed and focused, he commanded attention without trying. But at that moment, there was a certain softness in his gaze, especially when he looked at Nami.

Robin, always the diplomat, was the first to break the ice, extending a hand with a calm smile. “Nice to meet you, Smoker. We’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

“Is that good or bad?” Smoker asked, raising an eyebrow as he shook Robin’s hand. His voice was deep but not hostile.

“Depends on who you ask,” I chimed in with a grin, trying to ease any tension. “Though if Nami brought you here, that already says a lot.”

Nami, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of the conversation focusing too much on her relationship, took control. “Smoker, these are my friends, Robin and Y/N. I think Y/N might sound familiar; she’s in the same department as Beckman.”

Smoker gave me a brief, assessing look before nodding. “I’ve heard about you as well. Nami has a special talent for gathering competent people… and for getting me into trouble,” he added with a faint smile.

“How’s work, Smoker?” I asked. “It must be interesting leading a team like Nami’s.”

“Interesting is one way to put it,” he said, crossing his arms. “Though I can’t deny it’s always full of surprises.”

“That’s why you like it,” Nami interjected, regaining some of her usual sass. “Admit it, Smoker. Without me, your work would be boring as hell.”

Smoker let out a low laugh, as though he agreed but didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of admitting it outright. “I wouldn’t say boring is the right word, but yeah, you definitely… add some dynamism to things.”

The chemistry between them was undeniable, and even though Smoker wasn’t the type to display affection openly, the way he spoke to and looked at Nami made it clear there was a solid bond between them.

Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded behind me.

Shanks’ unmistakable voice interrupted the moment, resonating with that mix of mockery and confidence that always followed him.

“Well, well, what do we have here? Smoker at a party? And with a lady as company? This must be an early Christmas miracle.” His mischievous grin appeared as he approached with a drink in hand.

Smoker glanced at him sideways, crossing his arms as if trying to maintain his usual composure, though the corner of his mouth threatened to curl into a smile. “Look who’s talking. The man who uses work meetings as an excuse to flirt. To what do we owe the honor, Shanks? Another one of your conquests around here?”

Shanks let out a hearty laugh, clearly enjoying the exchange. “Oh, Smoker, you’re always so formal. And no, this isn’t a conquest. Although…” he turned toward me, raising an eyebrow and flashing a smile that could melt ice, “Y/N might say otherwise"

My face lit up like a torch, and I wanted to disappear right then and there. But before I could react, Nami, with her usual boldness, chimed in, pointing at Shanks with an accusatory look. “Are you seriously trying to rope Y/N into one of your crazy schemes? All because you can’t stand going to your boring meetings alone?”

“Boring? They’re unbearable!” Shanks threw up both hands, exaggerating his disdain, before winking at me. “But with good company, they can become… interesting.”

Smoker didn’t miss the chance to take a jab. “Interesting… Sure. How much do you bet he won’t last ten minutes in those meetings before sneaking out with some cheap excuse?”

Shanks feigned outrage, clutching his chest as if wounded. “How little you know me, my friend. I never sneak out. I just make everyone else want to wrap things up quickly so they can leave with me.”

“That’s what you’re calling it now?” Smoker replied, with a barely perceptible smirk.

The tension in the air wasn’t hostile but carried the weight of a deeply rooted friendly rivalry. Robin, ever the observer, smiled softly as she took a sip of her drink. “I wonder how such a peculiar friendship between the two of you even works.”

“It works because I’m the spark Smoker needs in his life,” Shanks replied without missing a beat. “Without me, he’d be buried in paperwork and black coffee.”

“And I’m the one who keeps this lunatic grounded,” Smoker countered, his deep voice laced with humor. “If it weren’t for me, he’d have been fired from every business venture he’s meddled in.”

“Oh, really? Well, I don’t know if that includes my next venture with you.” Shanks dropped the line casually but with enough intent to make Smoker raise an eyebrow and glance briefly at Nami.

“Careful, Shanks,” Smoker warned, his gaze steady but with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You mess with my team, and you’ll have problems.”

“Problems? Please, Smoker, you know I love challenges,” Shanks responded with a wink, leaning closer to me and adding in a lower voice, as if sharing a secret, “Besides, I always win.”

After a while, the group began to disperse a bit. Shanks leaned closer to me, lowering his voice. “What do you think of Mr. Serious?” he asked, clearly referring to Smoker.

“I think he’s perfect for Nami,” I replied, smiling as I glanced over at the redhead, who was busy arguing with Zoro about some irrelevant detail.

Shanks nodded, his eyes glinting with something I couldn’t quite decipher. “Yeah, they have good chemistry. But what about us?”

I blinked at him. “What about us?”

He smiled, leaning in a little closer, but before he could answer, Smoker reappeared behind us, his imposing presence cutting off whatever Shanks had been about to say.

“Everything all right here?” he asked, his tone calm, though his eyes went straight to Shanks.

“Absolutely perfect,” Shanks replied with a grin. “I’ll grab a drink for the lady.” He kissed my cheek and walked off, leaving me alone with Smoker.

“Be careful with that one,” Smoker said, his tone a mix of seriousness and a teasing edge I didn’t fully understand.

“Everyone keeps saying that, but no one tells me why,” I sighed.

“You’ve probably noticed he’s very fond of women… and all those games he plays. Just saying, tread carefully. Just in case,” he replied.

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

The day began with a sense of nervous anticipation. The address Beckman had sent me was imposing from the first glance. In front of me stood the headquarters of HawkEdge Industries, a multinational leader in advanced technology, artificial intelligence, and cutting-edge gadgets.

As I adjusted my jacket, a message from Beckman popped up on my phone:

"Head up to the 12th floor. Get ready to defend your project in front of some of the most important investors, CEOs, and executives in the industry. Today’s your chance to shine."

My heart skipped a beat. I had known this moment would come, but I hadn’t expected to face such a high-caliber committee so soon. Taking a deep breath, I made my way to the building’s lobby, where everything exuded understated luxury and professionalism.

Just as the elevator doors were about to close, a strong, familiar hand stopped them. They reopened to reveal Shanks, his entry as casual as it was commanding. His carefree smile appeared instantly when he saw me, as if nothing else in the world mattered. He strolled in unhurriedly, pressing the button for the 12th floor without taking his eyes off me.

“Good morning,” he said warmly, his voice making it impossible to ignore his presence.

“Good morning,” I replied, trying to sound composed, even as the confined elevator seemed to amplify the tension between us. “Are you headed to the meeting too?”

The elevator began its smooth ascent, and the silence that followed was charged with something I couldn’t quite define. Shanks stepped closer, his eyes scanning mine with an intensity that made it hard to look away. He didn’t speak right away. Instead, he raised a hand—gentle but deliberate—and took mine.

“They let me know this morning,” he said, his voice low and resonant, as his thumb softly traced circles on the back of my hand. “But I don’t know if I can wait…”

My eyes widened slightly, caught off guard. “Wait for what?” I managed to ask, though my voice sounded weaker than I intended.

“For this,” he said simply.

Before I could process his words, Shanks leaned in and closed the distance between us. His lips met mine, and the world seemed to stop. His kiss was passionate and assured, as if he wanted to etch this moment into my memory. One hand slid gently upward from my thigh to my waist, firm yet unhurried, while the other held mine securely.

There was no rush, just intensity. The slow rhythm of the elevator seemed to match the deliberate way his lips moved against mine. I could feel his breath mingling with mine, and the nearness of his body sent my heartbeat racing.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes sparkled with the mischievous glint that was so quintessentially Shanks.

The elevator reached the 12th floor with a soft ding. Shanks stepped back but didn’t immediately let go of my hand. Instead, he used his free hand to adjust my hair, as if preparing me for what was to come.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he said with a wink that left me completely disarmed.

When the doors opened, his demeanor shifted seamlessly. He adopted his professional-yet-carefree air with such ease that it almost made me question if what had just happened was real. His words still echoed in my mind, and the warmth of his touch lingered on my skin.

I barely had time to collect myself before following him into the same meeting room he had entered. It was as impressive as it was intimidating: an enormous glass table surrounded by influential figures. At the head of the table sat Mihawk, exuding his usual commanding presence. At the back of the room, I spotted Ben Beckman, who gave me an encouraging nod.

The meeting room was designed to impress, with tall windows letting in streams of natural light. I tried not to dwell too much on the attentive faces watching me as I began presenting my project.

Taking a deep breath, I launched into my presentation, my voice steady as I explained the scope, methodology, and expected outcomes. As I progressed, I noticed several heads nodding in approval. But just as I started to feel more confident, the questions began.

The first came from a broad-shouldered man representing an international investment firm. His question was direct and critical, targeting a point I had carefully prepared for. I answered confidently, breaking my response into clear and concise parts. Then, another woman posed an even more technical question, which I tackled with the same composure.

But then, a deep and unmistakable voice broke in.

“An interesting approach,” Mihawk said with that calculated calm that made every word sound like a challenge. “But did you consider that your proposal might become obsolete within five years due to the rapid advancements in artificial intelligence? If so, how do you justify long-term investment?”

My throat went dry for a moment. I knew Mihawk never asked random questions. But before I could respond, a familiar voice cut in.

“With all due respect, Mihawk,” Shanks said, leaning forward with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I think you’re underestimating the flexibility of this project. Its modular approach ensures it can adapt to technological changes without losing efficiency.”

I noticed Mihawk raise an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the interruption.

“Flexibility? That sounds more like improvised strategy than solid planning,” Mihawk countered, directing his words more at Shanks than at me.

“Only if you look at it superficially,” Shanks replied, reclining in his chair. “But I’m sure the lady can explain how this modular design anticipates trends, isn’t that right?” he said, throwing me a playful wink.

My face flushed slightly at his comment, though no one else seemed to notice. Straightening my posture, I took back control.

“Actually,” I said with a faint smile, “the modular design is crucial precisely because of the fast-paced advancements in technology. It not only enables seamless integration of new innovations but also minimizes update costs. This ensures the investment remains competitive over time.”

The room fell silent for a moment before several attendees nodded in approval. Even Mihawk seemed to consider my response before offering a slight nod.

“Interesting,” Mihawk said, his gaze fixed on me. “However, I wonder how you plan to handle the potential monopolization by larger competitors. Fresh ideas often end up being absorbed by less… creative corporations.”

“You mean HawkEdge Industries?” Shanks quipped with a sly grin, leaning slightly toward Mihawk.

A quiet murmur rippled through the room. Mihawk’s icy gaze turned to Shanks.

“I was merely mentioning a possibility,” Mihawk replied evenly, though his tone carried a sharp edge.

“Of course, of course. Just as I was,” Shanks shot back, raising his glass of water in a mock toast before taking a sip.

My heart raced. Though their tension wasn’t overt, it was tangible in every exchange—a chess game where I was both an observer and a piece.

The head of Mihawk’s division, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke.

“Y/N,” she said seriously, “I’d like to know how you plan to balance innovation with profitability. Innovation always involves risk, and companies aren’t always willing to take those risks. What would be your strongest argument to convince them?”

I took a deep breath, aware that this was a pivotal moment to prove myself.

“Innovation does come with risks,” I began, “but it’s also the only way to ensure sustainable growth. My approach focuses on demonstrating not only the technical viability of the project but also its measurable impact in terms of efficiency and return on investment. Additionally, by prioritizing collaboration with multiple strategic partners, the risk is distributed, making the adoption of these technologies safer and more accessible.”

This time, the silence that followed was filled with approval. Even Mihawk seemed to mull over my response before offering a slight nod.

When I finished my presentation, I let out a sigh of relief, and although my heart was still racing, a sense of satisfaction began to settle in. I had survived.

The businesspeople started to approach. Some shook my hand enthusiastically, while others shared words of admiration or interest in my project. Each positive comment energized me, but I also began to feel the exhaustion from having been under so much pressure for so long.

As the room began to empty, I stayed by the table collecting my things. That’s when I saw him. Mihawk, still as imposing as ever, walked toward me with calculated steps, his gaze locked on mine. For a moment, the air seemed to thicken.

“Y/N,” he said in that calm, authoritative voice that was impossible to ignore. “Your presentation was impressive. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” I replied, trying to maintain composure in front of someone with such weight in the industry.

He crossed his arms, studying me with an intensity that made me feel like I was under a microscope again. But instead of a critique or a difficult question, his tone shifted slightly, becoming more casual.

“I’d like to propose something,” he said, leaning just a bit closer to me. “Tonight, there’s a private event at the Skylight Club. The most influential CEOs, investors, and executives from this industry and others will be there. It’ll be an exceptional opportunity for you to network and expand your professional connections.”

His proposal caught me off guard. For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. My mind quickly processed the implications: this was an invitation that could open doors for me, but it also meant stepping into a completely unfamiliar environment.

“That sounds… interesting,” I said finally, though my voice betrayed my doubt.

Mihawk tilted his head slightly, as if he already knew what was going through my mind. “I understand it might seem overwhelming,” he continued, “but don’t worry. I’ll be there. You can come with me. Consider it an investment in your future.”

The weight of his words hit me. This wasn’t just an invitation; it was a unique opportunity to connect with people who could make a difference in my career. Still, something in his tone, in his piercing gaze, made me hesitate.

“I don’t know if… I’d be up for it,” I murmured, almost to myself.

Mihawk let out a soft chuckle, low and almost inaudible. “You proved yourself today. Just make sure you take advantage of it.”

I stayed silent, biting my lip as I considered his offer. Before I could answer, Mihawk took another step closer, his presence even more intimidating but also strangely comforting.

“Come with me,” he said, and this time it wasn’t a suggestion, but a statement. “I’m confident it’ll benefit you, and I don’t often make mistakes.”

I felt a knot form in my stomach, but I finally nodded. “Alright, I’ll go.”

A faint smile appeared on his face, barely perceptible. “Perfect. One of our cars will pick you up at eight.”

Before I could say anything else, Mihawk nodded in a gesture of farewell and left the room, leaving behind a mix of intrigue, excitement, and a little nervousness. This invitation, this event… I knew it could change everything.

When I got home, I felt as though I was floating in a bubble of anticipation. The day had been long, but the thought of attending the event at the Skylight Club filled the air with an electric energy. I opened my closet, scanning my options, looking for something that balanced sophistication with a sense of confidence. Finally, I chose an elegant black dress with subtle fabric details that shimmered in the light, and heels that added a touch of boldness.

With just the right makeup and my hair styled, I took one last look in the mirror.

Outside, a black car waited, as imposing as the person who had sent it.

When I stepped out, the impeccably dressed driver opened the back door for me. The interior of the vehicle was just as elegant, with soft lighting and a subtle fragrance that spoke of luxury. I sank into the leather seat, trying to calm myself as the car glided smoothly through the illuminated streets.

When we arrived at the Skylight Club, the magnitude of the place was even more impressive than I had imagined. From the outside, the glass façade reflected the city lights, and the interior glow hinted at an exclusive, vibrant event. Inside, some of the businesspeople and executives I already knew were chatting with others I hadn’t yet identified. As I surveyed the room, Mihawk, with his imposing presence, shifted his gaze toward me, excused himself, and made his way to the entrance. A doorman greeted me, and just as I was about to step inside, a familiar figure appeared behind me.

Mihawk was there, waiting for me. He offered his arm with a slight bow of his head, and as I took it, I felt every eye in the room focus on us as we crossed the club’s doors.

The interior was a spectacle of luxury. Crystal chandeliers sparkled like stars, and the soft music blended with the hum of refined conversations. Mihawk guided me with the ease of someone who belonged in that world, greeting influential people as he introduced me and included me in all his conversations. The curious glances were inevitable, but he seemed completely unbothered.

I was amazed by Mihawk’s ability to navigate conversations, always direct but never brusque. And while he addressed others with courtesy, his eyes often returned to me, watching me as if he were analyzing every one of my movements. There was something in his gaze that made me feel both admired and exposed.

In the middle of the evening, as I admired the view from one of the terraces, a familiar presence interrupted my thoughts. I turned, and to my surprise, there was Shanks. He was dressed in a dark suit, but with his usual rebellious touch: his shirt slightly unbuttoned and an air of carelessness that contrasted with the ambiance of the place. His eyes met mine, and a smile formed on his face.

“Well, well. Looks like the Skylight Club has raised its standards tonight,” Shanks said, glancing at Mihawk, who remained impassive beside me.

“Shanks,” Mihawk replied, his deep tone carrying more weight than the words he said.

The tension between them was palpable, as if the air itself was filled with an invisible but intense energy. And in the midst of it, I could feel their gazes competing with each other, not just to assert dominance, but for something else I couldn’t yet decipher.

Shanks, with his usual boldness, broke the silence first.

“I must admit, I didn’t expect to find you here, Mihawk. And even less that this lady would agree to come with a bore like you.” His smile was a weapon: playful, but with a hidden intention that couldn’t go unnoticed.

“I suppose your presence here is less surprising,” Mihawk replied, his tone calm but sharp. “Where there’s wine and attention, there you are.”

I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, more out of nerves than anything else. Both men turned their heads toward me, as if my reaction was the new battlefield. Mihawk’s golden eyes studied me, while Shanks’ warm and almost teasing gaze invited me to relax.

“What do you think, Y/N?” Shanks asked, leaning toward me with that charming familiarity. “Don’t you think a night like this should be for enjoying and relaxing?”

“I am enjoying,” I said, trying to sound calm. “Although I must admit, you two make it… interesting.”

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, and Shanks let out a laugh that rang like light music against the distant conversations.

Before I could respond, Mihawk gently took my hand and placed it on his arm, as if claiming invisible territory. “I need to speak with Y/N, if you’ll excuse us… Shanks.”

He didn’t wait for a response. With that silent authority he was known for, he began guiding me toward another part of the club. Shanks didn’t protest, but I could feel his gaze fixed on our backs as we moved away. There was something in the way Mihawk led me, as though he was marking a boundary only he understood.

We arrived at a more private section of the club, where a glass wall offered an impressive view of the city. The nighttime landscape glittered with lights and movement, but the energy between the two of us was even more intense.

“I hope you don’t mind my interruption,” Mihawk said, breaking the silence. His voice was deep, almost whispered, and his golden eyes shone with something I couldn’t quite decipher. “Shanks has a knack for monopolizing attention, and that’s not always… appropriate.”

“Interruption? I’m not sure I’d call it that,” I responded, trying to match his calm tone. “Although I won’t deny that you two have quite a… unique dynamic.”

“Unique?” Mihawk let out a slight smile, barely perceptible, as his gaze returned to the view. “That’s a polite way to describe it.”

Before I could respond, he turned to look at me directly. His intensity was almost overwhelming, as though he was searching for something beyond the words.

“Y/N,” he said, pronouncing my name with a gravity that made me catch my breath. “We want to finance your project, I’ve already spoken to my boss. You’re in.”

Mihawk let his words hang in the air, as if waiting for the weight of his offer to settle in me.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked finally, trying to hide the disbelief in my voice.

His golden eyes held me with an intensity that took my breath away. “I don’t make decisions lightly, Y/N. I see potential in you and your project. And when I decide something, I do it with full determination.”

My mind was tangled in a mix of doubts and emotions. I knew what this opportunity could mean for me, for my plans. But accepting his help also came with implications.

“Alright,” I said finally, my voice firmer than I felt. “I accept your offer.”

A slight smile appeared on his lips, a gesture as rare as it was meaningful. “I knew you’d make the right decision.”

Before I could say anything more, I excused myself. “I need a moment. I’m going to the bathroom.”

“I’ll wait for you,” he replied calmly.

I walked down the club’s elegant hallway, my heels softly echoing against the marble floor. I needed a second to breathe, to sort my thoughts. The night was proving much more intense than I had anticipated, and now I had to process the fact that Shanks wasn’t just in my life, but Mihawk was involved in my project too. I wasn’t sure how I would manage their rivalry.

When I returned, my eyes scanned the room for Mihawk. However, what caught my attention was a familiar figure sitting on one of the velvet sofas. Shanks.

He wasn’t alone.

An elegant woman sat beside him, wearing a fitted dress that seemed tailor-made to accentuate every curve. Her perfectly styled hair fell in soft waves, and her smile carried a confidence that bordered on arrogance: Elisabeth.

My stomach twisted instantly. As she spoke animatedly, leaning forward to say something that made him laugh. That laugh I knew all too well.

A fire of jealousy and frustration ignited in my chest. I had no right to feel this way, right? Shanks and I weren’t anything official. But that didn’t make it any less painful to see him with her.

For a moment, I hesitated. I could turn around and avoid the scene entirely. Pretend I hadn’t seen it. But something in me refused to back down.

I slowly approached, maintaining my composure despite the inner turmoil. Shanks looked up when he noticed me, and a genuine smile crossed his face.

Before anyone could even react, Elisabeth turned her head toward me, her eyes studying me with a mix of surprise and something else… a hint of irritation.

“Oh, dear,” she said in her sweet voice, clearly feigning courtesy. “What a coincidence to see you here. Shanks and I were just reminiscing about old times. Right, darling?” she continued, placing her hand on Shanks’ arm.

My jaw tightened, but I didn’t let my expression falter. “Old times? How interesting. Though I thought that was just the short version of saying ‘the past.’”

Elisabeth’s smile remained, but I saw a flash of annoyance in her eyes. “The past is never as far away as we think, darling. Isn’t that right, Shanks?”

Shanks scratched his beard distractedly, as though he’d rather be anywhere else.

Elisabeth seized the ambiguity as an opportunity. She leaned slightly toward him, with a familiarity that made my skin crawl. “Oh, please, don’t be modest. Do you remember that night at the harbor, with the violinist? You always told me it was one of the best nights of your life.”

My jaw clenched further, and I had to make a conscious effort not to shoot her a look that betrayed what I was feeling. Shanks seemed visibly uncomfortable, clearly realizing that Elisabeth wasn’t just talking about the past, but throwing a direct provocation.

The implication was crystal clear, but before I could strike back, an unmistakable presence interrupted the conversation.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Mihawk’s calm, deep voice resonated behind me, and the mere sound of it seemed to freeze the air. I turned and saw him approaching, impeccable and serene, as if the tension in the room had no effect on him.

---------------TO BE CONTINUED--------------

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