#I’m proud of this author though
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You ever read a fic written by someone where English is not their first language so there’s grammatical errors a native speaker would know not to make and you like the story! It’s a great premise! but you also just want to just real quick edit the grammar so that your brain can stop twitching?
#and they’re like feedback welcome!#but obviously you’re not going to post an entire essay of notations of syntax errors in the comments#I’m proud of this author though#I can’t imagine writing 60+ chapters of a story in a non native language#writing#ao3#writers on tumblr#creative writing#writers#fanfiction#writeblr#fanfic#mine#archive of our own
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I think Keon and Kassandra might be related.
... ok hear me out.
first of all, their hair colors are similar, which is often a narrative shorthand for “these two characters are related”, especially in stuff like anime where hair colors are much more unique. Additionally, their speech bubbles are almost the exact same color.
But if you want actual evidence? Keon is the first character in the story to show suspicion of Headmaster Vaughn.
Much much later in the story, Kassandra also shows suspicion, and launches an investigation on him.
It’s reasonable to assume that Keon could have planted that first seed of suspicion in her head, if the two of them have some connection. This goes especially since they both work for the authorities, but Keon doesn’t work for a department that could authorize him to launch an investigation like that. Kassandra has the authority to do all the things with Vaughn that Keon is frustrated about not being able to do. If they’re related, Keon probably asked Kassandra to launch the investigation.
It would also explain Keon’s interest in Wellston, considering he used to work in or near New Bostin which is far away, if Kassandra went there.
Keon also looks like he’s old enough to be her dad. He doesn’t have to be her dad specifically, but my age estimate for Kassandra is 24 (assuming I mathed right), and Keon looks like he could be in his 50s or 60s, which is a reasonable age to have had Kassandra. (Kassandra’s age calculation is a maximum btw. She can’t be older than that unless she was held back or sm.)
So basically, it could be true.
[At the time of this prediction, the latest chapter is 345]
#unordinary#Keon UnOrdinary#Kassandra UnOrdinary#theory#prediction#kinda both#I’m gonna start leaving those notes on what chapter my prediction was made in case any of them come true#bc i did successfully predict the conversion tech like wayyy before it was revealed#based on chapter 203#the evidence being: Volcan and Valerie are obviously the same person but have different abilities#It makes sense that EMBER could change someone’s ability because they have multiple members but all the heros are killed the same way#EMBER is backed by the authorities so they’d have the resources; and ability altering tech is not unheard of.#Then on a reread I noticed Volcan rummaging in her pocket before she pulled out her flame claws.#That pretty much confirmed it for me#but I thought that there was something in her pocket that could’ve changed her ability without taking it out. I was wrong on that#Anyway i’m really proud of that prediction but my only evidence for it is a comment I left and i can’t find it#Though I’m significantly less confident about this prediction lol
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saw a post where u answered an ask abt wovey and bobbin presumably in smth u wrote so like do u have an ao3 if so what is it if not what do you write on
Ohhhhh my Lord have I never done an introduction? I’ve never done an intro post and I only link my fics on initial posting I’m so stupid!!
My AO3’s AVerySmollBrownie :D
#anon ask#i’m very dumb#definitely not crossing my fingers hoping you’ll read the two treaper one shots because I’m super proud of them#but they barely got any interaction#which makes me sad#even though I understand#because they’re not exactly a popular or conventional duo#ao3 writer#ao3 author
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How to Get Rid of Leftover Sweets
Bubo finds himself in possession of a great quantity of food that he’s… Not exactly a fan of.
Not one to waste food, he sets out to see which of his friends he can pawn it off to.
Read it on AO3 Here!
This is a birthday gift for @partuulla, who also, of course, owns the BUBO series! Give them some well-wishes for me, won’t you?
#{fic}#bubo series#bubo series fanart#bubo series fanfic#ao3 author#ao3 link#this was a quick one ‘cause of essays and stuff but i’m still quite proud of it!#bubo#aku punk#daniel#gavril#though. the gavril is more…. heavily implied than anything#anyways i hope you all enjoy it!!
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When my sister told me she was going to be in a NYT article I didn’t think it would impact me on tumblr and now I keep seeing critiques of it and I have to grit my teeth and remind myself that they are not coming after my sister but the way the article was written but at the same time!! You better believe that if they didn’t reach out to our parents and allow them to speak on the matter, my mother would have rained hellfire upon that article. And upon me as well for not telling her it was going to happen. I had mental breakdowns leading up to the publication and then I saw the publication and was like. Oh. Yeah. She just lies. And yeah that sucks and is fucking with me right now. But like. I still understand why they asked her for comment. And yeah I would have wanted the article written differently but like. Idk it makes me upset that people seem more upset than I am and my family is actually in the article. And maybe that’s because I feel stuck and I wish I could be like my sister and escape but I am still enmeshed in my parents life bc I am less than an hour away and they still financially help me and it’s like. Am I an ungrateful bitch? Or am I a traitor to my sister? And now every time I see the article on my dash I get dealt psychic damage and have the urge to defend my sister even though no one is attacking her. And so I’m a tangled knot of emotions, emotions I was taught to suppress and bury, and yeah. Idk. I felt the urge to vent.
#like I’m so proud of my sister for talking about it#when all our lives we were told NEVER to talk about family matters#and so this was a huge thing for her#so it’s hard for my silly little brain to see the article not well received#even though that isn’t my sisters fault#also#part of me wanted to reach out to the author after it was published#and be like#yeah my mom lied#two against one bitch#but alas#my mother knows where I live#also cut offs are extremely hard#yeah they abused you but they are still your parents#and part of the issue is that the abuse had moments of calm#moments of kindness#where she would defend us and help us#but she still hurt us#and we don’t want to hurt her#we just want to get better#and I’m trying to get better without having to cut her off#because the possibility that she will kill herself is high if I leave#I just have a lot of feelings#personal
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Good news: I made my first (non-assignment) animatic!!
Bad news: it’s a vent
(it has no explicit material but its nature as a vent makes it potentially triggering so please proceed with caution)
#fuccckkinggg helllllllllll#tw vent#animatic#sketchingstars art#shaymin vents#comfort characters#i’m back in the fucking building again#yes that’s a Snapcube audio#I cope with humour 😎#vent art#vent tw#cw vent#I am not very well though#vent animatic#proud of those expressions at the very least#yeah this was drawn in my partially-MHA-influenced style#it’s on theme#I wanna fight horikoshi (MHA author) in a Denny’s parking lot#will I win?#likely not#but I will go down kicking and biting and screaming#like always#man why do my comfort characters keep ending up like this huh?#I made this bs with procreate and imovie btw#yeah#might delete later#vent post#venting#vent#I hate Reddit and quotev is now on thin ice
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starry eyed
bucky barnes x reader
word count: 3.2k
summary: reader gets a special gift from her secret santa
warnings/tags: mostly just fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers, avenger!reader, no use of y/n, one minor injury, language, kissing and some sensuality
author's note: short little feel good christmas fic! everyone is alive and happy because i say so. i originally got the idea for this fic last winter, but i hadn't got back into writing at that time. happy that i was able to put it into words finally.
my masterlist
“So, whose name did you draw?”
You shove your hand into an oven mitt, grabbing a large dish out of the oven. Everyone had been assigned to bring a different breakfast food to the Christmas morning potluck.
Sam brought chocolate chip pancakes, Steve brought a shit ton of sausage links, and Sharon brought a giant fruit platter to name a few. You figured that the easiest, cheapest way to help feed a group of a dozen people is a couple tubes of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls.
“That kinda takes the secret out of Secret Santa.”
Bucky leans on the island in the middle of the compound’s kitchen, drinking his second cup of coffee of the morning. His breakfast dish of choice? A sack of two dozen McDonald’s hash browns.
“I was just testing you,” Bucky jokes. “You passed. Do you want to know who got your name?”
“No!” You whack his stomach with the oven mitt and he feigns injury. “I do not. Have I passed all of your tests?”
“I’m proud,” Bucky says after a big gulp of coffee. “You’re stronger than Sam, at least. He’s been asking everyone who drew his name for the last week.”
You roll your eyes. “He does that every year and no one ever tells him.”
Your friends begin filing into the kitchen, everyone grabbing plates and piling them high with all of the food scattered across the island. After making your plate, you retreat to the living room and nestle yourself between Natasha and Sharon on the couch.
Everyone is so occupied with stuffing their faces that there’s hardly any conversation. You halfway pay attention to the Hallmark Christmas rom-com playing on the television as you devour a stack of pancakes and hash browns.
Truthfully, you had hoped to draw Bucky’s name from the hat. You had a gift in mind for him already, and if you’d gotten his name then it would have presented you with the perfect opportunity to give it to him without any pressure for him to give you a gift in return.
You ended up drawing Sharon's name, but you decided to get the present for Bucky, anyway – a vintage tabletop phonograph from the forties that you’d snagged for an incredible deal on eBay. You didn’t put it under the gargantuan Christmas tree with all of the other gifts. It sits in your bedroom, waiting for you to give it to him later today when you’re not surrounded by all of your close friends.
To no one’s surprise, Sam and Peter are the first people to finish eating and immediately begin handing out all of the presents under the tree. You’re still finishing up your breakfast when Peter practically throws a small box wrapped in snowmen print paper towards you.
It's addressed to you, from your Secret Santa. Right off the bat, you’re sure that the gift didn’t come from Natasha – you know how much pride that she puts into gift wrapping. Not that this gift is wrapped poorly, but compared to Natasha’s typically extravagant bows, you’re confident that she wasn't the one who wrapped this present.
You also notice that the handwriting appears to be more on the masculine side. It looks familiar, though you can’t say with confidence who it belongs to.
“Alright, who wants to go first?” Sam says loudly enough to quiet all the chatter going on. “No one would spoil my gift for me and I’m getting impatient.”
You and Bucky share a knowing glance and eye roll at his words. He sits in a recliner directly across from you, holding the gift from his own Secret Santa.
“I’ll go first,” you offer excitedly, giving the box in your lap a small shake that gives nothing away.
You carelessly tear at the wrapping paper until it’s in pieces by your feet on the floor.
“What’d you get?” Sam asks.
You don’t respond at first, taking in the packaging of the box.
A northern lights projector.
You feel warmth spread across your cheeks and you can’t help but smile down at the gift in your hands, no longer having any doubt about who this gift came from.
One Month Ago
“These Spaghettios expired a couple weeks ago. Do you think we should risk it?”
You stand in the small kitchen of the Alaskan safe house, rifling through the limited options in the pantry. Some instant oatmeal packets, a few cans of Beanee Weenees, and the aforementioned expired Spaghettios are tonight’s dinner choices.
You can’t say you’re surprised – you’ve been doing this job for a while, and poorly stocked safe houses are pretty much the standard in this line of work. It doesn't help that this is the fifth night that you and Bucky have spent in this particular safe house, and you've eaten through all of the better options at this point.
“If you want to risk getting food poisoning in addition to that sprained ankle, then you go for it. I'll be sticking to the oatmeal.” Bucky reaches around you, grabbing a packet of maple and brown sugar oatmeal from the shelf that you stand in front of.
He's right. The oatmeal is the safest option.
One more night of this, you remind yourself. Tomorrow night, you'd be back in the comfort of your room, where you can DoorDash Chinese food.
You sigh, grabbing the remaining packet of oatmeal.
“You know, I wouldn't even mind the food situation nearly as much if I could just see the lights. Five nights here and nothing,” you grumble.
It’s your first time in Alaska, and you had high hopes for being able to see the northern lights. Each night so far, after long days of recon, you’ve stayed up past the point of exhaustion checking to see if they’re visible.
So far, the weather had been nothing but rainy and dreary, making the sky close to impossible to see at night. The clouds finally let up some today, but you've still seen no hint of an aurora. Just inky blackness, a crescent moon, and a steady downpour of snow that began a few hours ago.
“You could always get one of those projectors,” he teases with a shrug. “Northern lights, galaxies, constellations… all right there on your bedroom ceiling.”
Even though he won’t say it, you know he wants to see the northern lights as badly as you do. He's made it obvious by the way he glances out the window every so often to check.
You’ve been hoping that they’d make an appearance for him as much as for yourself. He's technically seen them before – decades ago. But never as himself. Never as Bucky.
“Those are neat,” you agree glumly. “I've just always wanted to see them in person. Kinda a bucket list thing.”
Getting to witness them with him would be the cherry on top, but you don’t add that part.
Bucky insists that you sit down on the couch and ice your ankle while he prepares the instant oatmeal for the two of you. You’re too tired to protest, so you retreat to the sofa and flip through the limited number of channels on the old TV with your foot propped up.
Fucking black ice. The last day of this mission and everything had gone swimmingly up until you slipped on a patch of clear ice earlier today, twisting your ankle.
You’re just thankful that it happened in front of Bucky, and not Sam. You can only imagine the teasing that would have ensued if it had been Sam that saw you eat shit.
The two of you eat by the warmth of the dwindling fire while watching a Seinfeld re-run.
You’re over three thousand miles from New York, but it doesn’t feel like you’re far from home at all. Bucky and you have been mission partners for quite some time now, and he has a way of making you feel like you’re at home, no matter where you’re actually at. His presence is familiar and comforting – whether you’re at the compound, or in a different country, or in Alaska – the familiarity and comfort of home is there, as long as he is.
“I’m gonna go get some more wood for the fire before bed,” Bucky says when he finishes scarfing down his food. You give him a quick nod, your mouth still crammed full of oatmeal. “You stay here and try not to sprain anything else,” he teases with a glance at your foot that’s elevated on the coffee table in front of you.
You shoot him an obscene gesture once his back is to you. “You act like my leg got cut off,” you grumble as he exits the house.
No more than ten seconds pass before you hear him call your name from beyond the front door. You look over your shoulder with wide eyes and he all but sprints back into the house with an animated expression.
“What? What is it?”
“The lights. They’re visible,” he exclaims. He walks over to the couch, taking your bowl from you and sitting it on the end table next to you before you can process what’s happening. He offers his flesh hand to you in an attempt to help you up.
“Holy shit, really? You better not be messing with me.” You push yourself up off the couch, momentarily forgetting all about your ankle.
“I’m not messing with you,” he snorts. “Come see for yourself.”
Bucky wraps his arm around your waist and you throw yours over his shoulder, helping you walk to the porch without putting too much pressure on your injured foot. You lean into him, his body heat providing a nice reprieve from the night air as you step outside.
You don’t pull away, and neither does he.
Side by side, you stare up at the seemingly endless expanse of swirling rivers of blue and green. The auroral rays seem to dance across the sky, electrifying the night with the shimmering veils of color.
“Wow,” you whisper in awe. Wow doesn’t begin to cover how ethereal the phenomenon is, but you’re at a loss for words. It’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.
You're acutely aware of the bitter chill of the cold wind. If it weren't for the fact that Bucky feels like a personal space heater, your teeth would be chattering. But with the view before you, you find it hard to care.
“I’d give anything to be able to see this where we live,” you breathe. You glance up at him to find him already looking at you.
“Wouldn't you?” You ask him.
“I really would.”
Present Day
“Oooh,” Natasha coos beside you, snapping you out of your memory. “A northern lights projector. I wonder who that could be from.”
You can tell by her tone of voice that she knows exactly who it’s from – even if you hadn't blatantly told her about seeing the northern lights on your mission with Bucky last month, she's too smart to not be able to figure it out herself.
You playfully elbow her in the side, silencing her teasing but the smirk on her face remains.
“Thank you, Santa,” you say with a glance at Bucky. “I love it.”
The rest of your friends open their presents one by one. You try your hardest to pay attention, but all you can think about is how perfect you think the gift that Bucky picked out for you is. He could have just given you a gift card, or a generic gag gift, but what he gave you is personal, and sentimental, and thoughtful.
When all of the Christmas morning festivities have come to an end, you retreat back to your bedroom with your presents. Despite getting many great gifts from your friends, the one from your Secret Santa is by far your favorite.
You unbox the projector and set it up on your nightstand before plugging it in. As soon as you press the power button, the ceiling of your room is covered in shades of blue and green that mimic the natural hues of the northern lights that you had witnessed first hand just a month prior.
You flick your light switch off, making it easier to envision yourself standing under the Alaska sky. Of course, there’s nothing like seeing the real thing, but it’s still pretty, and the meaning behind the gift is what makes you happier than anything.
Smiling to yourself beneath the undulating ribbons of turquoise and emerald, you can’t help but replay the memory of standing under the aurora with Bucky.
How he got so excited when he went outside and realized the lights were visible, the contrast of his warm body against the cold night air as he helped you stand on your hurt foot, and the way that he was smiling at you instead of taking in the scene before him –
Your phone chimes from your back pocket, drawing you back to reality.
A projection probably doesn’t really compare to the real thing, huh?
You smile at your phone, sitting down on your bed. You think of how you should respond when you remember the present you bought for Bucky that sits in your closet.
Come and see for yourself, you respond.
With his room being just a short distance down the hallway, it’s only a few moments before you hear a soft knock against your door.
“Come in,” you say softly.
You’re suddenly overcome with a wave of nerves, and you tell yourself it’s because you’re antsy about giving him the present you'd picked out for him.
Bucky eases into the room, closing the door behind him. He takes in the display across your ceiling with his hands shoved in his pockets – a nervous habit of his that you’ve noticed many times before, though you can’t pinpoint why he’d be nervous right now.
“Pretty cool,” he admits. He takes a seat in front of you on the edge of your bed and finally meets your gaze. “Can’t say it quite compares to the real thing, but at least it’s a whole lot warmer here.”
“The food is considerably better here, too,” you joke. “But really, thank you. It’s definitely the best Secret Santa gift I’ve ever received,” you add, cringing when you remember the toilet shaped coffee mug that Sam had gotten you two years ago.
You use it regularly, of course. But you like Bucky’s gift far more.
“And I got you a present, too,” you add in a small voice before you can chicken out. “I know I wasn’t your Secret Santa, so I hope you don’t think it’s weird. It’s okay if you don’t like—”
“Can I tell you something?” He interrupts you. He’s grinning big – the kind of grin that brings out the lines around his eyes. You snap your mouth shut and answer with a quick nod.
“I wasn’t your Secret Santa originally,” he sighs. “Natasha was. But I convinced her to switch names with me.”
“But why—”
“I got your present as soon as we got back from Alaska, but then I started overthinking it… just thought it would be easier to give it to you if I had the excuse of being your Secret Santa,” he shrugs.
You’re momentarily stunned. It dawns on you – he’d been worried about the exact thing you had. You’d been so worried about him being weirded out by you getting him a gift that you waited until you were alone to give it to him, and he’d been so worried about getting you a gift that he convinced someone else to let him have your name in Secret Santa.
How silly of both of you, you think.
He sits by you on your bed, waiting for your response with a patient, albeit uncertain expression. Your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips.
It had been a fleeting thought when you stared into his eyes under the colorful Alaskan sky – how beautiful it would be to kiss someone under such a serene and mesmerizing sky. How beautiful it would be to kiss him, here. It was a thought that you shoved down, out of fear for crossing a line and making yourself look like an idiot.
It's a thought that is once again at the forefront of your mind, sitting beside him in your bedroom under the imitation aurora.
Under the true northern lights, or under your bedroom ceiling in New York – it doesn’t matter. You think kissing him would be beautiful anywhere.
And so you do.
Or he does – you’re not actually sure who leans forward first. But you are sure that he still tastes faintly of maple syrup and coffee from breakfast, and that when he cups your face in his flesh hand and tilts it to give him a better angle to sweep his tongue along your bottom lip, your brain turns to static white noise.
You let him set the pace – it’s slow and soft, like he’s trying to memorize the map that his tongue draws inside your mouth. You place one of your hands on the back of his neck, intertwining your fingers in the short tufts of hair.
Still holding your face in his hand, he pulls away with a gentle tug of your bottom lip between his teeth and looks at you in the blue-green glow of the projector’s illumination.
“Was that my present?” he smiles, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You laugh, reeling in the afterglow of the kiss.
You drop your hand from his neck, and hold up a singular finger to him, indicating for him to give you a moment. You walk over to your closet, retrieving the large gift bag containing the phonograph.
When you walk back over to your bed, you turn on your bedside table lamp for a bit more light before handing him the bag.
He smiles, blushing faintly as he pulls the tissue paper out of the gift bag. He eases the package out of the bag slowly, as if he’s scared the contents will break. You watch as he takes his time with the unboxing, now feeling a fresh wave of nervousness at the anticipation of him seeing the gift.
His smile only grows once he realizes what it is.
“My ma used to have one just like this,” he murmurs in awe. He grabs your hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Thank you. It's perfect.”
He turns to place it behind him on your mattress before pulling your face to his once more. It’s shorter than the kiss before, but just as tender and sweet.
“But just so you know, you could have just given me a kiss, and I would’ve been just as thrilled.”
••••••
thanks for reading!! i had fun writing this cute little piece ♡
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes one-shot#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#christmas fic#fluff#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x fem reader
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ it's a gift (you keep those) ]❜
ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel
╰₊✧ giving him a plushie that reminded you of him┊1k words
setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, crushes, probably ooc but he’s so cute & wade is hard to write for, written for dp&w logan so idk if he got gifts in xmen, i forgot about laura, they are in touch and have a wonderful father-daughter relationship, i’m so sorry, edited
➤ author's note: i have so many thoughts but too incompetent to write
logan’s never sure who will appear when he opens the door as wade’s quite the extrovert, either vanessa or one of his many other friends whom he’s now become somewhat acquainted with, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to meet the familiar eyes of the cute neighbor who lived a few doors down. he nervously scratched the back of his head, suddenly becoming aware of his shabby appearance, “uh, are you looking for wade?”
“no, i was actually looking for you!” god, your smile is so bright, it’s blinding. he normally hates perfume of any sort as it’s so overpowering to his heightened senses, but the one that you wore smelled so lovely like always. is that a new shade of lip gloss you’re wearing? it really suits you. (why on earth is he noticing all of these details out of the blue? he needs to snap out of whatever spell you put on him after being introduced when he first showed up and only interacting in passing since then).
“looking for me?” he repeated, in disbelief, trying his best not to allow his surprise to slip into his voice. considering he isn’t from this dimension and not the most agreeable person to be around, he had no friends of his own yet and hasn’t been visited by anyone since he got here. a beat of panic struck him, thinking that he was in trouble for something and you came to complain. he really couldn’t think of any other reason you were here for him even though you were so cheerful.
you were carrying some shopping bags with you, dropping them on the ground before reaching into one and pulling out a large fuzzy plushie of a gray cat hidden under layers of glittery tissue paper, “i saw this cutie when i went shopping with my friends and thought it looked like you!” you held it out for him to take, looking so proud of the stuffed animal.
he hesitated for a second before accepting it, trying to take in the fact that you were reminded of him in your day-to-day life. it made his heart flutter, and he found himself dumbfounded by the feeling. he was frequently teased by his roomate about his little “crush” on you, claiming that it was oh so obvious and that the sooner he accepted it, the better, but he never realized until now how pathetic he was when it came to you. was the wolverine really getting butterflies like a fucking schoolgirl in his old-ass age? thank god no one was home right now to bully him about it, he would never hear the end of it.
“it does not look like me,” he scoffed playfully after a quick examination.
“no, it definitely does! it’s a big, grumpy kitty—” you took a step closer to hold it with him, pointing at all the similarities you observed, although it was clear you were exaggerating for laughs. “see the little frowny face and ears? it could be your identical twin separated from birth! willy mentioned that you act like a cat most of the time, and i think it fits perfectly!”
the smile he didn’t realize was plastered on his face faltered at the last piece of information, grateful that you didn’t notice. that idiot has been talking about him to you? he might as well forget about any chance of getting with you, because knowing how he yaps without a filter and loves to play matchmaker, you probably think he’s a freak of some sort. “only good things, i hope…”
you giggled, the sweetest sound he ever heard. “of course, he’s really fond of you… well, maybe a bit too fond, but you already know about that!” you opened your mouth to continue the conversation or say something else, but your phone started ringing and you excused yourself, looking a little shy as you grabbed up your bags. “i’ll talk to you later!” you sounded so excited about the prospect of it before leaving, your voice and footsteps becoming fainter as you walked back to your place.
“wait, you didn’t take back the cat—”
“it’s a gift! you keep those!”
“oh… right…”
he lingered for a moment, unable to say much in response since you left in such a rush. when was the last time someone gave him a present? staring at this brand new item, he still couldn’t see the resemblance in any way, but knowing that it was a gift from you gave him a rare feeling of happiness which returned every time he looked at it from then on among his few possessions.
“oh my goodness, what is this adorable thing?!” wade exclaimed when he saw it sitting on the couch where logan slept, picking it up to gawk at before tossing it up in the air and catching it before it hit the floor. “ooh, let me guess, it’s a gift from her, isn’t it?”
the mutant groaned at his mocking tone. “put it down before you ruin it with your grubby hands,” he commanded, snatching it from his grasp (rough enough to make his point clear, but carefully enough not to tear it apart). his roommate didn’t even bother pretending to be offended like he usually would as he was simply overjoyed that his “ship” was coming true. “it doesn’t mean anything, don’t make it weird.”
“it doesn’t mean anything?! how can you say that when it’s going to be the first gift you give to your first child together—”
“first what??”
“nevermind, what are you gonna name it?”
“i have to name it?”
“have you never owned a stuffed animal before? you have to name it! how heartbroken is she going to be when she asks what you named it and you say that you haven’t done that?! she’s gonna think that you don’t value her gifts!” you would think the world was going to end if he didn’t do so if you heard the way he was speaking.
“fine, i’ll name it…” he looked deeply into the toy’s soulless eyes, noting how soft the outer material was against his calloused hand, “... fluffy…”
“that’s such a shitty name—”
“shut the fuck up, it’s been decided.”
#📜. her works#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine#wolverine x reader#hugh jackman#x men#x men x reader#marvel#marvel x reader
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AS GOD IS MY WITNESS I WILL FINISH THIS FUCKING FANFIC OF A FANFIC I SWEAR!!!!!!!
#fanfiction#fanfic#hotd#writing#I’m so proud of myself!#tired as hell though#it’s a fanfic based off my favorite hotd fanfic!#I asked the author for permission and they said it was ok!! 🙌🏽😤
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 10: Treat Me Gently
Summary: You and Price take your relationship to the next level. It might be the best decision you've ever made.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, p in v sex, fingering, oral, first time sex, unprotected(ish) sex, reader has an implant, creampie, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, the author is a bit rusty writing smut.
A/N: It's finally here. It's finally arrived, the moment we've all been waiting for! Uh, yeah, it's mostly badly written smut with just a little plot thrown in there. So...I hope you enjoy!
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
Your attention is pulled from your book as the couch sinks on either side of you, two bodies joining you. You glance up from your book as an arm drapes itself across the back of the couch behind you. Your eyes flicker between Gaz and Johnny, mischievous grins on their faces.
“We heard you have a date this weekend.” Gaz says, leaning in closer.
Your face warms at his words. “Well, I don’t know if I’d call it a date...”
“What are you wearing?” Gaz asks.
“Do ye have anythin’ to wear?” Johnny asks.
Their questions give you pause. The most formal thing you have are jeans and, though you doubt Price would care if you showed up in sweatpants, you would like to have something nice to wear.
“Come on.” Gaz says, slapping your thigh before standing. “We’re going shopping.”
“What?” You glance between him and Johnny as they stand over you.
“Already got permission from Price.” Johnny says. “So come on.” He grabs your hands, lifting you to your feet easily. “Let’s get goin’, kitten.”
Your cheeks warm at the pet name, Johnny’s hand settling on your lower back to steer you from the rec room. You don’t have much of a choice but to follow, grabbing a couple things from your room before you leave the barracks with them to a car parked outside. It’s different from the car you and Price had taken to town last weekend. Of course, they probably all have their own vehicles, or at least a few at their disposal.
“I’m driving.” Gaz says, plucking the keys from Johnny’s hand.
“Aww, ye never let me drive!” Johnny pouts.
“Yeah, because with our luck you’ll traumatize her so badly, she’ll never want to leave again.” Gaz says, opening the driver’s side door.
You can’t help but giggle at the dejected look on Johnny’s face as you get into the back, Johnny muttering the entire way to the passenger side.
“I’m no’ that bad of a driver.” Johnny says, buckling his seatbelt.
“Yeah, but both you and Simon seem to be in agreement that the speed limit is a suggestion, not a law.” Gaz says as he turns on the car. “I’d like to make it there and back in one piece, thank you. Besides, Price would have both our heads if anything happened to our girl on our watch.”
Your cheeks warm as you meet Gaz's gaze through the rear view mirror. Your heart flutters at the look in his eyes, the dedication and protectiveness shining in them.
“I wouldnae let anything happen to ye.” Johnny says, reaching back to squeeze your knee for a moment.
You stare out the window of the car as Gaz drives towards town, half listening to the conversation in the front seat. You're beginning to recognize landmarks, buildings, areas between the base and town despite it only being your second trip. They'd be proud of you, you think. At least if something happened, you'd be able to give a landmark.
The farmlands fade into the city and soon Gaz is parking on the street in front of a shop. You take Gaz's hand as he helps you out of the car, lacing your fingers together. Soap holds the door to the shop open, letting you and Gaz walk through first.
It's a nice boutique filled with all sorts of formal wear. You wonder how they even knew about this place, or if they had done some research beforehand. Both make you feel honored that they would even go to those lengths just for you.
They are going to be your pack soon.
Packs do this sort of thing for each other. They take care of each other, spoil each other, make each other happy. It’s hard to be a good pack if one member is unhappy.
“Good afternoon.” One of the workers approaches you. “My name is Emily. Is there something I can help you find today?”
“Our omega has a date with our alpha this weekend.” Gaz says, smiling down at you. “She needs something to wear.”
The worker, Emily, smiles at you. “How exciting! Did you have anything in mind? Style, color, anything like that?”
“Probably nothing too fancy,” You say, eyeing the racks. “And, probably a dress.”
“Alright, we've got lots of options for that. Let's take a look and you can try some on.” Emily says.
Gaz keeps hold of your hand as you follow Emily through the racks, looking at some of the options. Johnny goes off on his own, perusing the racks himself.
“Is there a certain color you have in mind?” Emily asks you.
You hum in contemplation, looking at the many racks. You're not sure what color Price would like, or if he even has a favorite.
“His favorite color is blue, like a dark navy blue.” Johnny answers for you. “Though, I think he'd like you in any color.”
You can't help the way your cheeks warm a bit at Johnny's words. You realize you don't even know their favorite colors. There's still so much about them that's a mystery to you.
“What's your favorite color?” You ask, looking up at Gaz.
“I don't think I have just one.” He says, running his hand over a sequin covered dress on the rack in front of you “I like warm colors. Reds, oranges, purples.”
“Like a sunset.” You say, looking at a tag on one of the dresses, nearly choking at the price.
Gaz gently removes the tag from your hand, giving you a look as you meet his gaze. “Don't even worry about it, love.” He says quietly, leaning down to kiss your cheek.
“My favorite color is green.” Johnny says, appearing next to you suddenly.
“Let me guess, Ghost’s is black.” You say.
Johnny's mouth twitches. “Now how'd you come to guess that?”
You shrug, unable to hide your grin. “Call it intuition.”
Emily takes you to the changing rooms, the boys taking seats outside to wait for you to try on the dresses you've chosen so far. You pick a sleeveless, blue, knee-length dress first with a ruched skirt. You already don't like it, but you know the guys will want to see it regardless.
You feel nervous, strangely exposed as you step out of the dressing room and make your way to where the guys are sitting. They both straighten up as you approach, Johnny’s eyes immediately on your legs. Gaz let's out a low whistle as his eyes scan your figure, ending on your legs as well.
“What?” You ask concerned as you stare down at your own legs thinking the worst, like how you might have missed a spot shaving or something.
“Nothin’ love,” Gaz says, unable to lift his gaze from your legs. “Just never seen you in anything but long pants before.”
Your cheeks warm at his words. It's true, the climate had yet to allow for anything but long pants. Even to sleep, you found yourself too cold without long sleep pants.
“Christ, you've got gorgeous legs, kitten.” Soap says, letting his eyes trail your form. “Keepin’ those hidden from us?”
Your face feels like it's on fire as they stare at you, and quickly turn to face the large mirror across from them in an attempt to steady the butterflies in your stomach.
“What do you think?” Emily asks, stepping up next to you.
“It's a little too...churchy for a date.” You say smoothing your hands over the skirt. “Definitely need something fancier than this.”
You try on a few of the others, but none of them are right. Too short, too long, too formal, not formal enough. Johnny brings you more to try, a couple sticking out, but you're not sold on any of them.
The last dress you have yet to try on catches your eye as you pull it off the hook. It's a deep blue color, almost black. It's long sleeved and covers your front entirely, but the back is open. It's short, the skirt hem long enough to cover your ass, but you wouldn't dare bend over. It hugs your figure, accentuating the curves and lines of your body.
Your cheeks are warm as you step out of the changing room, both Gaz and Johnny going slack-jawed as they stare at you. Even Emily looks in awe as you stand in front of them.
“I think you've found the one, love.” Gaz says, his eyes trailing your form. “Give us a spin.”
You do a slow turn, not missing the way their eyes widen in the mirror when they see the back, Johnny still frozen as you turn back to face them.
“How do you feel?” Emily asks, stepping up to you.
“Good.” You say, your face still warm. “Really good.”
“Yeah,” She says, looking you over. “I think you've hit the mark with this one. Let me grab shoes and we'll put the whole look together.”
You turn to face the mirror as she steps away, your eyes meeting Gaz's as he steps up to you.
“You look fantastic, love.” He says, leaning in close over your shoulder, his breath fanning your ear. Goosebumps form on your skin as his fingers slowly trail up the line of your spine. “Price is going to want to devour you instantly as soon as he sees you in this one.”
You shiver at his words, biting your lip as his fingers splay out across your upper back. “You think so?”
There's a mischievous glint in his eyes as he holds your gaze through the mirror. “He won't be able to keep his hands off you. Gonna drive him insane, making him sit through dinner looking like a delicious dessert.”
You fear you might start smoking from how warm you feel, glad for Emily's reappearance. You try on the shoes she brings, opting for the shorter heels for the sake of your own dignity.
Johnny distracts you as Gaz pays for the items, spending far too much on you but neither will let you complain. It's what they're supposed to do.
They are your pack after all.
“What about lingerie?” Johnny asks, turning to look at you as you sit in the car.
Your face burns at his question. You hadn't thought about that bit.
“Gotta dress up the whole fit.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.
“Lay off her, perv.” Gaz says, smacking Johnny's chest. “He's right though, gotta make sure the whole outfit matches.”
You feel like you might implode in the backseat. You might not make it to Saturday at this rate.
You wake early on Saturday. You don't have to be up early. There's nothing going on until tonight, no need for you to rise earlier than the sun. Yet, you can't help the anticipation burning in your stomach, the nervous fluttering in your chest. Tonight you're going to sleep with Price for the first time. Tonight you'll allow him closer than you've ever allowed anyone.
You have an outfit, you have fancy underwear, even new shoes. You're not sure how you want to wear your hair. You're not sure on makeup either, though Price has seen you plenty without it and has yet to offer any complaints.
You grab your phone, laying in bed and scrolling hair tutorials until the sun comes up and you start hearing movement in the hallway. You don’t bother changing, pulling on shoes before stepping out. You are hungry, even after spending half the day in town and eating dinner out with Gaz and Johnny yesterday. You slip out the door, coming face to face with Ghost. You tilt your head back, staring up at him.
“Didn’t expect to see you.” He grumbles. “Figured you’d be busy getting ready.”
“I’ve got like ten hours until I have to be ready.” You say, blinking up at him. “It doesn’t take that long.”
He lets out a huff, rolling his eyes. “Come on.”
You follow him out of the barracks, but you find yourself not having to speed walk quite as fast to keep up with him today.
“Are you upset?” You ask, kicking up your pace a bit so you can walk side by side with him.
“About what?” He asks.
“Price and I.” You say.
“Why would I be?” He sounds genuinely baffled that you’re asking him.
You shrug. “You’re an alpha in the pack too, and I didn’t really ask anyone but Price.”
“Price is your alpha.” He says, as if it’s the most straightforward thing in the world. He’s not wrong, Price is the only one that really matters when it comes to you, since he’s the pack alpha, and he’ll be the one claiming you.
“Would you ever want to be?” You ask, looking up at him.
He meets your gaze as he opens the door to the mess, not answering as you slip into the hall. He stands closer to you than he normally does as you get in line for food, tailing you like a shadow as you find Johnny among the drowsy and hungover soldiers in the mess.
You take a seat across from him, Ghost taking his spot next to Johnny. You can feel the nerves beginning to take hold as you eat, thinking about your date tonight. It’s not like you really have to impress Price much, though you suppose you could make him dislike you rather easily. You’d rather avoid that situation, as there’s no getting out of mating and being claimed by him. You’re going to be part of his pack whether he likes you or not.
What if he finds you boring? You’re not even sure what you could talk about. It’s not like you do much, and he already knows most everything he can about you. The only thing you have to talk about are things you’d rather not discuss during your first date. You’d prefer not to discuss them at all.
“You’ll be fine.” Johnny says as you walk back to the barracks. “Just get ‘im talking, and ye won’t need tae worry about gettin’ a word in yourself.”
Johnny’s words do make you giggle. You’re sure Price has so much more to talk about than you do. You barely know anything about him in general.
It’s ironic that you’re more nervous about dinner than you are about the fact Price is going to take your virginity tonight.
You did ask for this. It’ll be good, getting to know him before your heat starts. The idea of going through your heat with a virtual stranger is terrifying to you, and Price had so willingly offered to do this so that doesn’t happen, so you feel more comfortable with being mated and claimed by someone you at least somewhat know. This is your chance to get to know your pack alpha, your alpha before you’re forced to. This is your chance to make your own decision, to have some control over a life that’s been dictated for you this far.
You spend the morning in a nervous panic, looking up tips online, tutorials, possible questions he might ask and thinking up answers that will make you sound interesting at least. Answers that won’t just be parroting things that he already knows. Gaz brings you lunch, letting you continue to prepare for your date, knowing the chances of you having a breakdown if you’re forced around people are high right now.
You give yourself ample time to get ready, showering and moisturizing, making sure you smell clean and look nice. You do your hair, taking your time to make yourself look decent. You opt for minimal make up, wanting to make yourself seem like you at least put a little effort into your looks.
You're strapping on your shoes when the knock comes at the door. Six o'clock sharp, just as you expected. You take a deep breath, adjusting your dress before you open the door.
John is standing on the other side, dressed in a button up shirt and slacks. You look him over, the fresh scent of cologne reaching your nose. His eyes rake your form, his scent slipping through the cologne as his gaze darkens a bit. Gaz was right. He does look like he wants to devour you.
“You clean up nicely.” You say, looking him over again. His shirt hugs his muscles nicely, his pants obviously tailored to fit him. You haven't seen him in anything but fatigues and civilian clothes so far.
“Was going to say the same to you.” He says, lips pulling up into a smile. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”
Your cheeks warm at the compliment. “Thank you.”
“Hungry?” He asks, offering you an arm.
“Always.” You say, taking his arm, letting him lead you towards the rec room.
The lights inside are dimmed, the table usually reserved for games set up with a tablecloth and candles, along with two plates covered with cloches, and a bottle of wine. You're not sure when he managed to procure the wine, or maybe he had it saved and decided this was as good a time as any.
“Wow.” You say, impressed by the effort he obviously put into everything.
“I bribed the boys out of here for a few hours.” He says, leading you to the table. “Wasn't easy.”
“I bet.” You say, sitting down in one of the chairs, letting him push it in for you.
He pours you both glasses of wine before taking the cloches off the plates. You blink in surprise at the meal on the plate. Spaghetti, a salad, and bread. It's so simple, yet it takes you right back to weeknight dinners at home.
“You made this?” You ask as he takes the seat across from you.
He nods. “I've amassed many skills over the years. I'm no five star chef, but I can throw things together in a pinch.”
“Well it looks good.” You say, picking up your fork.
It tastes good too. It's so simple, yet it's one of the best things you've eaten in the last month. You miss a lot of things about America, and the food is starting to be one of those.
You and John make small talk as you eat, the wine warming your body and easing your nerves.
“How long has it been,” You ask him as you clear your plate. “Since you were with an omega last?”
“Two years.” He says, taking a sip of wine.
Your eyes widen in surprise. You know they've been with omegas in the past, taking advantage of barrack bunnies and the swaths of willing omegas you know populate near military bases. You just hadn't thought it would be that far back in the past.
“Right around the time the task force was created.” He continues. “We were too busy bonding and working on the task force, by the time we had a moment long enough for anything like that, we didn't need them anymore.”
“That must have been torture.” You say, staring at him wide eyed.
“We're trained for that sort of thing.” He says with a smile. “How to fight off those urges, those needs. When you're in the field, something like that could get you killed. You don't pass selection into the SAS until you can show mastery over those skills.”
“Damn.” You say, taking a sip of your wine. “Still, it couldn't have been easy.”
“It can be hard, once you've been with an omega, to go without. But that's just part of the job.”
“Well, I suppose that's partly why I'm here.” You say, huffing out a laugh.
“Perhaps.” He says. “I'm certain we're not getting the full story.”
The double meaning isn't lost on you. There's a lot they don't know about you, things that are safer buried deep where they can't hurt anyone. Things you'd like to keep buried for the rest of time.
“It’s nothing...bad is it?” You ask, searching his gaze.
“I’d like to think not,” He says.
But...
You don’t need to hear him say it. You know it’s there, lingering at the end of that statement. You wonder how many times he’s been in these situations, forced to place blind trust in someone and hope they have the best intentions in mind. You’re all too familiar with those sorts of situations. Putting blind trust in strangers was your life purpose as soon as you presented as an omega.
“We’re not going to let anything happen to you.” He says, staring at you with such conviction you can’t help but believe him. “You’re part of our pack, which makes you part of this team, even if bureaucracy says otherwise. We take care of each other, and that includes you. You’re our omega, regardless of whatever the endgame is for this initiative.”
You feel almost breathless at his words, at his declaration of loyalty to you. You know how much loyalty means to someone like him, the kind of promise words like that uphold. They’d give their lives to defend you. You’d fight to defend them too, if it came down to it. Not that you could do much, but you’d try.
“You’re my omega.” John says, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. “I take care of what's mine.”
You nod, trying to fight the tears welling in your eyes. “I know. You've...you've been a better alpha than I could have ever hoped for. Despite everything you've been kind and caring and understanding. I know some things we learned at the institute weren’t right, but...I was expecting a lot worse.”
His thumb draws circles on the back of your hand, his fingers gently squeezing yours. “I'm glad I could prove that wrong. I know this situation is weird and less than ideal, but I fear I'll have to tell Kate she was right. She did pick a good omega.”
You smile, preening a bit under his praise. “That’s all I can try to be.”
“You can be so much more than that.” He says, lifting your hand to his lips. His beard tickles your skin as he presses a line of kisses across the back of your hand before turning it, kissing across your palm to your wrist. He presses his nose against the skin there, inhaling deeply. “You’re sure, about tonight?”
Your fingers brush his cheek as he holds your hand against his face. Your heart is thudding your throat at the proximity, those nervous flutters starting in your stomach again. He’s giving you an out, a chance to take back what you had asked for. You know he wouldn’t blame you. He was more than willing to wait for your heat to start, for when you had no choice, when it would mean less because you would be desperate and needy for him.
You don’t want that, though. You want him to want you before his instincts tell him he does. You want to know he’s not just fulfilling a duty, scratching an itch that’s been tickling him for two years now. You want him to want you as you are now. You want him to choose you.
“Yes.” You say, pressing your palm flat against his cheek. “Just...be gentle with me?”
“Of course.” He says, kissing your palm again. “You change your mind at any time, you tell me, yeah?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
“Good.” He takes your hand in his again, standing from his seat.
Nerves mix with excitement as he pulls you to your feet with him, stepping up close to you. His hand lifts, tilting your chin up. Your stomach flutters as you meet his gaze, his eyes warm and soft as he stares at you. Affection shines in them as his thumb brushes your lip before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to yours.
The kiss is short and sweet, like the ones you’ve shared with him before. Yet, at the same time it feels different. There’s warmth beginning to blossom under your skin, the kiss not just a simple sign of affection this time. It’s the overture, the appetizer, just a teasing taste of what’s to come.
You hold his hand as he leads you down the hallway, heels clacking on the tile floor. It makes your face warm, the thought that they all know what it means, they can hear it and they know what’s about to happen. They know where you’re going, what you’re about to do.
John opens his door, motioning for you to enter. You haven’t been in any of their rooms yet, you haven’t invaded their own sacred spaces. Your steps are slow and cautious as you breach that barrier, John’s scent washing over you as you step into his room.
It’s neat and tidy, just as you expected it would be. It’s not laid out all that differently from your own, though perhaps a bit more organized and clinical than yours. There’s a shelf next to his nightstand, stuffed with books and what you can assume are souvenirs from places he’s been. There’s stacks of papers on the desk, his clothes and shoes tucked away neatly in their places. His bed is slightly bigger than yours, and you wonder if that’s a perk of his status, or if he pulled some strings once he learned he was getting an omega.
The door clicking shut draws your attention back to John, the click of the handle a finality. You’re doing this. There’s no going back now.
Not that you want to.
John steps up to you, staring down at you. You stare up into his eyes as his hand comes to rest on your waist, his touch hot through the thin fabric of your dress. “You’re sure you want to do this?” He asks, voice rumbling in his chest.
You nod, your hands slowly sliding up his arms, feeling the muscle hidden beneath his dress shirt. “Yes.”
His lips meet yours, beard tickling your skin as he kisses you. You let him lead, leaning into him as he pulls you closer against his chest. He’s so warm, so firm under your hands as you grip his shoulders. His hand slides from your hip to your back, a gasp parting your lips as his calloused fingers touch the bare skin of your back. Goosebumps raise on your skin, a shiver running down your spine at his touch. He tilts his head, taking advantage of your parted lips to slip his tongue into your mouth.
He tastes like wine, a quiet sound leaving your throat as he pulls you tighter against him, pressing your body into his. You can feel all of him, the hard ridges, the strength in his body as he cages you in his arms. Your head is spinning, intoxicated purely by the smell and taste of him.
Something rumbles deep in his chest, your entire body shivering in response. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, your hips pressed flush against his. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach. You’ve been able to smell the musky tinge of arousal in his scent all evening, and you wonder how long he’s been hard. Has it been since he saw you? Or has he been thinking about this all day?
The thought thrills you, makes your omega preen in the back of your mind. You did this. Your alpha is all worked up because of you.
A whimper leaves your lips as his hand slips lower, smoothing over the curve of your ass. He mumbles a curse against your lips before they blaze a path down the line of your jaw to your neck. You tilt your head, bearing your throat for him. A low rumble of approval vibrates through his chest, his hand squeezing your ass. The sound has your omega practically belly up, the dampness between your thighs intensifying as your scent gets heavier in the air.
John groans against your throat, teeth nipping at your neck just over your scent gland. “Such a good girl for me.” He groans, his hand on your ass guiding your hips to grind against his. “Such a good omega.”
You whine at the praise, hands blindly sliding down his chest to pull at the buttons of his shirt. Your fingers are trembling slightly from excitement, fumbling as you attempt to get his shirt off. You need to feel him, his skin against yours, the warmth of him pressed against you.
“Easy pup.” His voice rumbles against your throat, teeth nipping at the delicate skin before he pulls back, hands taking over to strip him of his button up and undershirt.
You lick your lips as his skin is revealed to you, your hand automatically lifting to touch him. You hesitate for a half a second but he makes no move to stop you. Your eyes trail over his form, over the many, many scars that decorate his skin like some kind of macabre painting. Lines and jagged slices, the telltale star shaped marks of bullet wounds. Cuts and nicks from knives or bullets, you can’t tell the difference.
Your fingers settle on a rather large scar on his side, starting at the base of his ribs and curling around his side. It’s an old scar, but the skin is still rough and uneven. Whatever had caused it, it took a chunk out of him. You don’t want to think about it, about how every scar could have been a close call. How many times he’s been on the brink of death.
“I’ll tell you about them later.” He says, taking your hand in his and lifting it to his lips. He kisses your fingertips, his beard tickling your skin. “Tonight is about you.”
He pulls you close again, leaning down to press his lips to yours. His hands are warm against your back as he wraps himself around you again, trapping your hands against his bare chest. Your nails dig into his skin as his hands sink lower, grabbing handfuls of your ass. He groans, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip. He presses you backwards, and you trust him to guide you until your legs hit the side of his bed.
“Gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?” He growls, his voice rough around the edges as his alpha slips through.
“Yes, alpha!” You gasp against his lips, your head tilting back in submission.
“Always such a good omega for me.” He praises you, teeth nipping at your throat. “Good omegas kneel for their alphas.” He says, pushing you backwards so you plop down on his bed. “But a good alpha,” He slowly lowers himself before you, dropping to one knee, then the other as his hands wrap around your ankles. “Kneels for his omega.”
Your face warms as you stare down at him, unable to do anything but watch as his hands make quick work of your shoes, setting them neatly beside the bed. His skin is rough against yours as his hands drag up your legs, slowly parting them. He moves himself closer, kneeling between your parted thighs. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he reaches up, pushing on your stomach until you're laying flat on his bed. He can see up your skirt now, and you're silently glad for the lacy panties Johnny had insisted on.
“Do you trust me?” His lips brush your inner thigh as his hands pause just at the hem of your skirt where it's ridden up almost to your hips.
“Yes, alpha.” You say, lifting your head to stare down at him.
He meets your gaze as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his hands continuing to press upwards until your dress is hiked around your waist. Your heart is fluttering rapidly in your chest as you stare down at him, his gaze leaving your eyes to stare at the soaked lace barely covering your most private parts.
His hands leave your hips to curl around the lace, giving it a sharp tug. The fabric snaps easily, the shreds falling to the floor. Your lip part as you stare at him in shock.
“I'll buy you a new pair.” He says, his hands gripping your thighs to pull them further apart.
The cool air in the room hits your slicked folds, making you shudder. He's barely touched you and already you can feel how slick you are. His lips press against your inner thigh again, blazing a path upwards. His gaze meets yours again as his hands shift to grip your hips, adjusting your position on the bed before he leans in, dragging his tongue through your folds.
You gasp at the foreign sensation, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders. His mouth is warm as it closes over your pussy, his tongue licking another slow stripe up your folds until he reaches the spot that has your inhale turning into a gasp.
He focuses his attention there, dragging slow lines across your clit with his tongue. You let your arms give out, laying flat on the bed again. Little whimpers leave your lips as he teases your clit, your thighs already trembling. It’s been so long since you’ve touched yourself. Not since before you left the institute four months ago.
You don’t last very long.
Your thighs squeeze around his shoulders as your orgasm is ripped from you suddenly. You let out a cry that’s probably too loud, but you don’t care who could have heard you as your back arches off the bed, pressing your hips closer to John’s face. His hands hold your thighs, keeping you still as his tongue continues to tease your clit, working you through your orgasm.
It’s not until you’re writhing in his grasp, letting out little whimpers that he relents, lifting his face from between your thighs. His beard is shiny with your juices, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. It’s obscene and yet, it has heat pulsing straight between your legs again. He lets out a chuckle, the scent of your arousal washing over him.
“Fuckin sweet as sugar, love.” He says as he pushes himself up from between your legs, his body folding over yours on the bed.
His face presses into your neck, inhaling deeply. Your pussy flutters at the thought of him claiming you now, sinking his teeth into your skin to mark you as his forever. He could. It would be so easy for him to do it. His tongue laves over the skin covering your scent gland, a shiver running through you. Your arms wrap around him, holding him against you as your scents mingle, musky with arousal.
“Alpha...” You whine, your hips pressing up against the bulge in his pants. He’s fully hard now, the fabric of his pants providing delicious friction against your folds.
He shushes you, pressing a kiss to your throat before he pushes himself up over you. “Soon, love.” He says, moving until he’s standing in front of you. “Think you’re a bit overdressed still.”
Your eyes dart down to his pants. “So are you.”
He smirks, his hands dropping to your waist, slowly pushing your dress up higher. You let him slip it over your head, lifting your arms to help him. You’re bare before him, warmth spreading through your veins as he stares down at you. Your hands lift, coming to rest on his thighs. You can feel the muscle through the fabric, the strength of him beneath your hands. How easily he could take control, pin you down and take what he wants with little regard for you or your pleasure. How easily he could hurt you, snap your bones like they’re toothpicks, bruise and batter your body without even straining a muscle.
Yet he stands here, patiently watching as your hands move closer and closer to the prominent bulge in his fitted pants. He doesn’t even twitch as your hand cups his hard length, your breath stuttering at the sheer size of him. He’s big like most alphas are, or so you’ve heard.
His eyes stare into you as you undo his belt, popping the button on his pants open. He finally moves as you pull down the zipper, helping you tug his pants and briefs down. His cock stands at attention, almost as stiff as he is. You stare at his veiny cock with wide eyes, the tip flushed almost red with how hard he is.
“Christ.” You breathe, staring at him in awe.
You did that.
“Easy, love.” He says, leaning down to wrap an arm around your waist. “I said tonight was about you.”
He moves you so you’re laid out on the bed, your head hitting his pillow. The scent of him floods your nose as he joins you on the bed, the frame creaking as he kneels between your legs. Nerves twist in your stomach as you continue to stare at his cock bobbing between his thighs as he runs his hands along your legs. It’s going to hurt, you know that. It suddenly seems daunting, this request. At least during your heat you’d be so out of it with need you wouldn’t really feel anything. And you’d have plenty of slick to help.
“None of that.” He says, squeezing your thighs gently. “I told you I’d take care of you.”
You nod, swallowing thickly.
“We’ve got more work to do before we reach that point. I’m not just going to stuff my cock into you like some needy pup.” He stares at you. “You tell me and I’ll stop, alright?”
You nod again. “Yes, alpha.”
Your breath hitches as his hands reach the junction of your thighs, one moving to your stomach, the other dragging through your folds, gathering your wetness on his fingers. They’re so much thicker than your own, your pussy clenching as he presses against the entrance.
“Relax for me, love.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your stomach with his thumb.
His finger presses into you and your lips part at the intrusion. You clamp tight around his finger, making him groan.
“Easy.” He says, his thumb moving to circle your clit.
A breathy whine leaves your lips as his finger presses deeper into you, reaching further than you ever could. Your hand reaches up to thread through his hair, letting the short cropped strands slide through your fingers. It’s softer than you imagined, though you expect he too had spent the afternoon preparing for tonight as well. The mental image of him lathering himself in moisturizer would have made you laugh if his finger hadn’t brushed against a spot inside you that has your hips lifting off the bed.
He leans down, lips blazing a path up your stomach, between your breasts to your throat. He swallows your moans as he works you open with his fingers, the lewd sound of his fingers thrusting into your wet pussy only adding to the pleasure coursing through you. You can feel it building within you, heat burning through your veins. Price groans against your lips as your nails scratch his scalp, his cock leaking against your thigh. You want him, need him inside of you. You need to feel him, you need to be close to him.
“Alpha, please.” You whimper, tugging at his hair.
He stares down at you, eyes blown with lust. “Please, what?”
“Need you.” You whimper, grinding against his hand. “Please, sir.”
Price closes his eyes, letting out a groan. His cock twitches against your thigh, his fingers slipping from you. He breathes out a curse, shifting to open his nightstand. He pulls out a bottle of lube, sitting back on his knees to squirt some into his hand. You’re plenty slick, but you watch as he rubs the lube on his cock, tossing the bottle back into the open drawer.
He kneels between your thighs again, staring down at you as one of his hands comes to rest on your hip. You feel intoxicated, your head spinning from the intensity of his scent around you and the knowledge of what’s about to happen.
Price folds his body over yours again, the head of his cock brushing your folds. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you, parting your thighs further for him as his tip catches on your opening. Your hands grip his shoulders as he presses into you, the stretch stinging a bit as he works you open. This is it. There’s no going back now.
You don’t want to.
You whimper quietly as he pushes into you, nails biting into his skin. It’s too much, yet you can’t get enough of it as he sinks further in. You let out a shaky breath as he pulls away from your lips staring down at your face.
“Alright?” He asks, stilling where he is.
You nod. “Just need a moment. You’re really big.”
His lips twitch up into a smile, a pleased growl rumbling through his chest. “Don’t start talking like that, love.” He says, leaning down to press kisses to your face.
“Or what?” You ask, your nails digging harder into his skin.
“I might not be able to control myself.” He growls, his alpha slipping out around the edges of his voice.
Your pussy clenches at his words, walls clamping down around him. He lets out another growl, hiking your leg up over his hip. It forces him deeper into you, your breath catching at the feeling of him spreading you open.
“Fuck,” You breathe, rocking your hips to take him even deeper into you.
John’s arms frame your head as he presses his body against yours. Your arms slip around his back, legs locking around his waist as he begins to move slowly, working himself deeper and deeper into you until he’s pressed flush against you. He stills for a moment, pressing his forehead to yours as you both breathe. You’re trembling just slightly, overwhelmed with being so close to him, to your alpha. The pain and discomfort is gone, replaced by burning heat as desire pulses through your veins.
“Please, alpha.” You whimper.
He shushes you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’ve got you, omega.”
Your skin is slick with sweat already as he begins to rock his hips into you. Your hands press into his back, feeling the muscles shift and flex as he moves. It feels good, the friction of your bodies, the way he stretches you open with every thrust. Your head is spinning with pleasure at the thought of being so close to another person, being so connected with someone else.
Not just someone else, with your alpha.
The wet squelch of your pussy as he thrusts into you is loud, the mattress creaking as he picks up speed. You’re trembling, your thighs squeezing around his hips as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. You’re not sure how he’s lasted this long, especially without any sort of release for himself yet tonight.
Perhaps it was the training he spoke about earlier.
You’re not sure how he manages it. You couldn’t have that kind of control. Not after this. Not after knowing how good it can feel, how good he can make you feel.
“Fucking feel so good.” He grunts, his breath fanning her ear. His own skin is slicked with sweat, muscles twitching under her hands. “So fucking tight and warm.”
“John!” You gasp, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades as he picks up the pace even more, his hips snapping against yours.
“Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum like a good omega? Need you to cum for me.” He grunts, staring down at you.
You let out a whine, arching against him as you seek your second high of the night. His cock brushes that spot inside of you, stars nearly erupting behind your eyes.
“Right there.” You gasp, thighs shaking around his hips. “Fuck, right there!”
You’re being loud but you don’t care, nails dragging down his back as he focuses his thrusts right at that spot inside you. You cum with a cry, pussy squeezing around him. He lets out a loud groan, his hips stilling as he twitches inside you. His muscles go lax, his body falling on top of yours. He manages to keep himself from squishing you beneath him, his face pressing against your neck.
The smell of sex, arousal, sweat, and your own combined scents are heavy in the air. You’re shaking, still wrapped tightly around John as he lays on top of you. He’s breathing heavily, warm breaths fanning against your neck. You don’t want to move, your mind buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm still.
“Alright?” He murmurs, lips pressing a gentle kiss against your throat.
You nod, slowly unwinding yourself from around him. “Yeah. ‘M good.”
“Fucking Christ, a man could get addicted to that.” He says, lifting his face from your neck. “Sweet little omega.”
Your face warms more than it already feels, and you lean into his touch as his fingers brush your cheek.
“Let me go get something to clean this mess up with.” He says, pushing himself up so he’s kneeling.
You can’t help but giggle as his joints pop and he lets out a groan at the effort. “Need a break, old man.”
His eyes flash playfully, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Going with the old man insults again, huh?”
You give him a look. “You’re the one grunting while getting up.”
You let out a surprised yelp as he brings his hand down on your thigh, the skin tingling as he gets up. “I’ll show you old man.” He murmurs as he heads for his en suite.
You bite your lip as you begin to feel his release slipping out of you, the feeling causing desire to stir in your stomach once more.
John tsks as he comes back, wiping the mess between your thighs. “Needy little thing.” He practically purrs, stepping away to toss the rag into the bathroom sink before he returns, climbing back onto the bed.
You press as close to him as you can, nuzzling into his neck. Your limbs are still twitching a bit, your mind buzzing from the aftermath of what had just transpired. John wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. You press a gentle kiss to his neck, earning a rumble in response. Your own rumble starts up as you purr contently, tossing a leg over his hip to allow you to get as close to him as possible.
He huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Comfortable?”
You purr louder in response, sleep beginning to fog the corners of your mind.
“Good girl.” He says, pressing another kiss to your head. “Sleep. Alpha’s got you.”
NEXT ->
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#call of duty#call of duty fic#cod fic#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#tf 141 x reader#john price x reader#captain price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#x reader#a/b/o#omegaverse#alpha beta omega dynamics
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── Lagneía
𓍊𓋼𓍊 summary: shanks x f!reader - as the newest member of the red hair pirates, you have a long way to go to prove yourself, not only to your crew mates but your cocky captain as well. Unfortunately, things fall apart after a little excursion and a run-in with a glowing mushroom that has you feeling...hot.
𓍊𓋼𓍊 tags: smut, sex pollen, nsfw, dubcon (it's sex pollen, ya know how it is), MDNI
𓍊𓋼𓍊 wordcount: ~8k
𓍊𓋼𓍊 Read on AO3
𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊
You really did respect your Captain, though you didn’t tend to show it.
Benn Beckman was the one who had recruited you when he stumbled upon you in a gambling hall. You had been using Observation Haki to beat the dealer, racking up thousands in berri. Beckman clocked your underhanded method and cornered you outside the casino. You were nervous that he would report you to the authorities, but as luck would have it, he turned out to be a pirate. He was impressed by your advanced skills in Haki, and the two of you hit it off. Eventually, he brought you to the Red Force and introduced you to Shanks, who did not give the best first impression.
“Who’s the kid?” Shanks questioned, barely looking up from his drink.
He immediately rubbed you the wrong way.
Beckman cleared his throat before you could tear him a new one, “This is Y/N. They’re who I told you about, the one gifted in Observation Haki.”
Shanks finally looked up from his drink, lazily trailing his eyes from your feet, all the way to your face. He finally met your eyes and you struggled to maintain your composure under the immense pressure of his gaze. You lifted your chin, desperate to keep your dignity.
Shanks kept his eyes on yours, his gaze intense as he questioned you, “And why should you be a part of my crew? Have you ever been around pirates or even worked as one? It’s dangerous work. Are you sure you’re ready for this kind of lifestyle, kid?”
“I didn’t come here to be interrogated by some old man,” you bit back quickly.
Shanks put his hand over his heart dramatically, feigning emotional pain.
“Listen, Red Hair, I came here as a favor to Beckman, I don’t have anything to prove to you.” You paused as the hair on the back of your neck stood up, “And if your friend hiding over there even thinks about shooting that spitball at me, I’m walking.”
Beckman looked surprised, but Shanks only smiled. There was a clatter and some swearing before another man with dreadlocks emerged behind nearby ship supplies. “Well, shit. So much for that plan, Captain. Seems like she’s the real deal.” The man then jokingly blew the spitball at Shanks, who to your dismay, easily dodged it.
“Color me impressed.” You look back to see Shanks smiling up at you. “You have a lot of potential. Let’s work hard together, Y/N.”
…
While you didn’t join the Red Hair Pirates for Shanks, you became proud to be part of his crew over time. You had been sailing for around 6 months and were glad to say you had quickly proved your worth. Although there were members with better Haki skills, you knew you were improving every day with each new experience.
You hated to admit it, but your captain occupied much of your thoughts. You often wondered if Shanks knew just how hard you were still trying to prove yourself to him. Though you saw him often, you rarely ever worked with him directly. In fact, you’d barely spoken to one another after your first meeting. You had occasionally exchanged a few words, formalities really, at mealtimes and during duty; but a part of you wished there was more. Though, you would never let him know that.
You always put on a tough face in front of him, using words to bite back and hold your ground against the confident, and often cocky, Emperor of the Sea. Truthfully, after your first meeting you had come to admire him, and were slightly intimidated by the powerful man.
While sailing the Grand Line in the New World, the ship stumbled upon an uninhabited island. It was a warm, tropical island, thick with jungle and vines. Shanks decided that the crew would depart and explore the island for supplies, and Roux hoped to find some edible plants and animals for their stock.
All active members of the crew made groups and departed from the Red Force, but since you were not on shift, you’d decided to sleep in. When you awoke and found the ship docked, you decided it would be fun to explore the island as well. It was better than being cooped up all day in the barracks.
As you stepped down the ladder a cheery familiar voice called down to you, “And where do you think you’re going, kid?”
You jumped at your captain’s voice and looked up to see him. His hand gripped a rigging rope, holding him as he stood on the rail’s ledge, and leaned far off the ship to gaze down at you. His hair fell over his face, but his smile was still visible.
“God, Captain. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Well, I’m just trying to make sure our ship’s hawkeye doesn’t stray too far and get into trouble,” he teased.
“I’m not getting into trouble,” you grumbled as you looked back down to continue your descent onto the sand. “I just wanted to explore the island like everyone else.”
“Alone?” His smile slightly faltered.
“Is there a problem with that?” You ask, confused about where this conversation was going.
“Well, we can’t afford to lose a member with skills like yours. I’ll come with you.”
You reached the bottom of the ladder and looked up at Shanks in shock, “That really isn’t necessary, Captain. I don’t plan on going far-”
“Nonsense. Besides, you’re not much of a fighter, you should have a bodyguard when you go to unfamiliar places. And I have a duty to protect the valuable members of my crew.” As he said this he jumped from the railing and landed next to you.
You did your best to hide how flustered you were, “There are other members with better Observation Haki than I do, you included.”
Shanks tsked at your objection. He looked hard at you and spoke genuinely, “Don’t sell yourself short. I heard about how you helped the snipers take out that marine ship last week. And I heard how you helped guide the navigator through the rocky sea and fog the other day. I’ve only ever heard other crew members praising you.”
You quickly turned away from the red-haired man adjusting the strap on your bag. You knew you couldn’t stop the blush that was forming on your face, so you turned around to start walking into the jungle. “I just do what I’m told, Captain.” You quickly dismissed him, “Are you coming, or what?”
Shanks laughed as he caught up with you, walking ever so slightly behind you. The walk was silent as the two of you marched deeper and deeper into the jungle, occasionally stopping to inspect certain plants or animals or collect samples in your bag. He enjoyed watching you as you took in the new landscape around you. He’d always found it fascinating to watch you while you concentrated. In fact, he had rarely taken his eyes off you since you’d joined his crew.
From the second he met you, he knew you would be interesting. Shanks would be the first to admit he tested you during your first interaction. He purposefully pushed your buttons to see what you were made of. He needed to know how strong your resolve was before he let you, a stranger, onto his ship. And boy, did you meet his expectations, surpassed them even. Your insulting response nearly made him fall for you right then and there. But he knew his place as captain. He couldn’t risk showing special attention, let alone romantic attention to one of his subordinates. It was his job to keep you safe and provide you with a place to hone your abilities. He had to keep his distance.
Yet… here he was, an Emperor of the Sea, trailing behind you like a puppy. He was rightfully worried to see you sneaking off the ship after the assigned explorers already left. He was doing this because it was the captain’s duty to protect his crew. At least, that’s what he told himself.
As you pushed your way deeper through the vines you tried to ignore the fact that Shanks was tailing you. This was just like any other outing with any other crewmate. You felt his eyes on you the entire time as you walked, but you tried not to let it affect your movements. Was he judging you? You felt a little more self-conscious than usual about what you stopped to look at or how you collected samples. Especially when you caught him staring intensely at your hands.
You finally reached a large plateau. Looking up, you examined the wall looming far above your head, and at the base of the formation, there was an illuminated opening.
“Shanks,” you called out to your captain, “there’s a cave over there.”
Shanks shoved some pesky vines out of his face and looked toward where you were pointing. There was a small opening, barely 4 ft tall, and a blueish light was emanating from the abyss. You moved closer to the cave willing your senses to reach out and explain the phenomenon. You couldn’t sense any danger coming from the cave, so it was time to be like a pirate and explore.
“I’m going to go in.” You stated as you dropped your bag to the ground and started making your way to the entrance.
Shanks was quick, definitely not desperate, as he moved forward and grabbed your arm, “Woah! Hold on there. There is no way I can fit in there.” he gestured towards his large stature and again at the tiny entrance.
You considered the situation and shrugged, “Then wait out here. I won't be long, I just want to check out what’s causing the glow.”
Shanks frowned, realizing there was no point in arguing with you. “Alright, but be careful.”
You saluted him with an exaggerated hand on your brow and firmly stated,. “No.”
You turned away from him and focused back on the cave opening.
“Brat.” you heard him mutter under his breath. You turned around quickly, did you hear that right? He had a smile on his face.
You stared at him for a moment, a warm feeling blossoming in your chest. You smiled back before rolling your eyes and descending.
The walls of the cave were rich in color, with layers of lichen growing throughout the chasm. You strained your ears to listen for any unseen threats that could have been lurking beyond your sight, but all you could hear was the rhythmic drip of the cave walls weeping. As you bent and contorted your body to ease your way through the damp walls, you could see the blue light growing in intensity ahead.
Finally, you reached a large pocket of space in the cave, enabling you to stand straight and take in your surroundings. As you stretched out your back you stared in awe at the sight before you.
Dozens upon dozens of glowing mushrooms covered the room, growing across the walls and floor of the cave. The view was nothing short of dazzling, the light blue glow illuminating the space around you like nothing you had ever seen.
You approached the fungus carefully, although they were beautiful, you knew well that not all beautiful things were good. You drew a handkerchief from your pocket and crouched forward to grab a sample.
Suddenly, the hair on the back of your neck stood straight, and your blood chilled. You trusted your instincts and rapidly jerked backwards from the mysterious mushrooms. Unfortunately, you were not fast enough.
The gills of the mushrooms expanded and expelled a great mist of spores. The sickly sweet-smelling mist filled the room instantly and you yelped in surprise, feeling your way out of the room and back into the tunnel. You coughed as you darted through the veins of the cave desperate for fresh air and open spaces. You could hear Shanks calling out to you and you forced yourself to push forward toward his voice.
Shanks was anxious from the moment he heard you cry out. He felt helpless, unable to fit into the cave. He briefly considered blowing a hole through the mountainside to get to you. Thankfully, hearing your panting and clawing as you made your way out of the cave stopped him. He placed his hand above the cave opening and began calling out to you, begging you to keep moving toward him.
Shanks wasn’t prepared for what came out of that cave.
You stumbled out of the suffocating walls and fell onto the grass in front of your captain. You could vaguely hear Shanks, his voice filled with worry, but you barely registered it. Something was wrong. Your clothes felt tight and itchy, you felt your cheeks warm while the rest of your body developed goosebumps from the jungle air hitting your skin. And most troubling, everything from the deepest part of your core felt tight and ticklish.
Shanks knelt down, grabbing your shoulder to lift your gaze to him. The contact between the two of you sent electric shocks to your core. Sitting face to face with your captain you could barely breathe. At this distance, every feature of his face was at your fingertips. You took in your captain's features. The jagged shape of the scars that ran down his face, the prickly stubble he grew across his chin, his eyes bright with worry, the color of his lips… It took you a moment to realize he was talking to you.
“Y/N! Snap out of it! Y/N! What happened in there? What's going on?!”
The seriousness of his tone did not reach you. Why did he look so worried? You wanted him to smile at you like before. You reached up and touched his cheek with the back of your hand. Taken aback by this gesture, Shanks froze for a moment, then grabbed your hand, pressing it to his face harder. “Y/N. I need you to tell me what happened in there. You can do that for me, right?”
Your eyes widened, coming back to your senses you groaned as you tried to move away from Shanks and stand, only to find that your legs were jelly. “Capt’n. What's happening?”
Shanks let out a shaky laugh, “Well that's the million berri question right now, kid. Tell me what happened in the cave so I can help.”
You push your hands into your eyes, struggling to retrieve your memories, “The glow,” you whispered, “The glow in the cave. It was some kinda, I dunno, mushroom. It puffed some dust on’ta me.” you panted your words out.
“Good girl,” Shanks stroked your hair with his hand, “Now tell me, what did this mushroom look like?”
“Was so pretty, just like the sea. Blue and glowing.” You smiled at the memory of the beautiful sight.
While you reminisced on the memory, Shanks froze, overcome with the realization of what he was dealing with.
It happened several years before you joined the Red Hair Pirates. Shanks and Beckman were wasting the night away at some bar when a woman approached him. He had noticed the dark-haired beauty staring at him from across the bar but had paid no attention. It wasn't uncommon for him to get stares as an infamous pirate.
The woman set down a blue sparkling drink in front of Shanks, “Don't think you're from around here, handsome.” She smiled and batted her eyelashes at him, “How about we get to know each other over a couple’a drinks?”
Beckman stifled a snicker and Shanks shot him a glare. Looking back up at the woman, Shanks politely declined her advances, “Sorry, I'm afraid I'm not looking for any more company tonight,” Shanks slapped Beckman hard on the back making him wince, “This fella’s all the entertainment I'll need for the night.”
The woman tried to hide her annoyance with a smile, “Well then, sorry for interrupting.” She sneered as she turned away, “But the drink’s still on me. Do enjoy.”
Shanks and Beckman eyed each other and the drink skeptically. “Poison?” Asked Beckman bluntly.
Shanks let out a hearty laugh, “Well, only one way to find out!” And downed the sickly blue drink in seconds.
Shanks was stuck in his room the rest of the night, fisting his cock and rutting into his mattress. He admitted it wasn't his best decision. Hongo guessed that based on the color he likely ingested an aphrodisiac made from a plant called the lagneía fungi. “I've heard of petty thieves using it on pirates to steal their loot.” Hongo looked at Shanks scornfully, “Can't believe our captain fell for something like that …”
Shanks shook his head refusing to believe the evidence right in front of him. No! It can't be that. He brought his gaze back down at you and examined your face. You were flushed red, your pupils were dilated, and your gaze wandered across his body. He reached out to touch your arm and you gasped, goosebumps exploding from his touch. He really couldn't deny it any longer.
“Alright Y/n, don’t worry. You’re going to be just fine, just try not to panic.” Shanks spoke, trying to reassure the both of them. Despite his words, Shanks himself was panicking. What was he going to do with you? Sure, it's just an aphrodisiac, but truthfully the experience was borderline torture. Furthermore, judging by how quickly its effects were overcoming you, you must have gotten a serious dosage in your system. If you were a male member of his crew he would laugh it off and condemn you to your bunk with a porno mag like he had done for himself. But how could he let you of all people suffer alone like this?
“Am I gonna die? Everything feels weird,” tears pricked at the edge of your eyes, “like I’m on fire.”
“You’re not going to die.” Shanks insisted, “You’re just, going to be… uncomfortable for a little while. Let’s get you back to the ship so you can lie down.” Shanks bent down and grabbed one of your arms to maneuver you onto his back. Hoisting you up, your breath hitched as your center came into contact with Shanks’ back.
Shanks took off at a brisk pace, navigating the rough jungle terrain. You tried to take Shank’s advice to calm yourself, but you were distracted by the friction created between you and Shanks as he strode back to the ship at an agonizing pace. Everywhere you were touching him felt hot and unbearable. You began to feel a familiar sensation brewing in your lower abdomen. No way, there’s no way! You panicked at the feeling and tried to create distance between you and Shanks to alleviate the burning coil between your legs, but he gripped your thigh back, securing you to his back. “Stop squirming, are you trying to fall over?”
“Captain, ugh.” You buried your head in his back, panting from the unintentional pleasure, “Please slow down. Wait, please sto- Ah!” Suddenly the pressure built up to its peak. You squirmed and shook against your Captain’s back, fingers digging into his shoulders, unable to control your movements or your voice. With a final moan and gasp, you pushed yourself backward off of Shanks’ back onto the jungle floor.
Shanks circled back on his heels to find you curled up on the ground, “What are you doin-”
The realization hit him. He noted your shaking legs and rapid breaths and suddenly he became aware of a slightly damp spot on his back where your bodies had just been connected. He grappled with his own arousal seeing you like this, disheveled and glassy-eyed.
“God, Captain. I’m so sorry,” You covered your face with your hands, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I couldn’t stop myself.”
Shanks was kicking himself mentally as he watched you before him. Here you were feeling humiliated, embarrassed, and vulnerable; yet, there he was feeling himself getting hard at the sight. He’d wanted you for so long, wanted to make you his. Shanks licked his lips. He pushed down his indecent thoughts and turned his attention back to you. This wasn’t the time. You needed to get back to the ship, and right now that’s all that mattered.
In one swift movement, he scooped you up, placing a hand under your legs, carrying you in his arm. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into his neck in embarrassment as he took off running. He was fast. You felt the wind on your face as he swiftly maneuvered through the trees at a great speed, his black coat flapping in the wind behind him. It took less than a minute for him to reach the ship. Shanks bounded onto the deck and managed to avoid the eyes of the returning crew. Reaching his room, he quickly ducked in and closed the door behind him, causing maps and papers to fly in all different directions.
Shanks walked with you in his arm over to his bed and laid you down as gently as he could. “Y/N, you need to listen to me,” he slipped his hand through your hair and gripped the back of your neck to force you to look at him. You looked up at him dazed, trying your best to concentrate on what he was telling you rather than the feeling of his hand on your neck. “You’re not dying. Those spores were an aphrodisiac,” He looked at you hard, making sure you understood what he was saying, “That’s why you’re feeling like this.”
You groaned and tried to hide your face out of embarrassment, but Shanks held you firm. “I’m going to get Hongo, he might be able to find some sort of sedative to help you work through this. You might have a shitty night, but I promise you’re going to be alright. I’ll be right back, ok?” He said softly.
Shanks lightly rubbed the back of your neck with his thumb before turning to leave, but you sat up and clutched his shirt to pull him back, “No! Please don’t. Don’t get Hongo.” You buried your head in his shirt, “I don’t want anyone seeing me… like this.”
Shanks’ gaze softened, “Y/N, Hongo is a professional, he’ll definitely be able to help.”
“No...I don’t…I can’t have anyone see me like this, please Captain. I-” your voice cracked, “I worked too hard to gain respect on this ship. Please. Don’t let anyone see me like this.”
Shanks began to disagree, “Hongo really would know the best way to deal with this, Y/N…” he stopped upon seeing the panic in your eyes. He sighed as he relented, “But, I’ll keep this between us for now. If that’s what you really want.”
You breathed a sigh of relief, though it was short lived. The aching between your legs was demanding attention, and you didn’t know how much longer you could restrain yourself from tending to it.
“Y/N.” You looked back up at Shanks, “If you really intend to deal with this on your own, the only way I know you can find relief is to stimulate yourself or… have sex.” Shanks kept your gaze as he spoke. “I’ll leave you my room. At least that way you can have some privacy while you deal with this. I’ll make sure nobody comes in here. You have my word.”
“Captain…” You found it hard to look him in the eye, you knew what you were about to ask wasn’t right, “Please. Don’t leave me.”
Shanks froze, for a moment he was speechless, he waited for you to meet his gaze and searched your eyes, “Y/N, do you really understand what you're asking right now?”
“I-” You doubled back over struggling to compose yourself, gripping Shanks silk sheets. Just imagining sleeping with your captain was enough to make your arousal unbearable. Despite your best judgment you shakily reached down and palmed in-between your legs, exhaling from the slight relief it gave you. You looked back up to Shanks, eyes pleading, “I can barely manage this right now. I can't do this alone. I'm begging you, please Shanks.”
Shanks stared at you, mouth agape and spellbound by the proposition. He could feel his mouth watering and his pants tighten. Shanks remembered just how miserable he had been with just the small dosage he’d taken, so he couldn’t even begin to imagine the turmoil that was currently wrecking your body. He balled his fist gathering the last bit of restraint he had and whispered, “It… wouldn’t be right of me to do this. You’re not in your right mind, you’d take anyone in your condition-”
“No. You’re wrong,” you were breathing heavily, choosing your words carefully, “I couldn’t bear it being anyone else. I want it to be you… Unless,” Your breath hitched, you weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer to the question you were about to ask, “do you not… want me?”
This was the final straw for Shanks. You had broken the great Emperor who’d tried so desperately to do the right thing. His resolve crumbled at your words and he found himself lunging toward you. He pounced over you, throwing you back onto his mattress as his lips crashed onto yours. Your senses exploded with electricity by his contact and you moaned into his mouth, eagerly accepting more. It was utterly overwhelming and you couldn't control the noises that escaped from your mouth as Shanks pushed your hand away to tend to your clit himself, shoving his hand down your pants.
Shanks briefly separated your lips and breathed heavily trailing kisses along your cheek and to your forehead, “I’ll ask you… one more time,” he muttered between pecks, “Are you sure about this?” He pulled back to meet your eyes.
“Old man,” you huffed at him, “Won’t you shut up and put your mouth to good use for onc-”
Shanks didn’t let you finish your sentence and forced your mouth wider to deepen your kiss as he worked to slip your pants off. Once they were off you spread your legs obediently for him, pushing your hips against his hand for more friction. With your pants out of the way, Shanks had more freedom to explore your folds. His thumb kept a steady rhythm on your bud as his other fingers dove lower. He smiled as he found how soaked you were for him. He gathered copious amounts of slick from your pussy, and used it to tease you further. Shanks moved his mouth down your neck, leaving dark spots where he sucked and teased.
You could already feel that you were close to climax, you squirmed and whined for more. Shanks relented to your obvious request and slipped two fingers inside you. The gratifying release was instantaneous. You gripped Shanks’ arm as he massaged your walls through your orgasm. He reveled at just how seductive your body was and how your pussy gripped his fingers tightly.
Shanks lifted his head out from the crook of your neck and glanced over to you, but you were worlds away. His whole body reacted when he finally saw you in shambles from his touch. Tears streamed down your reddened face, unable to concentrate on anything besides how good you felt, you just focused on trying to catch your breath. It was all so overwhelming, Shanks’ touch, his kisses, and his scent all around you.
Shanks’ breath hitched as he let out a snide laugh, “Well, I guess that’s one way to shut you up, brat.”
Shanks pulled away from you for a moment and the sudden loss of contact made you whimper. Shanks scolded you, “Quiet now, it’s not good to be impatient, Y/N.” Shanks teased as he shook off his coat and lifted his shirt above his head, discarding it onto the floor. You watched, entranced by the way his muscles moved. His broad shoulders and massive tanned biceps patterned with scars. You felt the heat grow again as he turned back to you.
You pouted at Shanks’ words, “It’s a little difficult being patient when you're so horny you feel like you're gonna explode!” You huffed, frowning dramatically. “Being in a hot man’s bed and watching him strip is not helping my situation.”
You immediately regretted your words as you watched his brow rise and a wicked smile form on his face. “A “hot man,” you say. Is that what you think of me?”
“Don’t get cocky,” you spat back, staring him down. He glared back, not backing down from your challenge. You couldn’t take it anymore. You just wanted him.
With a mischievous smile, Shanks crawled back over to you, placing his knee strategically between your legs pushing into the wet spot of your underwear. He ground his leg as he reached his arm up to pull off your shirt, you lifted your arms to make it easier. Shanks sighed with bliss as your breasts came into view, no bra in sight.
You gasped as Shanks’ hand groped one of your breasts and his mouth found the other. You leaned back and interlaced your fingers in Shanks' hair stroking and pulling on the red strands. You couldn’t help but inhale his scent as he devoured you.
Shanks released his lips off of your nipple with a pop and moaned, “In all my years,” he said breathlessly, “I’ve never wished so much that I had both of my hands again.”
You couldn't help but laugh at this statement, it was just too ridiculous. Shanks eyed you curiously, “Are you laughing at your Captain? Or, are you going to start calling me by my name like you did before?” Shanks’ mouth moved lower down your body, kissing your stomach as he trailed down, “Don’t think I didn’t notice you called me ‘Shanks’ earlier. What made you think you could drop honorifics with your Captain like that?”
All you could do was watch him as his lips moved closer and closer to your core, you were speechless with anticipation. Shanks played with the fabric of your underwear, tracing the hem and circling lower towards your clit. You jumped from the sensation. “Though, I have to admit. I did like the sound of my name on your lips.” He continued to tease you with both his words and his movements.
“Please, just touch me already, I can’t-”
“Call me by my name again. Then I’ll consider helping you.” Shanks was enjoying this far too much. His eyes twinkled up at you as he grazed your hip bone with his fingertips.
You gave in immediately, your pride nowhere to be found, “Shanks. Please make me feel good. I’m begging, Shanks.”
“That’s more like it.” Shanks shoved your underwear aside and thumbed your clit roughly. You arched your back at the sudden contact and cried out in pleasure. Shanks was completely enthralled with what was happening in front of him, he couldn't take his eyes away from your glistening pussy, soaking wet, all for him. He wanted more and demanded, “Lift your hips.”
You immediately obeyed your captain and raised your hips. Shanks grabbed your underwear and ripped them off you. You leaned back with anticipation, but nothing came. You peered up at the red-haired man and you realized he was examining your panties. “Oh. Sorry, I know that old pair isn’t exactly sexy…” You explained self-consciously. Then suddenly, as if he was possessed, he shoved your soaked underwear into his face and inhaled deeply. Your mouth fell open at the sight. At last, when he lowered your panties from his face he stared at you intensely, his eyes drunk and lazy from your scent.
You watched mesmerized by the man in front of you as he tossed your underwear aside, gripped the back of your thigh with his arm, and shoved it back towards your head. Before you could react to the sudden change of position, Shanks plunged his tongue between your folds and lapped up your juices. You gripped his hair as he indulged in your aroused pussy. Shanks moaned into you as you tightened your grasp and pulled his hair slightly. He felt his hard-on twitch painfully, desperate and leaking with pre-cum. It didn’t take long before you were rutting into his face, chasing another high and coming undone for a third time by your captain.
As your spasms ceased, Shanks sat back up between your legs. You were mortified to see his face covered in your arousal. You sat up and began to apologize, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry let me just-” You raise your hand to wipe away the creamy slick from his face, only to have it shoved away and to be brought into another hungry kiss. The juices from Shanks’ mouth mixed in with your saliva as your tongues intertwined.
You were at Shanks’ disposal, at his mercy. You wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone. It wasn’t enough, not yet. You needed more. Reaching down, you pressed down on the protruding tent that was rising in Shanks’ pants. Shanks pulled away from you slightly and hissed at the contact. You continued to palm at his growing member and whispered, “I want this, Shanks. I want to make you feel good too.”
Shanks laughed weakly, “Well… if you ask me like that, who am I to say no?” He moved back to sit on his knees and fumbled with his belt and pants. You couldn’t help but smile at how he shakily tripped over his buckle with only one hand. You reached up and helped him by pulling his pants down. Although you knew from feeling him earlier, you were still taken aback by the sheer size of his cock as it nearly smacked you in the face.
You eagerly eyed his cock and looked up at Shanks hovering above you, “Can I…” you begin as you reach up to take him in your grip, “suck it?”
Shanks couldn’t help but let out a gasp as you came into contact with his dick. “If- that’s what you want. But only a little. I’m not confident that I’ll last long if yo-” Shanks was cut off by your tongue trailing up the side of his cock. A shiver ran up his spine, and he gripped your hair with his hand to hold on for dear life. You wanted to taste every part of him, you couldn’t hold back.
You weren’t particularly experienced, but somehow you knew exactly what to do for him. You teased his rosy tip with your tongue, licking circles before wrapping your lips around it. You savored the salty taste and traced your tongue along the veins running down him. There was no way you could take him in his entirety, but you pushed as far as your throat could allow. You only got a few pumps in before Shanks stopped you. “Alright. That’s enough.” He sat back down on his rear and motioned for you to come to him, “This isn’t about me.” Which was true, but he knew his words were just an excuse. He easily could have come from just your tongue if he wasn’t careful.
You got up on your knees as Shanks requested, and straddled him. His dick sat hard in between the two of you as he pulled you in for another breathtaking kiss while he used his free hand to continue to stretch you out. Finally satisfied with his prep, he broke the kiss and lifted your ass to hover over him. Shanks looked up at you and purred, “I’ll leave this part to you.” He wrapped his large hand around yours and guided it to his throbbing cock, “I don’t want to hurt you. So you need to go at your own pace.”
You hesitated slightly at his command, insecure about your skills. But whatever shyness you felt about taking the lead was quickly dismissed by your overflowing arousal. With one hand on Shanks’ shoulder to steady yourself and the other seizing his member, you raised your hips to accommodate his height. You rubbed the head of his cock on your dripping pussy and you both hissed from the contact. Once Shanks was properly lubed by your fluids, you held your breath and slowly lowered your hips onto the tip of his cock. The head alone stretched your inner walls with an intensely painful pleasure. You felt overwhelmed by his size and the electric current that emanated from its pressure. You intended to take him slowly and acclimate to his size, but your instincts took control. You wanted to feel full. You wanted to be completely consumed by him. You hastily realigned yourself, took a breath, and slammed your hips down, instantly taking him down to his base.
Neither of you could keep your voices contained. You let out a moan laced with the pain and pleasure of finally receiving Shanks in his entirety. The feeling was devastating. You gripped Shanks’ head pulling him to your chest as you entangled your fingers in his hair. Shanks cursed as he willed himself to stay in control, the pressure and sensation of your grip was mind-shattering. He wrapped his arm around your waist, gripping your skin to ground himself.
You didn't give him time to recover. You raised your hips again and slammed down hard against him, receiving a grunt from him. You felt drunk, unable to control your actions, you found yourself rocking into him at an uncontrollable pace. The pain was fading away and was replaced by unbelievable pleasure. You needed more, you needed him everywhere.
Shanks took advantage of your position above him, trailing kisses along your chest and leaving occasional bruise and bite mark. He used his tongue to tease and suck on your hard nipples. His hand wandered along the length of your back, grazing your spine with his fingertips leaving you gasping. Even the slightest touch on your body created an unbearable reaction, flooding your senses with bliss.
Shanks’ hand continued to explore your body, ticking the nape of your neck, pinching your nipples, and finally falling between your legs. He flicked and rubbed your clit as you rode him at an alarming pace. You felt yourself nearing another climax as the coil in your core began to tighten. You chased the high as you ground against him, willing yourself to continue despite feeling like you were on the brink of collapse.
Your climax hit you like a train, bringing earth-shattering pleasure throughout your body. You fell forward, pushing Shanks onto his back as the feeling overtook you, unable to continue. But Shanks wouldn't let you rest and you couldn’t contain your voice as Shanks cruelly thrusted up into you, compelling your senses to disintegrate as he fucked you through your peak.
Your ears deafened and rang as you laid exhausted against Shanks’ wide chest, still twitching on his dick. Shanks slowed his pace and you sat on him for a moment as you tried to catch your breath. You felt lighter than when you’d first entered Shanks’ room and your head was clearer, but the burning desire still lay unsatisfied. You tried to sit up to keep riding until your body was appeased, but found yourself collapsing again. Your legs were wobbly, unable to continue. “Shanks,” you whispered, “I think you’re going to have to take over from here. Please.”
Shanks was still reeling from your ruthless pace on his dick. He looked up at you, astonished that you still had the energy to keep going. “So demanding. You’re making me forget I’m the captain here.” Shanks sat up and reversed your positions, laying you flat on your back as he hovered over you, “But, I guess I’ll follow your command this time, Captain.”
Shanks pushed your legs back again and took a moment to examine your swollen pink pussy. It dripped and pulsed in anticipation, making it obvious that the mushroom was still wreaking havoc on your nerves. Shanks knew you wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer and decided to bring this to an end as soon as possible. He positioned himself above you and gripped his cock. Pushing it on you, he teased your clit with his tip for a moment before moving lower and watching in awe as you swallowed his thick cock to the brim of his balls.
You gripped the sheets around you tightly, this felt even deeper than before, he was reaching far down inside and rubbing all your sensitive spots. He sat there a moment breathing deep with his eyes closed, feeling the deepest corners of your pussy squeeze and warm him. He was only brought back to reality when you squirmed and whimpered underneath him. You needed more friction, more movement, more anything. Your body was not going to be as patient as Shanks was wanting.
Shanks opened his eyes and smirked down at you, “Don’t worry,” he gripped your thigh tightly with his hand leaving it stinging, “I’ll give you what you want.”
Without warning he lifted his hips, leaving his tip barely inside you, and plowed himself into you as deep and as hard as he could. You choked on your own breath as he pulled out and hammered down into you again, and again. He set an abusive pace, each stroke hitting your deepest nerves and causing waves of spine-tingling pleasure.
Your heightened senses multiplied every feeling, every touch, and every kiss. You felt as if your body was going to disintegrate underneath Shanks. The sensation in your body was unfamiliar and frightening and it was becoming too much. You put your hands on Shanks’ chest in a half-hearted attempt to slow him down, but his merciless tempo continued to wreck your body. Twitching from pleasure, you attempted again to turn your body to run from the feeling. It was all too intense, it was too good and you couldn’t take it anymore.
Before you could move away Shanks forced you back into position and entangled his hand with yours. His thrusts persisted as he leaned down his head next to yours and whispered gruffly into your ear, his slurring voice tickling your neck, “This is what you wanted, right? What you needed? Take it for me. Be a good girl for me.”
You were nearly comatose from the pleasure racking your body. Just from his words, you reached another climax, and Shanks fucked you through it once again. Your eyesight became hazy and you knew you needed to ground yourself. Out of desperation, one of your hands reached out to claw his back and the other clenched his hair. You opened your mouth and bit down hard on Shanks’ shoulder. Shanks hissed harshly as your teeth pierced his shoulder, yet he found himself smiling. Your disobedience had always been a turn-on for him. Excited from the pain, he moaned into your ear, “I’m- close. So close.”
“Come in me.” You cried out. You knew you sounded desperate, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted him to ruin you, “Please come in me, Shanks. Please… Please… Please,” tears ran down your cheeks and you lost all sense of self. All you knew was that you wanted Shanks, every last bit of him.
It took all of Shanks’ willpower not to fulfill your request.
Every last instinct in Shanks’ body willed him to release inside you, to truly make you his. But his reasoning prevailed. He knew that despite everything he could not do that to you in this state. So, with a few final harsh thrusts, Shanks pulled his cock out and released his warm come across your stomach.
Shanks collapsed next to you, panting. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this. Everything around him felt fuzzy as he came down from his orgasmic high. Once he finally caught his breath again, he turned over and reached for you.
You had passed out.
…
You woke with a jolt of pain as you turned over on your side in your sleep. Groaning, you shifted your body to try and stretch out your achy muscles. However, you realized that you couldn’t move. There was a weight laying across your abdomen… and your leg… and there was something pressed up against your back…
Your eyes snapped open.
You weren’t in your room, that was obvious. But where were you? You turned slightly to lay on your back, and looking down you saw an arm strewn across your stomach. Horrified, your eyes trailed up to see whose arm it was. It took everything in you not to scream as you realized you were entangled in your captain's sleepy limbs.
Your mind raced, desperate to remember what happened. You were exploring the island, Shanks came with you, you went into the cave and…
It all came flooding back.
You lay there in shock.
What was going to happen now? What if someone saw you? Would you have to leave the ship?
Your eyes wandered to where he lay, breathing deep in his slumber. He was shirtless and you couldn’t help but stare. Looking down you realized you weren’t wearing your own clothes, but rather an oversized off-white button-down shirt. It was obvious that Shanks lent you his own shirt. What a gentleman, you thought sarcastically as your body ached. But, you couldn’t help yourself, you turned your body to face him for a better look at the man before you, admiring his strong features.
As you savored the view in front of you, Shanks willed his body to sit as still as possible. He had woken up nearly an hour before you had and had spent the time watching you sleep, stroking your hair, and indulging in the feeling of sleeping next to you. He panicked when you shifted in your sleep and decided to pretend to be asleep. To his surprise, you hadn’t gotten up to leave, and he could feel your warm gaze on his face. He savored this morning, never wanting it to end.
The peaceful moment was ruined in an instant.
Shanks’ bedroom door flew open with a loud crash as none other than Benn Beckman strode in. You and Shanks’ eyes flew open and met each other in horror before turning your attention to the trespasser. Beckman didn’t get more than three steps into his Captain’s room when he realized what he stumbled in on.
There was a moment of silence, all three of you stared at each other, taking in the information in front of you.
Finally, you came to your senses and flung the sheets over yourself to hide from the embarrassment. You felt Shanks’ hand lay protectively on your back as you hid, “Beckman,” He spoke sharply, “you’d better have a good reason for barging into my room.”
Beckman gulped, “Definitely not a good enough reason for this.”
“Right. Beckman?”
“Yes?”
“Leave. Now.”
“Right. Don’t have to tell me twice.” Beckman turned to the door and stepped out of the room. You peeked out of the blankets and saw Beckman pause before closing the door behind him. He looked back at you and Shanks sternly, “I hope you two know what you’re doing.”
And with that, he closed the door.
You peeled back the covers and emerged next to Shanks. The two of you sat in silence for a minute, both pondering Beckman’s statement. He had a good point. What were you going to do now? Mushroom or not, the two of you crossed the boundary between captain and crewmate. Would you both ignore it and pretend nothing happened?
Your mind was spinning down all the possibilities that were laid out in front of you. Shanks thought your ears would start smoking soon, and he spoke first. Laying you back down on his arm he spoke two simple sentences that made you relax and settle down to sleep.
“Let’s worry about this tomorrow. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”
𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊
𓍊𓋼𓍊 authors note: HUGE shout out to @nanpecan for editing this and helping me not sound illiterate
#I'm not a writer be nice to me#here for the laffs xoxo#if anyone was wondering lagneia just means lust in greek#the creative juices were just flowing out of me what can i say#shanks#shanks x reader#shanks hc#one piece#one piece hc#one piece fanfic#shanks fanfic#self insert#one piece self insert#sex pollen#smut#shanks smut#one piece headcanons#shanks headcanons#one piece x reader#shanks x y/n#one piece x y/n#mine#shanks one shot#one shot#shanks fic
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"Is there something wrong with my pants?"
Summary: Jinx's comes home after getting half of Zaun out of Stillwater with a doubt on her mind.
Pairing: Jinx x fem!reader
Wordcount: 1.4k
Authors note: I laughed so hard at this scene that I had to write something based on it. Also, guys, I'm absolutely refusing to accept the ending of episode 6 for my own mental health.
masterlist
The hideout is still, the quiet hum of the machinery and the flicker of a dim lamp your only company. You've been waiting for Jinx, trying not to imagine all the chaos she’s causing out there. You know she’s been working on something big, but you’re never quite sure exactly what until she shows up.
The door slams open, and in she bursts, her energy almost tangible as she steps into the room. Jinx is practically glowing, a grin stretched across her face that matches the wild sparkle in her eyes. Her clothes are messy, but she’s hardly bothered by it, her usual chaotic aura taking over.
“Guess who just pulled half of Zaun outta Stillwater?” she announces, her voice thick with excitement. She practically bounces in place, her fingers twitching like she’s about to explode with more energy.
You blink, surprised. “Wait—half of Zaun? You mean you—”
Jinx nods, cutting you off with a quick motion of her hands. “Yeah! I snuck in, all stealthy-like, dodged the enforcers, and got them out. No one even knew what hit ‘em! They’re gonna be talking about this for ages, trust me.” She leans in closer, her face lighting up with that grin that’s both wild and contagious. “I’m like their ghost, except, you know, way cooler.”
You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, though a small part of you wonders how she managed it without being caught. She’s reckless, but she’s also clever in her own strange way.
Her voice drops a little, a mix of excitement and something softer underneath it. “It felt good, y’know? Being the one who saves the day for once.” She rubs the back of her neck sheepishly, glancing at you like she’s half unsure if you’ll think it’s stupid.
You step forward, catching her eyes with a soft smile. “I’m proud of you, Jinx. You did something good today.”
Her eyes widen slightly, a little surprised at the words, before her usual grin returns, if a little softer now. "Well, I don’t always blow things up, y’know." She shrugs, still trying to play it off like it’s no big deal, but you can tell she’s pleased.
“Yeah, but you always make it exciting," you reply, stepping closer to her, your voice warm. "Only you could pull something like that off and get away with it."
Jinx laughs, her energy rising again, and she twirls around once more, feeling the high of her success. "Well, they won’t be calling me ‘crazy’ for much longer! They’ll be calling me a hero soon enough—just wait!"
You smile, watching her, knowing that her idea of ‘hero’ is always going to be a little different from the norm. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
After the rush of adrenaline begins to fade, Jinx’s usual wild energy starts to settle, leaving behind a quieter, more tired version of her. She lets out a long breath, her grin softening as she moves to the couch, her steps a little less bouncy now.
“You know,” she says, her voice much softer than before, “sometimes, all that sneaky, saving-the-day stuff takes more out of me than I thought.”
She drops onto the couch with a sigh, sprawling out, but then pats the empty space next to her, glancing up at you with a mischievous smile. “C’mere. You’re not gonna leave me hanging after all that, are you?”
You raise an eyebrow but walk over anyway, sitting next to her. As soon as you do, Jinx pulls you down beside her, her arms wrapping around you like a vice, dragging you closer as she snuggles into your side.
“Perfect,” she mutters, resting her head against your shoulder with a contented sigh. Her usual wild energy has faded, replaced by something softer, something that only ever seems to appear when she’s with you. She lets out a small, satisfied hum, clearly enjoying the comfort of just being close to you after everything.
“You know, you’re the only one who doesn’t think I’m a total freak," she says after a few moments of quiet, her voice more vulnerable than she usually lets on. "You’re the only one who gets it… and me." She nuzzles into your side, her arms tightening around you slightly.
You smile softly, resting a hand on her back, your fingers gently tracing the familiar lines of her jacket. "You’re not a freak, Jinx. You're just... you. And that’s all I need."
She glances up at you, her eyes bright, but there’s something softer there now, something deeper than the usual spark of mischief. "Good," she mutters with a quiet chuckle. "’Cause I’m never gonna change." Her grip on you tightens a little, and she settles further into your side, clearly at peace now. “So, I’m gonna stay here and cuddle until the world falls apart again. You cool with that?”
You chuckle, feeling the warmth of her body next to yours, the chaos of her day finally falling away as she rests against you. “I’m more than cool with that.”
Jinx lets out another satisfied sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxes even more, completely at ease in your arms. And for once, everything feels calm—just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, in a world that’s spinning too fast for anyone else to catch
Jinx stays nestled against you for a while, the chaos of the day melting away in the quiet comfort between you. Her breathing has slowed, and she feels more relaxed than she has in hours. The soft hum of the hideout is the only sound, but then, out of nowhere, she shifts slightly in your arms, her mood taking a subtle dip.
You feel her tense, just for a second, and her voice comes out a little softer than usual. “Hey… um… do you think there’s something wrong with my pants?”
You blink, not sure if you heard her correctly. And then, you glance down at her—her eyes wide, her lips pressed together like she’s genuinely worried. It’s such a stark contrast to the wild, unpredictable energy she usually exudes. The sudden vulnerability in her face, combined with the seriousness of her tone, is almost too much.
And before you can stop yourself, you burst out laughing. It’s not mean-spirited, just genuine, surprised amusement. The ridiculousness of the question, paired with the look on her face, catches you off guard.
Jinx blinks at you, her eyes narrowing slightly in confusion as she watches you laugh. “What?” she asks, her voice a little defensive, though the corners of her mouth twitch in response to your laughter. "Is it really that funny?"
You try to catch your breath, still chuckling. “Jinx… you—" You wipe your eyes with your sleeve, grinning. “You’re worried about your pants? Look at you! You’re the last person who should care about that!”
She pouts for a moment, her arms still around you as she pulls herself a little closer, almost like she’s trying to hide. “It’s not funny, okay?” she mutters, her voice quieter now, though there’s still a hint of that pout on her lips. "That enforcer made me feel stupid... and I didn’t like it."
You stop laughing, realizing just how much it’s bothering her. You gently tilt her chin up to look at you, the playful tone fading as you meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Jinx,” you say, your voice soft but sincere. “It’s just… you’re telling me this, and then I look at you, and I’m like— … Who cares what she thinks?”
She stares at you for a moment, the pout fading as she lets out a small breath. “Yeah, but still...” she trails off, still fiddling with the fabric of her pants.
You grin, brushing a hand through her hair as you pull her back into you. “You’re perfect, Jinx. Those pants? Totally you. No one else could pull them off like you do.”
her head resting against your chest as she lets out a soft sigh, the weight of her earlier worries starting to ease away. “You’re the best,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You smile, kissing the top of her head. “You’d probably blow something up, but I’d still be right here.”
And just like that, the tension fades. She’s back to her usual self—still a little quirky, but reassured and relaxed in your arms.
#jinx arcane#jinx x y/n#jinx x reader#arcane jinx#jinx/you#jinx x fem!reader#jinx posting#jinx league of legends#jinx lol#jinx
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Dark Platonic Mother! Cleopatra x Reincarnated Reader
Getting Reincarnated as the daughter of Cleopatra was the last thing you expected to happen to you.
The woman had you with a lover and decided to pass you off as the daughter of her first husband, Ptolemy XIII.
Let us get one thing straight, you were proud to be Cleopatra's daughter, as you saw her intelligence and chrismatic nature.
Being her first child, her overprotective attitude showed as you grew up.
She seduced Julius Caesar and Mark Antony to secure your safety.
There's no denying that you are her favourite child.
You tried to convince your mother to take different paths to avoid her demise.
But in the end, the paths still led to her demise.
However, the last female Pharaoh of Egypt decided to take you with her, refusing to leave you in the mercy of Augustus Caesar like the rest of her children.
Cleopatra’s gaze burned with a frenzied intensity as she clutched the your trembling hands, her voice trembling with emotion.
"My dearest daughter," she whispered, her tone a mix of desperation and conviction.
"Rome’s chains will not touch us. If Augustus dares to take us, we will not give him the satisfaction of parading us as spoils of war. You and I are above such humiliation, we are divine!"
Her grip tightened, her nails pressing into your skin, and she gestured toward a small, ornate chest on the table.
Within it lay the deadly asp, coiled and waiting.
Cleopatra’s eyes shone with determination as she drew the you closer, her words laced with a terrifying calmness.
"Together, we shall ascend to the gods. You belong with me, forever."
You stumbled backward, your heart pounding in terror as Cleopatra’s words sank in.
"No! I don’t want to die! Please, Mother, we can escape! There has to be another way!" You pleaded, tears streaming down your face.
The idea of experiencing death once again, a foreign, unimaginable concept for someone pulled from a different world sent you into panic.
Cleopatra, however, dismissed your protests with a soft, almost pitying smile, as though the your fear was a child’s naivety.
"Hush now," she murmured, stroking your cheek with a tenderness that only deepened the dread in her heart.
"You don’t understand yet, but you will. This is the only freedom left to us. The gods will welcome us as one."
Desperation clawed at you as Cleopatra reached for the asp, her movements slow.
You fell to your knees, clutching Cleopatra’s skirts, your voice breaking as you begged,
"Please, don’t do this! I’m not ready, I don’t want to leave, I need to be here for my siblings"
For the first time, Cleopatra hesitated, her hand trembling as she looked down at the your tear-streaked face.
For a fleeting moment, something human flickered in Cleopatra’s gaze, doubt, perhaps, or sorrow.
But it was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by the unyielding determination of a queen who believed she was saving her beloved daughter from a fate worse than death.
"You don’t need to be afraid," Cleopatra whispered, pulling the reader into a suffocating embrace.
"We are leaving this world together. You’ll thank me when we are free."
However, when the asp bites you then Cleopatra...you miraculously and barely manage to survive.
𓅁 𓅂
When you woke, the oppressive weight of Cleopatra’s arms was gone, replaced by the cool silk of Roman linens.
The air felt heavy, and the low murmur of distant voices sent a shiver down your spine.
Slowly, you opened your eyes, your body weak but alive, and saw a figure seated beside your bed, his presence radiating authority. Augustus.
His smile was unnervingly calm, his piercing eyes watching her as if you were a prey ensnared in his trap.
“Ah, you’re awake,” Augustus said softly, his voice like honey laced with venom.
He leaned closer, his hands clasped as though he were greeting an honored guest, not a survivor of a tragedy he orchestrated.
"You’re even more exquisite than I imagined. Cleopatra spoke of you so often, a divine child, she called you, her most precious treasure."
His gaze darkened slightly, a possessive edge creeping into his tone.
"And now, you’re mine." Your heart raced as you struggled to sit up, your body shaking under the weight of exhaustion.
Augustus reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a mockery of Cleopatra’s tender touch.
"You don’t need to fear me, I will protect you, as she couldn’t. No harm will come to you… so long as you remember who owns you now.”
#tw: toxic relationships#reader insert#platonic yandere#cleopatra#Cleopatra x reader#yandere historical characters#augustus x reader#ancient history#ancient egypt
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Promises in Moonlight || Malleus Draconia
You've chosen Malleus!
Falling for Malleus was like finding warmth in the heart of Briar Valley's mist—slow, unyielding, and all-consuming.
Prologue ; 1k Masterlist
You’ve finally decided to take Malleus up on his invitation. After debating for what feels like forever (and Grim mocking you for "acting like a smitten fool"), you pull out your phone and text him, "I’d love to go for that walk with you!"
The reply you get is instant, as if Malleus had been sitting with his phone, eagerly awaiting your response:
"Dearest Child of Man, your acceptance fills me with an immeasurable sense of joy. I shall meet you at the courtyard shortly. Together, we will bask in the serenity of the night, under the gentle watch of the stars. Until then, may your anticipation for our evening be as bright as the moon above."
You can’t help but laugh. It’s the most Malleus text ever. It’s endearing in that formal, poetic, almost ancient way of his, and you feel warmth blooming in your chest as you quickly send a more casual, "Can’t wait :)" back to him.
Fast forward to later that evening, and Malleus arrives at Ramshackle Dorm. He’s looking as regal as ever, his usual air of authority softened by the way he looks at you. It’s not often you see Malleus trying to be cute, but he’s definitely putting in the effort. Before you can greet him properly, Grim trots up to Malleus with his chest puffed out.
"Hear me out, Tall, Dark, and Spooky," Grim begins, sounding like he’s about to bestow a grave responsibility, "You better keep my henchhuman safe tonight. If anything happens to ‘em, I’ll… I’ll bite your ankles or somethin’!"
You glance sideways at Grim, trying not to snicker. Malleus blinks once, twice, then solemnly nods. "Fear not, small creature," he says, placing a hand over his heart. "I shall protect them as though they were a rare treasure."
Grim gives a self-satisfied nod, satisfied with Malleus’s promise, but mutters under his breath, "Better be careful with those big words, pal. You’ll confuse yourself."
Malleus, seemingly oblivious to Grim’s muttering, reaches into his coat pocket and produces a delicate, ethereal flower that looks like it was plucked straight from a fairy tale. He offers it to you with a small, proud smile. "I thought this would suit you."
You accept the flower, grinning. "It’s beautiful. But… I’m going to put it in my hair so I can hold your hand instead."
Malleus blinks, looking a bit caught off guard but quickly recovering. "Of course." His eyes light up as he helps you tuck the flower into your hair, then immediately offers you his hand.
As your fingers intertwine with his, you catch a glimpse of Malleus looking rather pleased with himself. The two of you set off on your walk, and the cool night air feels refreshing as you stroll through the nearly deserted campus.
The silence between you isn’t awkward—it’s peaceful. You walk in step with Malleus, both of you just existing in the shared space. Occasionally, you glance over at him, and he meets your gaze with a small smile, looking like he’s perfectly content just to be here with you.
After a while, Malleus breaks the silence. "I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve arranged for something a little… special tonight," he says, his tone carrying just a hint of mystery.
"Oh? What kind of ‘special’?" you ask, curiosity piqued.
"You’ll see soon enough." There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leads you to Diasomnia.
The moment you step inside, you’re hit with a scene that is, frankly, a chaotic masterpiece. The room has been transformed—or rather, overrun—with blankets, pillows, and a massive screen set up at the front. It looks like a makeshift home theater… if home theaters had Malleus-themed decorations plastered everywhere.
Sebek, naturally, is standing near the entrance, looking way too serious for a casual movie night. You spot Silver, slouched on a couch, looking like he’s already resigned to his fate. And then there’s Lilia, standing proudly beside what can only be described as an abomination of a dish.
"Welcome!" Lilia says, grinning as you take in the scene. "I’ve prepared a meal that will enhance your movie-watching experience!"
"By enhance, do you mean threaten our health?" Silver mutters under his breath.
Lilia just winks at you. "It’s a very special recipe. A relic of ancient times!"
"More like an ancient curse," Silver mumbles, though he doesn’t even try to argue anymore.
You bite back a laugh, eyeing the dish with mild suspicion. It’s bubbling. You’re pretty sure it shouldn’t be bubbling.
"Yeah, I think I’ll pass on the ancient relic stew, but thanks," you say diplomatically, backing away just a little.
Malleus, meanwhile, is over by the movie selection, poring over the options like he’s deciding on the fate of the universe.
While you wait, you notice the posters—of Malleus. Everywhere. "Sebek," you say slowly, "why… are there so many Malleus posters?"
Sebek, looking proud as ever, gestures grandly at the posters. "It’s only fitting to surround ourselves with the greatness of Lord Malleus during such a significant event!"
"You mean… movie night?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Every moment spent in Lord Malleus’s presence is significant!" Sebek declares, his voice booming through the room.
You glance at Silver, who’s barely staying awake on the couch. "You’re just… going to let this happen?" you ask him.
Silver shrugs, not even opening his eyes. "I tried. He wouldn’t listen."
Meanwhile, Lilia sidles up to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Isn’t this just the most romantic setting? Blankets, pillows, and the gentle glow of Malleus-themed lighting?" He wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively.
You roll your eyes, but can’t help but laugh. "Very romantic," you say dryly. "Nothing says ‘date night’ like staring at your date’s face plastered on every surface."
Malleus returns, oblivious to the chaos unfolding around him, and gently takes your hand. "I believe I’ve found the perfect movie for us," he says.
You nod, smiling up at him, and soon the others—after a bit more banter (and an exaggerated wink from Lilia)—excuse themselves, leaving you and Malleus alone. Well, alone except for the giant Malleus plushie you’ve decided to cuddle.
"You’re… quite fond of that plushie," Malleus remarks, clearly amused as you hug it to your chest.
You grin. "What can I say? It’s cute. Though the real thing is a lot more handsome."
Malleus chuckles softly, his voice low and warm. "I’m glad you think so."
The movie begins, but it’s hard to focus when you’re so comfortable, leaning against Malleus with the plushie in your arms. His presence is soothing, his warmth comforting, and before you know it, you’re resting your head on his shoulder.
Malleus tenses slightly at first, then relaxes, letting out a contented sigh. His fingers gently trace circles on your hand, and you can feel the smile tugging at his lips even though you’re not looking directly at him.
By the time the movie ends, you’re both so relaxed that moving feels like an unnecessary chore. But, eventually, Malleus stands and offers his hand to help you up.
"Shall I walk you back to your dorm?" he asks, his tone as soft as the night air outside.
You nod, still clutching the Malleus plushie. "I’m keeping this, by the way."
Malleus looks genuinely pleased. "I’m honored that you would want a keepsake of me."
You laugh softly, feeling a bit giddy as the two of you walk back to Ramshackle, hand in hand. The stars twinkle overhead, but all you can focus on is the warmth of Malleus’s hand in yours.
When you reach the dorm, Malleus stops at the entrance, gently lifting your hand to his lips for a soft kiss. "I hope you enjoyed our evening," he says, his voice low and sincere.
Your heart flutters, but before you can overthink it, you lean forward and kiss him on the cheek. "I did," you say, grinning. Then, with a quick wave, you bounce inside, feeling giddy and lighthearted.
Behind you, Malleus watches with that same soft, fond smile—the one that makes you feel like you’re the one who hung the moon and stars in the sky.
You’re making friendship bracelets. A totally normal, human, dorm-room craft project that you figured would be a simple way to spend time with Malleus. Only, you didn't realize that trying to explain the concept of “friendship bracelets” to a fae prince would result in the single most baffling night of his life.
“...so, wait.” He holds up the half-done bracelet, staring at it like it’s a cryptic relic. “This braided string will signify… a bond?”
You nod enthusiastically, handing him another bead. “Yep! It’s a human tradition. It means you’re, like, symbolically connected, so whenever you look at the bracelet, you remember the person who made it for you.”
He stares at the half-finished bracelet with grave intensity, as if he’s holding a sacred relic. “So, this… strand of colored threads… will tether me to you, even in times when we are apart?”
You nod again, trying not to giggle. “Exactly. Just a cute, little reminder of our friendship.”
He considers this with such solemnity that you can practically see him pondering the metaphysical implications of colored yarn.
“What magic does it require?” he asks after a beat, fully serious.
You blink. “Magic? Oh, it doesn’t need magic. It’s… just a bracelet.”
His brow furrows, and he holds up his attempt at weaving, which, frankly, looks more like a knotted ball than anything close to a bracelet. “I see. So, human enchantments rely on symbolism rather than spells.”
You bite back a laugh. “Uh… sure. Yeah, it’s symbolic magic.”
“Fascinating.” He looks down at his tangled knot of yarn, nodding solemnly. “Then I must ensure my own… symbol is woven with the utmost care. For a bond such as ours, it must not unravel.”
You’re halfway through yours when you realize he’s been muttering to himself, beads and string in hand, whispering things like, “May this braid carry my promise of loyalty” and “I vow to protect our bond with the same devotion I would give the throne.”
He even brings his hand to his heart at one point, closing his eyes with the bracelet pressed to his chest. You’re struggling not to laugh as he gives what is essentially a formal vow to the bracelet.
“Malleus,” you say, finally unable to hold it in, “you know it’s just a bracelet, right? You don’t have to swear a whole oath.”
He looks up, slightly flustered. “Ah… right. Of course.” He clears his throat, but there’s a bit of a pink tinge to his cheeks. “Well… if it carries the weight of our connection, I should still approach it with appropriate respect.”
You shake your head, suppressing a smile. “It’s honestly perfect just as it is.”
He holds out the knotted, lopsided braid he’s made, eyes gleaming. “Then, I present to you, my friendship… symbol.”
You accept it with a grin, tying it on. “Thanks, Malleus. This might be the most intense friendship bracelet I’ve ever gotten.”
“Of course,” he replies, smiling gently. “It is a pledge. And… I’ll think of you, whenever I see it.”
You bite back a laugh again, but honestly, his sincerity is so endearing you might just melt on the spot. And as you look at the knotted, chaotic masterpiece on your wrist, you realize you’ve never loved a bracelet more.
You were desperate. No, really—absolutely desperate. Lilia was busy with some mysterious “business,” and Silver had fallen asleep before you even got your full sentence out. That left…Sebek.
But you thought maybe, just maybe, you could get him to help you pick out a gift for Malleus if you praised Malleus enough to keep him distracted and maybe, hopefully, get him to leave you alone once you found something.
Sebek, however, wasn’t budging from your side.
“This is a sacred duty!” he announced, as you entered the gift shop. “For you to bring a gift worthy of Lord Malleus’s greatness, I shall assist! Do not think of slacking in this matter!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you muttered under your breath. Oh, this was going to be a long day.
You wander through the aisles and spot a black dragon statuette. You figure, hey, it’s got that draconic charm Malleus likes, and it’s nice enough without screaming “I tried way too hard.”
“What about this?” you suggest.
Sebek’s nose wrinkles like you just offered him expired milk. “This common tchotchke? Lord Malleus deserves something that reflects the grandiosity of his soul! This is but a disgrace!”
“...Okay,” you mumble, quickly putting the dragon back. “Noted. Next one.”
You take a deep breath, determined not to give up. You find a beautiful leather-bound book, the kind with fancy gold embossing that practically screams “I have depth and culture.” Perfect for Malleus, right?
Sebek looks at it, raises an eyebrow, and says with all the judgment he can muster, “A book? This is not some back-alley rummage sale! Lord Malleus is no mere scholar—he is a being of power and mystery. A mere book is not worthy!”
You’re starting to get a headache. “Sebek, this isn’t a sacred quest. It’s just a gift.”
Sebek crosses his arms. “Then act like it!”
You’re mentally calculating how long it would take to just make a break for it when you spot a crystal snow globe on a nearby shelf. It’s got a tiny castle inside with delicate little frosted details and swirling glitter. Pretty cute, honestly.
“What about this one?” You hold it up, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.
Sebek stares at the snow globe, visibly appalled. “A snow globe? Are you trying to insinuate that Lord Malleus is some… carnival trinket vendor? This is an insult!”
You try to control your breathing. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.
Finally, you turn to him with a smile that’s about five seconds from breaking. “Sebek, it has been a pleasure. But I think I’ll, uh… figure it out myself from here.”
You barely hear him as he starts to object because you’re already halfway out the door.
Back at Ramshackle, an idea hits you. If you can’t find a gift, you can make one. After scouring the dorm for supplies, you somehow put together a makeshift snow globe with a tiny gargoyle inside, swirling in blue and silver glitter. It’s definitely handmade, but you’re sure Malleus will appreciate it.
Later that evening, you meet Malleus outside, heart pounding a bit as you hold out the homemade snow globe. “I… made this for you,” you say, offering it up.
Malleus takes it, eyes wide with wonder as he examines it, turning it in his hands to watch the glitter float around the little gargoyle. “Did you… make this yourself?”
“Yeah,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck. “Figured you’d like it. And hey, it’s one of a kind, so… now you have something no one else does.”
Malleus’s expression softens, his smile growing into something that practically melts your heart. “Are you… courting me?” he asks, his tone almost mischievous.
You snort. “I am, actually. Thought I’d ask you out…again. Officially.”
Malleus’s eyes light up, and he pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you as if you’re the rarest treasure. “Then I graciously accept,” he says, his voice warm with laughter.
Sebek’s probably going to be horrified, but that’s a problem for future you. Right now, Malleus is looking at you with an expression that says you’re all he’s ever wanted, and that’s more than enough.
Malleus Draconia storming into the infirmary was a sight to behold. The door nearly flew off its hinges as he strode in, casting a long shadow over the entire room. Rain poured against the windows like someone had flipped on a faucet, lightning crackling ominously outside as he zeroed in on you with eyes that could’ve cut glass.
“Child of Man,” he intoned, voice a few shades too deep and dark. “I heard you were hurt.”
You, sitting up on the infirmary bed, waved a hand quickly. “Malleus, I’m fine! I’m totally fine! Ace actually took most of the fall for me.”
At that, Malleus’s intense gaze shifted to Ace, who was lying in the bed next to you, bruised, bandaged, and looking a bit like a disaster but still somehow smug. His grin only widened as Malleus took him in, and for once, Ace didn’t seem to have any wisecracks. Not yet, at least.
“Really, I’m okay, Malleus,” you reassured him again, reaching out to gently tug on his sleeve, trying to bring him back to reality. “It was just… a minor accident.”
Malleus let out a breath, his shoulders finally relaxing, and the rain outside softened to a drizzle. But when he saw Ace's injuries, a faint gleam of green magic sparked in his eyes. With a murmured spell, Malleus extended a hand over Ace, and a warm green light enveloped him, healing the bruises and cuts in seconds.
Ace blinked, absolutely dumbfounded as he patted himself down, looking at his newly healed skin. “Woah, hold on. Did… did I just get fae-healed?” He threw a proud glance at Deuce, who looked equally impressed.
“Guess saving someone as important as the prefect has its perks, huh?” Ace grinned, milking the moment for all it was worth.
Deuce elbowed him, eyes wide. “Dude, you got a fae to use magic on you! That’s like… that’s gotta be worth something!”
Malleus, however, seemed completely unaware of their astonishment. He turned back to you, his expression softening. “I’m relieved to see you unharmed, but perhaps we should consider… measures to avoid this in the future.”
You tilted your head, a bit wary of his tone. “Measures?”
“Yes.” Malleus nodded, serious as ever. “I will procure a shield for you. Perhaps one enchanted with protective charms, powerful enough to withstand nearly any impact.” His hand closed over yours, his gaze softening but his words completely, utterly sincere. “I’d rather not see you in danger again.”
At this, you couldn’t hold back a snicker. “A… shield? Malleus, that’s sweet, but I think a little protective magic might be overkill.”
“Absolutely not,” Malleus replied, as if you’d suggested something truly absurd. “Or perhaps I should assign a member of my guard to you. It would be a temporary arrangement, of course.”
Ace, never one to let an opportunity slip by, piped up. “Oooh, how about Sebek? He’d follow them around like a watchdog. ‘Human, beware of the tripping hazard!’ ‘Human', allow me to carry your books to avoid any injury!’”
You laughed so hard at the impression that you nearly slid off the bed. Deuce tried his best to look like he was keeping it together, but the way his shoulders shook betrayed him.
Malleus, apparently unfazed by your amusement, looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “You mock my concerns, yet I believe this is a practical solution.”
“Oh, I know you do,” you said, wiping your eyes. “But, trust me. I’ll be okay without a magical shield or a Sebek bodyguard. Especially since, well…” You softened, leaning into his chest and giving his back a comforting pat. “You’re here to keep me safe, aren’t you?”
The room went still as Malleus’s expression softened even further, his entire face lighting up at your words. The last of the rain disappeared, leaving only a golden sunset spilling light through the windows.
Meanwhile, Ace watched the two of you with a half-joking pout. “Damn. Imagine being favored by a fae prince and dropping that kind of romantic line. If only Malleus was this concerned with my safety.”
Deuce crossed his arms, pretending to ponder. “You think we could get fae security if we also hung out with the prefect all the time?”
Grim, who’d been lounging on your bed, rolled his eyes. “Listen, you two can argue all you want, but I’m the one who gets the most danger-protection, and don’t you forget it!”
Ignoring the three, you glanced back at Malleus. “Seriously, I don’t need any magic armor, Malleus. As long as you’re around, I’ll be okay.”
For a moment, Malleus just looked at you, a rare and breathtaking smile spreading across his face. Slowly, he raised your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss there, the gentleness of the gesture stealing your breath.
“I shall remain, then,” he murmured, his voice as warm as the sunset. “Though my offer still stands should you ever change your mind.”
You grinned, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek. “Noted, Your Highness. I’ll let you know.”
With a parting wink and one last hand squeeze, Malleus let you settle back, his gaze lingering on you with an affectionate warmth that softened all the edges of his normally intense demeanor. If you’d known he’d go this far over one little mishap, maybe you’d have considered more dangerous hobbies just to see that side of him.
The rain was no ordinary downpour, that much was certain. It came in waves, sweeping across the campus like a brewing tempest, soaking students to the bone if they dared step outside. But as the day dragged on and the storm grew more intense, you were pretty sure you knew who was behind it.
You’d tried calling Malleus several times—three missed calls, four, five… and each time, the rain seemed to pour harder. You knew this wasn't just a storm; it was his storm, and whatever caused it had to be serious. When Malleus finally didn’t answer his phone on the sixth call, you felt your worry rise and dialed Lilia instead.
“Ah, you’ve noticed?” Lilia’s voice came through, light but with a hint of concern. “Malleus isn’t usually this… temperamental. Why don’t you come by Diasomnia? I think you might be able to reach him better than anyone right now.”
As the rain continued pounding outside, Lilia whisked you to the dark halls of Diasomnia, both of you making your way to Malleus’s dorm room. You raised your hand and knocked, waiting. Nothing. You glanced at Lilia, who gave you an encouraging nod. You turned the handle slowly, easing the door open.
Inside, Malleus was seated by his window, staring out at the rain-soaked world like some tragic hero in a romance novel. His usually strong and dignified presence seemed... deflated. His shoulders were hunched, and his entire form looked as if it was weighed down by an unseen burden.
"Malleus?" you said gently.
He turned, his eyes widening just slightly at the sight of you. But then his gaze dropped, and he returned to staring out at the rain. “Why did you come?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re clearly upset,” you replied, crossing the room to stand by his side.
He stayed quiet for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts. “I overheard some students talking… about us,” he said slowly, bitterness edging his words. “They said our relationship is… impossible. That it won’t last because we’re too different. That you’d never want to live somewhere like Briar Valley… and that—” His voice broke slightly, and he hesitated. “That no human in their right mind would choose a life there with me.”
His words felt like a dagger, and you could see the depth of his hurt in the way he clenched his hands. The thought of him hearing such hurtful things from people who didn't even know him, didn’t know you, sparked something protective in you. You sat down beside him, reaching out to place your hand over his.
“Malleus, those people don’t know anything,” you said softly but firmly. “They only see what they want to see. But they don’t see you.”
“But… they aren’t wrong, are they?” His voice was so low it almost broke your heart. “Briar Valley is… a kingdom of fae, ancient and isolated. And I… I am not like you. I am seen as a figure of fear by many.”
“Stop it.” You squeezed his hand, forcing him to look at you. “Malleus, you’re not ‘gloomy’ or ‘scary.’ You’re thoughtful and kind. And as for Briar Valley…” You took a deep breath, your eyes shining. “I’d follow you to a volcano if you asked me to, Malleus. And Briar Valley sounds lovely in comparison.”
He blinked, looking genuinely taken aback. “You… mean that?”
“Of course I do.” You felt a smile tugging at your lips, leaning closer to him. “Malleus, I’m… I’m in love with you. I don’t care about where we are, as long as we’re together. Besides, I’d visit my friends; it’s not like I’d be vanishing off the face of the earth.”
He stared at you, wide-eyed, as if you’d just declared the moon was his for the taking. “You… love me?” His voice was barely a whisper, disbelief and hope warring in his gaze.
You squeezed his hand tighter. “Yes, you big dramatic dragon, I do. I love you exactly as you are.” Then, unable to resist, you smiled and added, “You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. And, if I’m being honest, I think you make a perfect Prince Charming.”
At that, he let out a surprised chuckle, one that you felt all the way to your heart. The rain began to lighten outside, but Malleus wasn’t finished yet. “But… would you truly want to come with me to Briar Valley after graduation?” he asked, searching your face, as if afraid the answer might change.
Your lips curved into a teasing smile. “Is that a proposal, Malleus?”
He blinked, looking at you with such intense sincerity that it made you catch your breath. “Perhaps it is… if that is what you desire.”
You couldn’t help it; you laughed, reaching up to touch his cheek. “Malleus, let’s take this one step at a time. It’s a little too early for marriage, but yes… I’ll come with you. No hesitation.”
Relief washed over his face, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he let out a long, contented sigh. Then, before you knew it, he was cupping your face gently, pulling you close, and pressing his lips softly against yours, his touch filled with both relief and quiet joy. You melted into the kiss, feeling the world around you fall away.
When you finally pulled back, you stayed wrapped up in each other, Malleus resting his forehead against yours. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice as soft as the rain beginning to stop outside.
And then, as if by magic, the sun began to peek through the clouds. You glanced out the window and gasped—a beautiful rainbow stretched across the sky, its colors bright and vivid against the softening gray.
Outside in the hallway, Lilia noticed the sudden sunlight flooding through the windows. He smirked, crossing his arms as he gazed out at the sky. “Well now,” he murmured to himself with a knowing smile. “It seems the storm has finally passed.”
Briar Valley's winding paths had become second nature to you. From the thorn-laden trees to the misty moors, it was all oddly comforting now, a world you’d somehow made your own despite the constant whispers of “That magicless human will last a month, tops.”
Yet here you were, strolling with Silver and Grim by your side, perfectly at ease as the Fae here had learned to both respect you and—surprisingly enough—grow fond of you. Perhaps it was your persistence, or maybe the sight of how Malleus practically glowed around you had softened their opinion. Regardless, Silver’s calm, quiet presence made the walk feel almost peaceful.
Silver’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Would you take a detour with me for a moment?”
“Uh… sure.” You raised an eyebrow but couldn’t ignore the curiosity blooming inside.
Grim, still trotting alongside you, glanced up with a huff. “If it’s not back to the palace for a feast, count me out. I’m starving!”
He took you off the main path, weaving through a side route cloaked in the kinds of flowers that only seemed to bloom under the moonlight, until you reached the garden.
You noticed the unmistakable glimmer of fae lights strung up along the branches, casting an enchanting glow. Beneath them was a breathtaking arrangement: intricate flowers, delicate linens, and candles flickering gently as if they held their own breath, waiting.
“Silver… what’s this?” you turned to him, only to find he’d vanished, leaving you alone. Grim, however, was very much there, sitting and squinting at the setup as if trying to make sense of it.
“You think he’d at least stick around to explain,” Grim muttered, tail twitching.
Your heart raced, realizing exactly what this setup meant before even seeing him.
And then, as if stepping straight out of a fairytale, Malleus appeared. His dark attire blended almost seamlessly into the night, but his eyes were alive with a glint that made him stand out against everything else. You swallowed, feeling your pulse thud as he lowered himself onto one knee, reaching out to you with a small velvet box in hand.
“Will you—”
You were already nodding so vigorously that he chuckled, his deep voice warm and delighted as he tried to finish. “I have barely started, my love.”
“Sorry, sorry! I’m listening,” you said, though your feet were already itching to close the distance.
“Will you marry me?” His voice was low, intimate, every word wrapping around you as if sealing the two of you together. You swore the whole garden held its breath as the weight of his question sank in.
“Yes!” You practically launched yourself into his arms, the momentum nearly sending him off balance. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed a kiss to his lips, almost dizzy with excitement. He held you firmly, and you could feel his smile against your mouth as he returned the kiss, slow and heartfelt.
When you finally pulled back, catching your breath, you heard the sound of clapping—raucous, joyous applause. Looking over, you spotted Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and Grim, all watching with varying degrees of excitement. Lilia wore a proud, delighted grin, and even Silver looked softer than usual.
Sebek, meanwhile, was visibly struggling to hold back tears, sniffing and blinking rapidly. “My prince… has found his beloved…”
Lilia cackled, nudging him with a wicked grin. “Oh, Sebek! Who would’ve thought you’d be the emotional one? How poetic!”
“I am not emotional!” Sebek said, wiping his eyes. “I’m simply… moved by the occasion!”
Silver shook his head, though his smile remained gentle as he murmured, “Welcome to the family.”
And then there was Grim, who was glaring daggers at anyone who dared glance in his direction. “Pfft… it’s… it’s not like I care, or anything. Dust got in my eyes, that’s all,” he grumbled, pawing at his face, though his sniffling was obvious.
“Oh, Grim,” you laughed, reaching over to scratch behind his ears. He let out a small, begrudging purr, though he immediately caught himself and huffed, turning his back on you all with an indignant “Hmph.”
Malleus turned to them, unable to hide his own joy as he held you close. “Thank you, all of you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. Your eyes twinkle with mischief as you add, “I suppose you three can’t get rid of me now.”
Malleus chuckles, and Lilia grinned, placing a hand on his chest as he gave you a dramatic bow. “We wouldn’t dream of it. I mean, you’re the only one who’s managed to survive here, make Malleus happy, and deal with Sebek. That alone earns you a medal.”
Sebek opened his mouth, clearly ready to defend himself, but Silver beat him to it with a subtle nudge. “Come on, Sebek. You know it’s true.”
“Fine, but—” Sebek cut himself off with a sigh, his expression softening once more. “I am happy for you, truly.”
You beamed, touched by the sincerity in his voice. You knew Sebek’s respect wasn’t easy to earn, but it made the moment even more meaningful.
Lilia clapped his hands together, eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh, the Briar Valley will be singing tales of this day for centuries. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Lilia,” Malleus said, a warning in his tone. “Please don’t exaggerate.”
“Oh, I don’t need to exaggerate,” Lilia said with a gleeful grin, his eyes alight with a hundred mischievous ideas. “You’ve done that for me by being your overly poetic self. ‘The magicless one who tamed the dragon prince’ will practically write itself.”
“Perhaps we could skip the ‘taming’ part,” you muttered, blushing at Lilia’s teasing. But you caught Malleus’s gaze, and the depth of emotion there silenced everything else.
He pulled you close, his forehead resting gently against yours. “We can let them say whatever they wish,” he murmured, his voice for your ears alone. “So long as you’re by my side.”
“Always,” you whispered back, and as his arms held you close, you glanced over to see the others clapping and cheering—and yes, even Grim was sitting proudly beside Silver, nodding as if this had all been his doing.
The future had never looked brighter.
1k Masterlist ; Main Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#malleus draconia x reader#twst malleus#malleus draconia x you#malleus x reader#malleus draconia#malleus
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The couple chosen by the fans
Kimi Antonelli x fem reader
Summary: The fans bring Yn and Kimi together with a little help from outside.
Face: people on Pinterest, and the driver.
Warning: fluff, Instagram AU.
A/N: Guys, I’m sorry but today is my last day of vacation. Tomorrow I’ll go back to school, so I won’t be able to publish fanfiction every day.
Masterlist
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Yn_sainz
Description: Tell me you're a fan of F1 without telling me you're a fan of F1. I'll start.
Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and other 98,453.
carlossainz55: Say it, that I'm your favorite driver.
landonorris: Sorry to contradict you, but everyone knows it's me. ❤️ Like to author
charles_leclerc: Thanks, Yn, now Carlos will start bragging.
Yn_sainz: You're welcome, don't mention it.
georgerussell63: I like your dress.
❤️ Like to author
Yn_sainz: Thanks, it's the one we bought together.
carlossainz55: George, I'm keeping an eye on you.
Lover: We all know Yn will always side with her big brother.
55_: They're beautiful.
Hotchili: Guys, have you seen the video where they argue in Spanish?
16and55: Yes, it's adorable. They're so cute.
Carlos.norris: Carlos was talking so fast.
Formula: Too fast. Even I, who am Spanish, couldn't understand him.
lovef1race: I want those bracelets too.
gr63_: Let's go buy beads to make them right away.
kimi.antonelli
Description: Today was a fantastic race despite the difficulties. Thanks to everyone, and now let's celebrate my first place.
Liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, and other 9,384,93.
f1lover: Kimi, I love you.
Race: You were amazing, a beautiful race.
vroom: We are all so proud of you, Kimi.
georgerussell63: Congrats to my future teammate.
❤️ Like to author
lewishamilton: I couldn't be happier to have you replace me. ❤️ Like to author
mercedesmylife: Kimi, do you know Yn Sainz?
kimylover: If I'm not mistaken, she's around his age.
12_: Yes, she's very kind and friendly with the fans.
kimi12: Yes, and she speaks Italian too.
georgerussell63: 😁
63_44: He got it!
gr63: George, you have a task.
hotchili: Carlos is going to kill him.
Yn_sainz
Description: Today they decided to sabotage all my photos.
Liked by charles_leclerc, kimi.antonelli, and other 743,736.
carlossainz55: This isn't ruining them, it's adding something extra.
charles_leclerc: Plus, we look great, hermana
Yn_sainz: OK, never try to speak Spanish again.
oscarpiastri: The last photo is beautiful.
❤️ Like to author
landonorris: Thanks to me.
Yn_sainz: Yes, because Carlos doesn't know how to take photos.
carlossainz55: Did you decide to hate me today?
Yn_sainz: Yes, and I will until you win.
charles_leclerc: Yn, don't go to the enemies.
Yn_sainz: If I don't go, they're the ones who come to me.
oscarpiastri: You better build a barricade.
mercedelover: The face of Toto Wolff though.
f1life: But even Charles and Carlos really tried.
Q3: Maybe it's the day of silly faces, and we didn't know.
Kimimylife: Guys, am I the only one who noticed Kimi's like?
georgerussell63
Description: Subject one has arrived.
Liked by lewishamilton, landonorris, and other 56,635,353.
f1lover: Go, George!
race: Just a little longer.
vroom: Imagine what a crazy couple they'd make.
kimylover: Kimi is so cute.
gr63_: He knows.
63_44: George's face in the last photo says it all.
lewishamilton: That’s the "you’ll thank me soon" face. ❤️ Like to author
kimi.antonelli: For what, exactly?
georgerussell63: You'll understand soon.
ferrarifan: We want the video of when they meet.
12_: Absolutely!
geroge_: Please, George Russell, listen to our requests.
landonorris
Description: Subject two retrieved.
Liked by Yn_sainz, georgerussell63, and other 736,636,542.
Ln4: Oh my God, Carlos is going to kill you.
gr63: Lando is part of the plan too.
lan_: Poor Yn, she’s not understanding anything right now.
Yn_sainz: Indeed, I’m not understanding.
landonorris: Everyone, be quiet.
charles_leclerc: The first one who talks will have their tickets revoked. ❤️ Like to author
f1lover: So everyone knows?
charles_leclerc: Except for one person.
georgerussell63: We even got Toto involved. ❤️ Like to author
Yn_sainz: Guys, you're scaring me.
carlossainz55: Take off that shirt now.
oscarpiastri: Let her have fun. ❤️ Like to author
landonorris: My shirt looks great on her.
carlossainz55: I don’t care.
carlos.norris: Carlos doesn’t ask questions.
carlossainz55: Why should I?
charles_leclerc: Exactly, why should he?
Yn_sainz
Description: Maybe I owe you all a thank you.
Liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, and other 7,378,863
f1lover: Wait, what do you mean?
race: Did it really happen?
vroom: Now we’re going to find out it wasn’t Kimi.
gr63: But we know they’ve met.
kimimylife: That bracelet looks way too much like Kimi's.
12_: I agree, but lots of guys wear those types of bracelets.
charles_leclerc: I didn’t know, but I suspected.
❤️ Like to author
carlossainz55: I approve, but hands off. ❤️ Like to author
georgerussell63: The spark had ignited. ❤️ Like to author
landonorris: Are you trying a soft launch, Yn?
Yn_sainz: Yes, so keep quiet.
63_44: No guys, please tell us.
lan_: Lando, I beg you.
Yn_sainz
Description: I could spend my life listening to you talk.
Liked by landonorris, kimi.antonelli, and other 9,384,93.
landonorris: Okay guys, before Yn notices, her boyfriend is...
Yn_sainz: LANDO!
carlossainz55: Lando, I know where you live. ❤️ Like to author
landonorris: Plan failed.
f1lover: Okay guys, it’s clearly Kimi.
12_: Come on guys, it’s him, you’ve seen the posts.
gr63_: Yeah, and Yn was on a date with a guy a few hours ago.
vroom: Guys, we sound like stalkers.
63_44: That’s what we are.
hotchili: Anyway, in the last photo, the guy’s eyes are brown, and guess who else has brown eyes?
6312: Ummm Kimi Antonelli.
Ferrarifan: True!
KimiandYn: Come on Yn, this isn’t funny. We want to know who it is.
Kimimybaby: We’ve already figured you two out.
oscarpiastri: I don’t think she’ll give in so easily. ❤️ Like to author
kimimylife: Yn and Kimi, we hate you.
Yn_sainz
Description: You're great stalkers, you've figured us out.
Liked by kimi.antonelli, carlossainz55, and other 9,384,93.
kimi.antonelli: Wait, when did you take the second-to-last photo?
carlossainz55: First lesson: never fall asleep in the presence of my sister. ❤️ Like to author
charles_leclerc: It didn’t take a genius to figure out you two were together.
Yn_sainz: But you asked me ten times because you couldn’t tell if I was joking.
georgerussell63: My favorite couple.
landonorris: I knew you wouldn’t manage a soft launch.
Yn_sainz: Actually, I’m a very patient person.
oscarpiastri: Yn, we all know you were dying to show him off.
lewishamilton: We’ve set Kimi up for life.
Yn_sainz: I’ll never let him go.
carlossainz55: Run while you still can.
kimi.antonelli: For now, it's tolerable.
Yn_sainz: At this point, I wish you hated Kimi.
carlossainz55: Too bad for you, sis.
f1lover: The first couple created by the fans.
Charlesss: They’re so beautiful!
vroom: I hoped for it, but I can’t believe it.
63_44: Believe it, it’s all true!
landonorris: I have the video of when Yn saw Kimi for the first time.
charles_leclerc: I'll give you 10 euros if you send it to me.
landonorris: Sent.
Yn_sainz: The moment I see you both, I'm going to strangle you.
#formula 1#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula one imagine#f1 x reader#fanfiiction#f1 drivers x reader#f1 drivers#andrea kimi antonelli x reader#kimi antonelli x reader#kimi antonelli#andrea kimi antonelli#ka12#f1#f2
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hii do you write for franco? if yes can i request a fic where reader is short and insecure about her height so she’s afraid their relationship won’t survive his “f1 career” cause of the lifestyle and all the girls he’s going to meet so despite really loving him she tries to breakup with him but he won’t let her?
tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine 𖦹 FC43
PAIRINGS: franco colapinto x female!reader
SUMMARY: when you found out that franco will be racing for williams racing, you were so proud of him. though at the back of your mind, you can’t help but overthink about your relationship with him now that he’s finally in f1.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi! thank you so much for sending your request. it’s my first time writing for franco, but i really had fun. i hope you’ll like this one and it’s up to what you were expecting. enjoy! :)
REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.
WORD COUNT: 1.6k
WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, insecurities (mostly comparing self to others), cursing, low self esteem, overthinking, anxiety, and no use of y/n
As you stand in the Williams garage, you can clearly hear the hum of the whole circuit buzzing all around, and you can’t help but feel so proud. Franco had just achieved what he had been dreaming of since childhood—his first official race in Formula 1. It should have been one of the happiest moments of your life, watching him stand there, helmet in hand, chatting animatedly with the engineers, that wide grin plastered on his face. You knew how hard he worked for this, how many nights you spent listening to his dreams, encouraging him through the frustrations of karting, and celebrating every win, every milestone. You were there through it all, and here he was now—your Franco, living his dream.
However, alongside the pride that you were feeling, a bitter feeling also crept in. It had been lurking at the back of your mind for days now, only growing stronger with each passing moment. It was not about Franco’s career, but more about where you fit into his new world. The glitz and glamor, cameras that seemed to follow every move, the polished and perfect people that surrounded him—people you had never imagined yourself fitting in with.
Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, had been nothing but sweet to you all weekend. You bonded with her quickly, her kind words and warmth is a welcoming comfort amidst the chaos. Yet, as much as you liked her, being around someone so gorgeous and effortlessly poised had only made you feel even smaller. You weren’t tall or glamorous like her or the other WAGs, nor were you used to the attention, and you barely have a successful career. You were just…you. A university student trying to get by through her classes, someone who barely knew what to do when a camera pointed your way, and someone who couldn’t help but wonder if you were truly cut out for this kind of life.
When Franco finally made his way back to you, you could hardly breathe. He greeted you with that same wide smile and a soft tender kiss on the lips, his eyes still sparkling from the thrill of the race.
“Can you believe it?” He laughed, pulling you into a hug. “I can’t believe I just raced in F1. This is really insane.”
You smiled weakly, arms wrapped around him. Trying to steady your racing heart. “I’m so proud of you,” you murmured against his chest. But the words felt heavy, there was something you needed to say, something you dreaded.
After the media frenzy died down and the team began to clear out, you knew it was time. You asked Franco if the two of you can go to his driver’s room, away from the lights, cameras, and the noise. He nodded and led you towards his driver’s room, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside of you.
When you reached his driver’s room, he locked the room to give you two some privacy. Franco quickly sensed that something was off with you, immediately frowning.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, as your hands shook as you fumbled with the words. “Franco…I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Do what?” His voice is gentle but confused.
“This. All of this.” You gestured around vaguely. “I don’t belong in this kind of world. I don’t look like the other girls in this kind environment, I don’t act like them. I just feel like…I’m not cut out for this, you know. For you.”
He blinked at you, and then—he laughed. A soft incredulous sound that only made your chest tighten. “You’re joking, right?” But you just shook your head, throat tightening painfully. “I’m serious, Franco.”
His smile faltered, eyes searching your face, and then he grew serious. “You’re breaking up with me?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing at all.
You bit your lip, feeling your resolve crack under the weight of his words. “I think I have to.”
Franco stepped closer, shaking his head in disbelief. “No. No way. Hell no. You’re not doing this.” He grabbed your hands, holding them tightly. “Tell me why. What’s really going on?”
You stared at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. How could you even tell him? How could you put into words the overwhelming insecurities that you had been drowning in.
“I’m not enough for this life, for your life,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “I’m just…me. You deserve someone who can handle all of this, someone who doesn’t feel like they are drowning every time the cameras turn their way. I’m scared that this will change us, that it will change you.”
Franco squeezed your hands tighter, forcing you to look at him. “You’re scared?” He asked softly. “Of what exactly? That I’ll stop loving you because I’m in F1 now?”
You nodded, chest tightening as tears began to fill your eyes. “I’m not like them, Franco. I don’t belong here.”
He pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. “Listen to me, and you listen well,” he whispered. “You’ve been with me through everything, literally everything. Since my karting days. You’re the one I want with me, not some random model, not someone from this kind of environment. You.” He gently cupped your face, making sure that you were looking directly into his eyes. “I’m not breaking up with you. Not because of this, not because of anything. I love you so much. If this life makes you uncomfortable, we’ll figure it out. Together.”
You shook your head, still overwhelmed with doubts. “But I don’t know how to—”
“I don’t care,” he interrupted softly. “I don’t really care about any of that. All I care about is you. I’m not losing you just because you think that you’re not enough. You’ve always been more than enough for me.”
Tears finally spilled over, and Franco wiped them away with his thumb. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, okay?” He added.
You let out a choked laugh, burying your face in his chest. “Okay,” you whispered, feeling the weight of your fears slowly start to lift.
Franco kissed the top of your head as he kept you close, his voice soft but firm. “Look at me,” he said, lifting your chin so your eyes met his. “There’s no one else I see in my future but you. No one else who matters like you do. I don’t care about the noise or what other people say. Let them talk all they want, I don’t give a shit. You’re the most important person in my life.”
His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket chasing away the chill of insecurity. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered, how much you wanted to believe him. “But people will judge, Franco. They already are.”
Franco shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care about them. They don’t know you like I do. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and I’ve loved you through it all. That’s what matters, not their opinions.”
You bit your lip, trying to push away the lingering doubts. “It’s just I don’t want to hold you back. You deserve someone who—”
“I already have someone I deserve,” he cut you off, voice unwavering. “You’ve been there for me through everything, you believed in me when no one else did, even when I wasn’t sure I believed in myself. I’m not letting you go because of some stupid insecurities about fitting in with this world. I don’t need someone from this world. All I need is you.”
Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from doubt or fear. They were from the overwhelming love you felt at that moment. “You’re sure?” You whispered, voice trembling. “You’re really sure?”
Franco smiled, the kind of smile that made everything else melt away. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You’re my future, not them. Not anything else. Just you.”
As you stood there in his arms, you let yourself believe it. Because the way he looked at you, the way he spoke, it left no room for any doubts. You were the one he wanted, and that was enough.
After a long moment of silence, just feeling the comfort of being in his arms, you finally pulled back, wiping the last of your tears and giving him a small and sweet smile. The tension that had been weighing on you had lifted, already been replaced by the familiar warmth you always felt around Franco.
You wrinkled your nose playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “Okay, as sweet as this moment is, you really need to freshen up. You stink.” You teased, giving him a playful nudge.
Franco let out a laugh, the sound light and easy. “What? No way, I smell like pure victory,” he grinned, pulling you back into his arms, purposely trying to rub his post-race sweat on you.
“Franco!” You squealed, trying to push him away. “Ew, Franco! You’re all sweaty!”
He laughed harder, his arms tightening around you for a second before he finally let you go, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll go and freshen up,” he said, his grin still wide. “But don’t think I didn’t notice how you were crying on me. If anything, you owe me for that.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, fine. I’ll owe you. Just go clean up before I regret taking you back,” you teased, earning an exaggerated gasp from him.
Franco winked at you before heading off to freshen up, not forgetting to steal a kiss from you. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ve got plans for us to celebrate.” He threw a playful look over his shoulder.
You shook your head with a laugh, feeling lighter than you had in days. The doubts that once felt overwhelming now seemed small in comparison to the love you shared. Franco was right—together, you could figure out everything, just like how you both always do.
#bie’s asks#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#franco colapinto#franco colapinto 43#fc43#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto x female!reader#franco colapinto fic#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto one shot#fc43 x reader
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