#In the end I managed to turn that feeling around and write for a ship so small that I don’t expect many people to care enough to read it

[honnelander]

go fish! part 2

guyssss i did NOT expect this little series to blow up. y'all are amazing! i'm turning into a Sanji writing blog and am i mad about it? no lmao i received a couple of requests and i'll work on them as soon as i can. i'm really in the zone rn so i'll ride this wave as long as i can. if you want to be a part of the taglist for whenever i post new Sanji content, lmk. i hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2.8k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: after being humiliated by Usopp earlier, reader stays in her room to decompress. however, she gets a visitor.

prequel part 1 part 3 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @jovialcat123

Mortified. That’s how you felt. Still. 

Ever since you ‘forfeited’ from finishing your Go Fish card game with Usopp a couple of hours ago, you had taken your glass of water that Sanji had poured for you and boarded up in your shared room with Nami, refusing to come out due to “heat exhaustion”. 

Poor Luffy, ever the golden hearted captain, was immediately worried for your wellbeing as soon as he heard that but after multiple reassurances from you and getting up off of your hammock multiple times to prove you were in fact, just fine, he relented from wanting to stop by the nearest island so he could find a doctor for you. Usopp had managed to convince him as well that all you needed was some water, alone time, and that you would be fine by dinnertime. 

You rubbed your eyes as you let out a sigh, vowing to yourself that the next time you wanted some time by yourself, you should just take a bath or something, since any other excuse would cause someone on the crew (Luffy) to lose their mind at the thought of someone not feeling well. 

You readjusted yourself, sitting more upright, as you downed the last of your water, it being warm by this point since it had been poured by Sanji hours ago. 

Sanji. Ugh.  

Your heart fluttered once again at the mere thought of him, but that flutter was immediately replaced by a wave of crashing embarrassment at the thought of the afternoon’s sequence of events. What had happened earlier wasn’t even anything that groundbreaking or special, but to you? It was everything. It wasn’t common practice in your life for the object of your affections to be so kind towards you, so thoughtful, to read and anticipate your needs before you even knew they were even there. But Sanji? He was all of that and more. And you didn’t even know him for that long! You’ve all been a part of the straw-hat crew for 5 months at this point and it felt silly to admit to yourself that you had developed a crush on one of your crewmates in that short amount of time. 

And having feelings for your crewmate? Someone who you literally couldn’t get away from since you all were trapped on a ship together (not that you would ever want to be away from him or anyone else for that matter, besides Usopp, but still), it felt morally wrong. You guys were all a team. Sure, you all were off to sail around the world and chase dreams, but achieving all of that required teamwork and trust, and that was hard to do if two of those people were caught up with matters of the heart every hour of every day. 

Like, what if things didn’t work out in the end? Would you really want to put the crew’s dynamic at stake just because you thought the blonde guy was cute? No, you wouldn’t. It would be selfish so you would never dare to put yourself or Sanji in that position. No matter how much you liked him. 

So as much as it pained you, you could never tell Sanji how you feel. You would never cross that line of being a ‘professional pirate’ into something more, like a pirate wife. Or a pirate chef’s wife. 

It definitely didn’t help that freaking Usopp of all people on the crew knew about your affections for Sanji. Ugh, you groaned. He was the absolute worst person to know about it too. Why did he have to figure it out? Why did he have to be the one that had put two and two together to equal four? That your random bouts of awkwardness and shyness plus ‘heart eyes’ and blushes whenever Sanji was around equaled to you having a forbidden crush on the crew’s chef? It was embarrassing. And complicated.  

He loved to stir the pot too, so whenever he could tease you for it when you both were alone or in front of a clueless Sanji, he would. You remembered the kiss he had shared with Kayla back when the straw-hats had acquired the Going Merry, so you definitely jabbed him right back when you had had enough, since part of you felt guilty for it since Kayla was thousands of miles away and Sanji lived on this ship with you. Your situations were slightly similar but completely different.  

Also, completely different in the way that him and Kayla were basically dating at this point, albeit long distance, and had shared a kiss while you could barely sustain eye contact that lasted more than 5 seconds with Sanji. 

You were hopeless. 

“Knock, knock,” a familiar accented voice came through the closed door. “Y/n? Are you awake?” 

"Sanji?” you blurted out in complete surprise.  

Shit. You weren’t mentally prepared to see him just yet. At all. You were still replaying the interaction you both had earlier in your head, your overthinking mind going over every minute detail to figure out if Usopp’s careless teasing had given away your affections.  

Usopp, you mentally ground out. You were going to kill him. Sanji had never stopped by your room before so what on earth was he doing here now?  

Suddenly, a thought struck you like a bolt of lightning and made your stomach drop fifty miles below sea level: if Sanji had specifically stopped by your room just to gently let you down, that no, in fact he did not feel the same way about you, that he only thought of you as a member of the crew and nothing more....then yeah, you were definitely going to kill Usopp and throw him overboard. 

Before you could mentally plot out more details on Usopp's murder, the door opened and the straw-hat chef’s blonde head appeared. His eyes quickly scanned Nami’s empty hammock on the room’s left side before turning his head to the right, his blue eyes immediately finding your surprised ones, a (relieved?) smile lighting up his face at the sight of you. 

“So, I take it you’re awake?” Sanji asked in a light, teasing tone but not making an effort to move himself away from the doorway. 

“Uh, y-eah,” you stuttered out in surprise as you just stared at him dumbfounded. You still couldn’t figure out why he was here. 

Sanji continued to lock eyes with you, making your cheeks flush the longer you both stared at each other, and your palms sweat as the silence stretched on, making the tension in the air become thicker by the second. He blinked, his eyes darting to the side in confusion, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “May I come in?” 

“OH! Yes, of course- sorry,” you stuttered as you waved him inside, sitting up in your hammock and mentally face palmed yourself. Of course, Sanji was waiting on you to invite him inside. Like always, he was acting like a true gentleman. “Please, come in. Have a seat. Sorry, that was rude of me. Make yourself at home.” 

Sanji stood up to his full height and walked into your room with an easy smile and a small laugh, closing the door behind him. “Ah, don’t ever apologize y/n. You could never be rude to me,” Sanji rebuttalled and waved off your apology as he looked around and took in your very plain and basic shared room with Nami.  

Your room, or side of the room more specifically, wasn’t much to brag about considering you really didn’t have much to your name but for now, it was home to you. Your side consisted of your hammock, a wooden barrel next to it to act as a makeshift nightstand that housed your only book, a journal, and a lamp, along with an empty wooden crate to act as a makeshift seat and another to hold some of your other clothes and small travel bag. Nami’s side was similar to yours but had a touch more personality as she hung up some maps she found at various markets and drew up herself on her wall. 

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious about the lack of things in your room considering your current guest was dressed, as usual, to the nines in his signature black suit and blue and white striped shirt complete with a skinny black tie. “Sorry for the sad state of my room-” 

“Sad?” Sanji stopped admiring your room and snapped his gaze to look at you. His eyebrows pulled together as another confused smile adorned his features. “Why would you say that? Your room isn’t sad, I like it. It’s a reflection of you,” his next words came out softer, “and I think that’s beautiful.” 

You could feel heat crawling up your neck at his words as you busied yourself with placing the empty glass in your hand on your barrel nightstand. There was no way Sanji was calling you beautiful, he was just commenting on your room. With Nami. On your shared room that owed any ounce of ‘personality’ to the ship’s navigator because it was obvious you literally brought nothing special to this room whatsoever.  

You stopped yourself from spiraling into ‘I don’t bring anything special to the straw-hats, I don’t know why they keep me around’ thoughts because now wasn’t the time to think about any of that. Those dark thoughts were reserved when you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night.  

As you placed the glass on the nightstand, you asked, “So, what brings you all the way to my room? Aren’t you usually prepping for dinner around this time?” 

Sanji’s eyes followed your hand and lit up when he saw the sole book on your nightstand. “Oh, a book? I didn’t know you liked to read.” His megawatt smile lit up a couple of notches as his eyes sparkled, he looked like he had just learned one of the universe’s greatest mysteries as he took a seat near you on an empty crate. “What book is that?” 

“Oh, that?” You mentally deflated at the fact you now had to tell Sanji about your favorite book, “It’s Pride and Prejudice.”  

You weren’t ashamed of having that book specifically, you loved it and it was your favorite book of all time, you had lost count at how many times you had read it at this point, but it was the fact that you now had to share this part of yourself with the guy you fancied. Guys normally scoffed and turned their nose up at romance book and romantic things, so you were bracing for Sanji to scoff and laugh at you like all the other guys did (like even Zoro and Usopp did when they first saw you reading it) but it never came. 

Instead, Sanji’s smile remained bright. “Ah, so you’re a lover of classic romances? Pride and Prejudice? Romeo and Juliet?” 

Immediately, you smiled, finding yourself instantly comfortable suddenly whenever you got to talk about one of your favorite things. “Absolutely. I don’t think there’s a problem big enough out there that love can’t solve. Family backgrounds? Wealth and status? At the end of the day, none of that stuff matters. What matters is if two people love each other.” 

Sanji stayed quiet for a moment, looking into your eyes with a twinkle of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. It made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, never breaking eye contact. “I agree.” 

You swallowed. “You like this stuff too? Have you read Pride and Prejudice?” 

Sanji blinked and that indescribable emotion he had in his eyes was gone. His smile remained, however, and became sheepish as he held up his hands, “Ah ok, you caught me. I’ve never read the full thing, but I know the main parts of the story. My favorite part that I did read though, was the first dinner with Mr. Collins and he complimented the Bennets on their ‘excellent boiled potatoes’.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head slightly as you teased, “I should’ve known that the chef of the Going Merry’s favorite part of the book is when food is discussed!” 

The blonde cook held his hands up again with a good-natured laugh, “Ah, you got me!” His face softened as he asked, “What about you?" He nodded towards the book. "What’s your favorite part?” 

You paused for a second as you mulled the question over. “Well, I'm not sure if you know about this part since you never read the book...” 

“Try me,” he encouraged softly. 

Your face turned to the side, your eyes looking at the wooden wall to your right, unable to bring yourself to look at Sanji as you told him your favorite part of your favorite book. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and calm your nerves, your voice becoming quiet as you told him, “My favorite part is...when Mr. Darcy barges in on Elizabeth for the first time, while she’s at her friend Charlotte’s house writing a letter. He had come to practice ‘conversating’ with her since he admitted that it wasn’t something he was good at and she had told him to practice it. So, Mr. Darcy just barged in and they had one of the most painfully awkward conversations ever...and he did all that just because he loves her. He did something he hated and was bad at, and opened himself up to embarrassment just because he wanted to improve and be better for her. It’s so romantic and beautiful.” 

The air was quiet after your mini monologue and for a moment, nothing could be heard except for their quiet breathing and the occasional crash of the ocean from outside your small window. 

Part of you worried that your little rambling had bored Sanji, so when you finally looked at him, imagine your surprise when you found him leaning in towards you, hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees and his eyes watching you, completely engaged. It was like he was hanging onto your every word. 

Sanji scanned your face for a moment, the corner of his lips curling upwards as he said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not familiar with that part in the book,” and before you could open your mouth to bring yourself down, he continued, “but, that doesn’t mean your answer is wrong.” He leaned back and slapped his hands against his thighs, “Hell, it’s a much more insightful answer than mine!” He laughed. “I just liked how they were poking some fun at boiled potatoes.” 

You laughed with him because yes, that part in the book also made you laugh as well. But at the mention of food, you realized that you still didn’t know why Sanji was here in the first place. Wasn’t he normally prepping for dinner at this time? He had to be running behind schedule at this point. 

“Why are you here, Sanji? Isn’t it almost time for dinner?” 

“Yeah, it is actually but I heard you weren’t feeling well so I wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re feeling alright and see if you have any special requests for dinner?” 

You couldn’t help the slight smile that overtook your face, trying to hide the blush at the fact that he was kind enough to check in on you and offer to practically be your own personal chef for the evening. 

You hummed for a moment, acting like you were deep in thought before asking with a raised eyebrow, "And what would you say if I requested some boiled potatoes?”  

The smile that lit up the chef’s face was priceless. He had never looked more beautiful. “To that, I would say ‘Absolutely. If that’s what the missus wants, then that is what the missus will get.’” 

Missus. There it was again. You felt all warm inside whenever he called you that, it made you feel like he was your husband and that you were his wife. But that wasn’t the case. Sanji definitely must have called other women that before. You weren’t special to him, he was just being polite.  

You swallowed down your emotions, putting your sudden wave of sadness away for later, putting on a small smile. “Then that sounds perfect. I would like to formally request some ‘excellent boiled potatoes’ as a side for dinner, please.” 

If Sanji noticed your sudden change in mood, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grinned as he said, “Excellent choice, Madam. Boiled potatoes, coming right up.” As he stood up and made his way towards your door, Sanji did one of the most unexpected things that nearly knocked the wind out of you. With his left hand on the doorknob he said, “And don’t worry, Madam. I’ll sprinkle in a little bit of extra love in there,” he turned and winked at you, “just for you.” 

With that, Sanji left your room, gently closing the door behind him, leaving you completely dumbstruck in your room, your mouth agape and body frozen. 

Did Sanji just say he loved you? 

You shook your head, because there was no way he did, right? He said he’d ‘sprinkle in some extra love’ into your potatoes, not 'I love you". You weren’t a chef, maybe that was a euphemism for something. 

You sighed.  

Those better be some good boiled potatoes. 

[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 5 - Better

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

Hi! I'm sorry this took so long, work has been kicking my bum lately and I haven't had much writing time. But it's here - the final part! I hope you like it. Thanks to everyone who has reblogged/commented/engaged with this story - it means so much. Thank-you!!

💔

One week later…

You were cleaning tables when you glanced at the diner’s clock and realised it was almost 9am. Friday was here once again…

…Would he be in as usual?

It was raining heavily outside, throughout the early shift your regulars had rushed in and shaken the sogginess off their coats and umbrellas once they were safely over the threshold of the diner. You’d chatted with them, commiserating with them about ‘this damn weather’ and promising to warm them up with coffee and breakfast.

You’d spent your time off this last week popping into the hospital to see Lou. He was doing well, making progress, but the road to recovery was long. He needed to make major adjustments to his lifestyle and potentially engage in physical therapy as they think he’d also had a small stroke. He got his personal mail delivered to the diner and asked you to open it and keep him updated with anything pressing. The medical bills you’d seen were already dizzying and his insurance only covered part of it, but you couldn’t bother him what that just yet – he didn’t need the stress on top of everything else. You’d figure it out. You always did.

Lou had made you acting manager to pick up the slack while he was gone. You were pulling extra hours, working overtime to ensure the ship remained afloat while the captain remained on the shore. It was tough, but you couldn’t deny you loved the buzz of being in charge – of keeping everything moving.

You hadn’t seen Bucky since that night at the hospital. He’d insisted on driving you home after you’d said goodbye to Lou, ignoring your protests that the subway was perfectly fine…

“The subway, doll? Fuck no. Not on my watch”.

You’d rolled your eyes, knowing you didn’t have the energy to fight him after the evening you’d had. He knew it too. You’d merely sighed and hopped into the back of his SUV as you gave him your new address, giving a little wave to Clint who was driving.

The two of you sat in the back in silence for the entire journey, you watched the city flying past you from the window and it felt strange that the outside world was just continuing around you like normal while yours had almost collapsed.

The car rolled to a stop in front of your building, and you turned to Bucky. He seemed to be studying you carefully, concern drawn across his features. Even after all this time and distance, the beauty of his face still took your breath away at times.

“Thank-you…for the ride. For dinner. For showing up…all of it,” you said softly.

He nodded stoically, “always. Look…no matter what happens between us, I’ll always show up for you if you need me. Any time, any place. And Lou is going to be just fine, alright?”

Almost instinctively you found your hand sliding across the leather of the seat towards him. He looked down as your hand moved to find his. You clasped your fingers around his metal digits, the cool sensation against your skin was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. They in turn wrapped around yours and the two of you sat holding hands for a short while. You didn’t speak or look at each other, just both existing in the moment and concentrating on the feeling of your hands entwined. You paused, wanting to say more – but unable to quite find the words.

Eventually you couldn’t bear the strange tension in the air. You gently withdrew your hand and cleared your throat as you shuffled across the seat towards the door.

“Well, thanks again. And for the ride, too”.

“Anytime. Nice building…” he peered out of the window at your apartment block.

“Ah yeah, thanks,” you said proudly.

“You doing okay, living there?” he asked quizzically in his Brooklyn-lilt, his brows furrowed.

“Mm…I mean, it’s not as fancy as your place,” you chuckled, “it’s kinda cramped and small, but it’s cosy and warm. And it’s mine,” you told him with fondness.

He smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “My place was yours too, you know”.

You chewed on your lip, you hadn’t intended it as a slight against him. “I-I know Buck…but…you know what I meant”.

He nodded reluctantly. “Yeah…that’s good. I’m pleased for you, really”. His nose crinkled as he looked at you fondly. It was a little mannerism of his that you’d missed.

You shared a small smile before getting out of the car and heading inside. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to look back at the car, a storm of emotions fighting to escape you. Your fatigue mixed with your anxieties about Lou, confusion about this sudden shift with Bucky now swelling. You could tell from the quiet behind you that the car hadn’t pulled away yet, no doubt waiting until you were safely off the street. You put your key in the door and quickly moved inside.

That was last week. You hadn’t spoken to him since, although you’d wondered if you should reach out. You thought he might’ve been in touch – a text, a call, but nothing. It was nice, he was leaving the ball in your court and not crowding you, respecting the boundaries you’d established. But part of you couldn’t shake the small sense of disappointment that lingered, too.

The fact was you couldn’t deny that something was stirring. Bucky, who you’d long written off and blacklisted for his betrayal, had started to be on your mind more and more. He had crept back into your brain.

You didn’t believe the old adage that time healed all wounds, but it had certainly helped. The space you’d had from him a year on from the incident had allowed you to find yourself again, the parts that you hadn’t realised you’d lost after diving headfirst into your relationship with Bucky. You still felt immense pain when you thought about what happened…but you also thought about how he had been true to his word. He hadn’t tried to force you back, not aggressively pursuing you or trying to talk you round. His weekly mornings at the diner had never felt pointed or manipulative. You believed that he was just happy to have you in his life, like he’d said. You’d since found your own place, started therapy and looked at your own issues, thrown yourself into work. Remembered who you were before you were ‘mob boss girlfriend’. You knew that what had happened with Bucky was not your fault, it wasn’t your job to reflect and change accordingly – that was all his. But still, having the space and time to work on yourself…it was refreshing. One small silver lining on this ugly, black cloud.

You’d also been on a few dates over the last few months. Nothing to write home about. A few nice guys, a few less than nice guys. Nothing had truly sparked for you; nobody had piqued your interest enough to want to really explore more than a few dinners or coffees. Maybe it was because of how things ended with Bucky, or you just hadn’t met someone right for you, or maybe you were just off dating altogether…But it wasn’t something you felt real enthusiasm for at this point. But that was okay. It had been fun to dip your toe back in the dating pool, and you weren’t averse to trying again when the moment was right, or you met the right person.

Unless of course, it was because someone else was on your mind.

Your slow burn friendship with Bucky had crept on you, taken you by surprise. The man who had once broken your heart now had a new place in your life. It was strange, but in some ways, you knew him better than you had when you were together. Despite your previous connection - your conversations had opened territory up you’d never covered together before, previously too caught up in passion and heat to dive as deeply as you had now.

And most importantly, he had shown up for you that night at the hospital, been there for you without you needing to ask. He had brought you dinner and stayed by your side without a word, because he knew you needed not to be alone – needed support. You were touched by his care for you, his willingness to clear his schedule for you at the drop of a hat. It meant a lot. It meant everything. He had intuited how you felt and acted immediately. He was there.

You didn’t know what it meant, if anything. Something had changed, the safe barrier of diner breakfast chats had been crossed. Part of you was panicking – no! Don’t let him get close, not again! Remember what he did! But another part of you had missed him deeply, longed to hold him again and wake up to him each morning. Your thoughts were a spiralling mass of contradictions and conflict, nothing made sense.

You weren’t sure if you could ever truly forgive him for what happened.

But could you try?

Roscoe snapped you out of your thoughts as he passed you the latest batch mail on his way by. You thanked him, flicking through the junk mail until your attention was caught by the hospital logo on one of the envelopes. You winced, tentatively ripping open the paper as you braced yourself for the latest bill.

You cursed under your breath as you unveiled the total figure, a stupid amount of money. You spiralled as it sank in, wondering if Lou would have to sell the diner in order to settle his debt. You knew he didn’t have anywhere near enough in his savings. You thought about all the jobs that could be at stake, including yours, and your heart ached most of all knowing that the restaurant was Lou’s baby. It would break him to give it up.

Maybe you could call them, sort out a payment plan…something?

You tried to calm yourself down, thinking about what your therapist would say about your immediate jump to the worst-case scenario. Relax. You can fix this. Remember your mindfulness exercises. Life would find a way.

The opening of the front door pulled you from your catastrophising. You glanced over, making eye contact with a rather damp Bucky as he entered the diner. He sighed, shaking the rain from his coat as he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“A lovely morning…” he muttered, deadpan.

You smiled, stuffing the hospital bill into your apron pocket and going to grab the coffee jug, “Morning, Buck. Get a little wet?”

“A little,” he gruffed, slotting himself into his usual booth.

You chuckled as you filled up his mug.

“How’s Lou?” he asked, shaking the rain from his hair.

“He’s doing better, thanks for asking. They’ve got a whole treatment plan worked out for him - so that’s positive”.

“Good. Glad to hear. You over here running the show while he’s out?”

“Something like that,” you smiled, then shuffled on your feet as you realised you needed to talk to him. “Bucky, I-”

A loud clatter and exclamation from the kitchen cut you off, causing you both to look over at the disturbance. You sighed with exasperation.

“Ah. Duty calls…I’ll put your order in while I’m in there”.

You rushed off to sort out whatever mess waited for you in the kitchen as Bucky smiled playfully at your annoyance.

He noticed something had fallen out of your apron as you dashed off. A piece of paper. He leaned over to pick it off the floor for you in case you needed it. Before he realised it was private and had a chance to look away, his eyes were immediately drawn to the monstrous sum at the bottom of the page. Ah. He grimaced as he quickly put two and two together, folding the paper neatly and leaving it on the table. He took a sip of his coffee.

You appeared a little while later with his order, sighing heavily as you placed the plate in front of him.

“Sorry about that…Roscoe and Ron were fighting about if the bacon was too crispy, and some trays got caught up in the carnage. Never a dull moment around here…”

You suddenly noticed the paper on the table, your words trailing off as your eyes locked onto it. You snatched it away quickly, shoving it into your apron.

“That’s not…that’s-” you floundered, embarrassed for him to have seen it.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop. You dropped it, so I picked it up and then realised what it was,” he explained softly.

“It’s fine. I’m dealing with it,” you shrugged, desperate to appear nonchalant.

“Sit down, doll”, he said sternly.

You scoffed, “Bucky…I’m busy running a restaurant here…”

He paused, looked up and bellowed across the diner, “Roscoe! Ron! Handle things while your boss takes a break!”

You rolled your eyes, turning to see Roscoe and Ron nodding furiously as they scattered and suddenly started working harder than you’d ever seen them. They had always been afraid of Bucky. You stifled a laugh.

“Problem solved, now sit,” he gestured.

You reluctantly sat down opposite him, “Bucky…”

“We’re gonna talk”.

“I don’t need-”

“No. Let’s do this”, he said sternly.

You folded your arms in front of you, fully aware that you resembled a petulant teenager but not caring enough to stop.

Bucky cleared his throat, taking a sip of his coffee before picking up the letter. “Now, I don’t want to overstep…but I can take care of this you know…”

You shook your head. “No. Thanks for the offer, but no,” you told him firmly.

“Alright. That’s fine. So, Lou has enough to cover it?” he asked, “all of it?”

You nodded a bit too quickly, “mmhmm”.

Bucky caught it immediately, your lie. You noticed the quirk of his brow and the subtle rubbing of his lips together. Damn him.

“Well, that’s a relief,” he sipped his coffee again and ate a few forkfuls of his meal, then wiped his mouth with a napkin and tilted his head quizzically. “Guess it’s all wrapped up, then”.

You nodded again in agreement, but knew he wasn’t done.

He took his time, casually taking a few more bites of his breakfast and sipping his coffee. You knew his relaxed demeanour was a careful façade…you had somehow found yourself at the centre of a famed Bucky Barnes interrogation.

You tried to appear relaxed, as if you had nothing more to add.

“Because…” he started.

Ugh.

“…because, if he didn’t have enough. That would be a problem, wouldn’t it?”

“Mmm. It would. But it’s not…so…”

“Right”, he cut you off. “But if he didn’t – great eggs today by the way – if he didn’t, that would be putting this place at risk, right? All the staff here and their jobs. Your job?”

“Right,” you replied, your voice a little strained.

“And of course Lou himself…he loves this place. It’s his baby. I’m sure he’d be devastated if he had to give it up to pay his medical bills. Especially as the last thing he needs right now is more stress and financial worries on top of his ill health”. He paused again to eat, not even looking up.

You nodded; your eyes now slightly cloudy now.

“Yep…” you said meekly.

He looked up at you, his eyes intensely locked onto yours, gesturing towards you with the fork. He was in full swing now. The diner suddenly felt much hotter, you could feel tiny beads of sweat forming on your forehead and the back of your neck.

“And I hope it would be known, if that was the case of course, that my offer would have no strings attached. Because I could imagine someone might decline it out of pride, or concern that it would have conditions and that person would then be in some sort of debt to me…either financially or emotionally. And if that was the case, I’d want to reassure them that it would only be a friend looking out for a friend, helping because I want to, and I can, and God knows I should do something nice once in a while to even out my moral scales…”

The barrier broke and your tears finally escaped, the stress about Lou and this intimidating bill, and your confusion about how you felt for Bucky, all finally coming to the surface. You cupped your face in your hands as you quietly sobbed.

“I’m sorry, I just…I…”

Bucky moved like lightning, whipping around to your side of the booth as he swung in next to you.

“Hey…hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to be clear what my offer entailed; but I understand why you’d be reluctant to accept my help”.

He pulled a few napkins from the dispenser and tenderly wiped away your tears.

“It wouldn’t be a loan, doll, and you wouldn’t need to make nice with me to say thanks. You could call me an asshole and dump these eggs on my head, and I’d still pay in full with a smile. There’s no expectation here, no contract – legal or implied”.

You sniffed, looking up at him blearily, “you’d really do all that for me…but…why?”

He paused, then very delicately used his thumb to collect the tears forming at the side of your eye.

“You know why,” he said plainly.

Your heart panged, and you looked down at your hands in your lap, clutching at one of the now-soggy napkins he’d given you. You sniffed again as you regained your composure, suddenly feeling exposed in front of him. The two of you stared at one another for a few moments and you were so desperate to tell him everything, but you couldn’t form the words. You hoped he would elaborate and fill in that gap for you, but he didn’t.

He quietly got up, putting on his coat and placing some bills down on the table to cover his check. He leaned over and kissed you on the crown of your head, then used a finger to tilt your chin up to look at him.

“You don’t have to decide anything now,” he told you as he looked into your eyes, “Think it over. I’ll be back here next week like always”.

He smiled at you, then disappeared out into the street. You heard the roaring of the rain outside as the diner door opened, the little bell above the frame chiming to announce his departure.

You missed him already.

You looked down at the hospital bill in your hands, the total at the bottom practically screaming from the page.

He’d hurt you so badly, you weren’t sure if you could ever fully forgive him for that fateful night. You understood it had been his insecurities, you understood he had lashed out after he thought his worst fears were realised – but that had only even explained his actions, not justified them.

Although…he’d always been there over the last year. Slow and steady, but he’d taken the time to rebuild his relationship with you platonically. He’d let you manage the pace, never tried to force anything more than you were willing to give him.

…and he’d been there for you.

He continued to be there for you.

It wasn’t about the money. He wasn’t trying to pay you off to win favour. He was just trying to be there for you, and this was something he had the power and resources to help you with.

He was your friend.

He loved you. He’d continued to love you…

“Are you back off break, boss?” Roscoe rudely interrupted your train of thought, “Ron said that the fryer-”

You were pulling off your apron before your brain could even catch up with your body.

“Nope,” you shot back, firing out of the booth at full speed as you tossed the apron at him on your way out, “a little longer…”

You left Roscoe gawping in your wake as you sailed through the front door. You yelped in shock as you stepped out into the downpour, you’d forgotten about the mini storm happening beyond the restaurant doors. It was so dark outside it looked more like early evening than the morning hours. You looked down at your immediately soaked uniform, your work shoes flooding as you traipsed through the puddles…

Focus!

You surveyed the street, your eyes catching a brief glimpse of the SUV turning the corner. The instantly recognisable JBB107 plates drawing your focus in the split second before they vanished.

And so you ran.

You sprinted after the SUV waving your arms, shouting for it to stop. A concerned elderly lady asked if you were okay but you sailed on by. You must’ve looked utterly insane.

You rounded the corner and rushed up behind the SUV as it slowed. The back door flew open, and Bucky suddenly appeared out of it, a look of horror on his face as the vehicle pulled over.

“Doll! Jesus Christ, what the- are you okay??” he shouted to you as you approached.

You didn’t answer, just flung yourself inside the car as you desperately tried to catch your breath. Bucky slid across the seat to give you room. The divider screen was up so you couldn’t see the driver. One less person to witness your mortifying display, at least.

“Fuck…you must be freezing,” he muttered as he pulled off his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders and leaning over to close the car door behind you.

You were, your teeth chattered. Your hair was wet and matted, your uniform soaked through.

“Bucky…” you said hoarsely as you dripped all over his plush car interior.

“What is it, doll?” he asked, his eyes wide and alarmed, “what’s going on??”

You couldn’t find the words so you acted purely on instinct, you cupped his face and kissed him. Kissed him hard. Kissed him longingly. He caught up quickly and kissed you back, his fingers tangled in your soaking hair. It was desperate, messy. Your teeth clashed and your cheeks bumped. It had been so long that you’d lost each other’s rhythm with this. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. You couldn’t have waited any longer.

He pulled away, gawping at you incredulously as he held your face in his hands.

“Doll…does this mean?”

“Let’s go slow,” you whispered, “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. The effort you’ve put into rebuilding us from the ground up…for being my friend…for never pushing me…for Lou…but I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into this headfirst…whatever this is…”

He nodded, “of course, anything you want”.

“I’m not sure if I can…fully forgive. But I want to try,” you told him softly as you pressed your forehead to his.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as he sighed. A sigh of long held tension, of relief.

“Thank-you for giving me a chance…I didn’t think you ever would again,” he admitted.

“Yeah…well neither did I,” you laughed,

“What changed your mind?”

“Well…. how you showed up for me with Lou has made me rethink a lot of things. Plus…the money”.

He laughed, “the money? Really? This whole time I just needed to pay you off?”

“No…”, You rolled your eyes, “it was more that you offered, but you didn’t force anything, and you made it clear it was no strings attached. It’s like…you want to help me, but you trust me to make my own decisions and don’t just try and fix it all for me, like you used to. I just…it made me realise how much I’ve missed you. But it’s gotta be different this time…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…like…I want to stay in my apartment. And I want to keep my job,” you said firmly.

He nodded, “yeah. Of course”.

“Maybe I’d move back in with you one day…but I want my space”.

“Okay. You got it,”.

You smiled, “yeah?”

He smiled back at you, the smile that still made you weak at the knees. “Doll? If it means you’re by my side…Of course ‘yeah’. Anything you want. And I have some conditions too…”

“What?” you frowned. “This isn’t exactly a two-way negotiation, Buck…”

“Just…listen. They’re conditions for me. I promise I’m going to trust you entirely, and to communicate you with you properly – not let my emotions get the best of me. I’m a different man to who I was the last time we were together. I know how lucky I am to get this second chance with you. I’m not fucking it up. I'm gonna be...better”.

He spoke earnestly with such conviction that it was almost aggressive. You nodded gently, squeezing his hand. You believed him.

“Alright…well, let’s give it a shot, shall we?”

He grinned, “I can’t believe you’re here…”

“Me neither. But…I’m sorry I’m dripping rainwater all over your car”.

He shrugged. “Fuck the car”.

And then he kissed you again.

Maybe you did believe in happy endings.

THE END

There we have it! I hope you liked where it went. I know some of you didn't think she should ever forgive him and I understand, and I'm sorry if you're disappointed! But in my eyes he had shown her he was willing to change...and she wasn't trying to rush back into anything heavy. Thank you for reading!

If you liked this story, please consider supporting me with my Ko-Fi link 💐

[daistea]

First Burn — Mithrun x F!Reader

“You have a choice, Captain. You don’t have to follow me around if there’s something else you’d rather be doing.”

“There is something else I’d rather be doing,” he admitted with a slow nod.

—

post-canon, spoilers for Mithrun’s story

7000 words :0

NSFW! pls interact responsibly. No minors.

Disclaimer: I do not know how to write smut :)

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Recently, the world had stopped on its axis. Dungeons collapsed, entire countries burst up from the sea, and Mithrun of the House of Kerensil decided to try.

And he would spend the rest of his life trying. Sometimes, he succeeded. Sometimes, he did not. The other week, he felt an inkling in his chest that he translated as a new desire— for bread. A desire for fresh bread. You proceeded to fulfill his desire, because that’s what you’d decided.

You tried, too. You tried hard. Sometimes, you succeeded. Sometimes, you did not. And judging by the barely-there expression of annoyance on Mithrun’s face, you had a feeling that today would be the latter.

“You don’t have to stay,” you said. While the street around you was crowded and bustling, the space between you and Mithrun felt private, quiet. He was lost in that secret space until your words yanked him back to reality.

You watched as his brows furrowed and a little line formed between them. His good eye searched your face as if looking for answers, but he had to know what you meant. If he wanted to go, then he could go.

It seemed to be the kind of day where he didn’t want anything. He was a ghost lingering at your back, pulled through the hours by some invisible string that kept him tied to you. On his worst days, he viewed himself as an anchor dragging behind your ship. Yet, you never cut that line. You wouldn’t dare.

Without an ounce of hesitation, you met his face. The line between his brow had disappeared, but Mithrun’s usual apathy was weaker, softer. Again, you said, “You have a choice, Captain. You don’t have to follow me around if there’s something else you’d rather be doing.”

“There is something else I’d rather be doing,” he admitted with a slow nod.

You perked up. You offered him the choice to leave simply because Mithrun deserved to have choices, though you knew that if he wasn’t following you then he’d most likely end up spending the day staring at the ceiling of his home. It was one of those days. When his brain decided to comply, he would keep himself busy with a hobby, or he’d visit the palace, or search for monsters on the outskirts of the city. He didn’t always need your company to keep himself functioning.

Yet, the fact that there was something he wanted to do was enough to make you smile. “That’s great,” you turned to face him fully. You had a basket of vegetables hanging off your arm as you and Mithrun stood in front of a merchant stall. Another customer approached and you placed a hand on Mithrun’s arm to gently guide your bodies out of the way. The streets of Melini had become crowded as of late, with more tourists coming to see the newly risen country.

“I suppose it is,” he agreed. He glanced down at your hand on his arm, following your fingers as you pulled them away and rested them on the handle of the basket. Then, his good eye flickered back up to your face.

“So,” you rocked back and forth on your heels, “what is it? Anything I can help with?”

The apathy instantly disappeared. Mithrun raised his brows and tilted his head, his good eye widening in thought. “Yes, actually. I want to have sex. With you.”

You froze.

Despite his words, the world still spun and time still flowed. It was offensive how nothing came crashing down for you, how the planet’s rotation didn’t stop to allow you a moment to comprehend Mithrun’s words.

Heat curled in your lower abdomen. Your throat went dry and you let out a soft exhale. All you could manage in response was, “Huh?”

Mithrun gave a quick nod and looked at you as if you were a bit stupid. “Now.”

Now. The hair on the back of your arms stood to attention. “Huh?”

“That’s what I want,” he slowly explained, “pay for the food and let's go.”

You had no choice but to close your eyes and block out the street sounds. “Wait. I thought you were having a bad day.”

“Hmm… No. I think you’re mistaking me being contemplative for me struggling.”

Right. Okay. Contemplative, that was the face he made when he was contemplating something. Something like sex. With you. Now.

Mithrun wrapped his fingers around your wrist. His skin was cold but his touch was like fire. He pulled, urging.

You yanked yourself free, “No.”

And he blinked in surprise, “You don’t want to?”

“No,” you corrected, “I mean, yes.”

“What?”

“I mean–” you groaned and ran your fingers through your hair, “I want to, believe me. I want to. But not like this.”

Mithrun’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly. The apathy returned in full-force. He wasn’t hurt, you knew, but he also wasn’t used to having one of his few desires rejected, especially by you. “Alright, I won’t force you.”

A flicker of panic passed through your chest. You grabbed his arm to stop him from wandering off, “I’m not saying no, Mithrun. I’m saying that— Well, that I have standards.”

He glanced at you, “Standards.”

It wasn’t a question. “Yes. Standards. It’s really not arousing to just be told ‘I want to have sex with you’.”

“Oh,” he nodded, the tiniest amount of realization dawning on his face, “I see. You want to be romanced and seduced.”

Truthfully, you wanted to shrivel and die. You would’ve liked to melt into the cracks on the sidewalk and hide in the darkness forever. Romanced. Seduced. Mithrun wasn’t judging you, but you were certainly judging you.

“Not exactly. I just mean that the time has to be right. We can’t plan these things,” you explained. The heat you had initially felt from his offer was replaced by cold, unpleasant dread. Mithrun was the one who so bluntly brought up the subject of sex, yet you were the one panicking and overthinking things.

“Alright,” again, he brushed it off with the least amount of effort. You wanted to smack him for the cavalier attitude, though you knew he couldn’t help it. Mithrun would most likely spend the rest of the day feeling perfectly calm, without a hint of awkwardness, while you slowly drowned in the flood of your own thoughts.

Except—

Except, as Mithrun turned away to continue the task of vegetable shopping, you saw his right hand flex. He curled his long fingers in, and out, then made a fist before stuffing it into the pocket of his coat.

It didn’t have to mean anything.

You weren’t technically a couple. Despite how emotionally intertwined you were with him, you’d never kissed.

Yet, he wanted you. He specified, Mithrun didn’t want sex with just anyone. He wanted it with you. That was his new desire.

Without a second thought, you let the basket on your arm slide off and hit the ground. Then, you grabbed the sleeve of his coat. He glanced at you, stopping mid-step and allowing you to softly yank him closer.

Mithrun knew. He wasn’t as connected to his emotions as some, but he knew what you were doing. He placed his left hand on your hip, the other still in his pocket. And as he leaned in, meeting you halfway, your panic and anxiety melted like ice beneath the sun. He pressed his lips against yours and you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Whatever your body did from then on was not your decision. Your arms snaked around his neck and you tangled your fingers into the soft hair behind his head.

Both of you knew this moment would come. He was yours, you were his. That had always been the case. Mithrun simply hadn’t had any desire to be physical before. Yet, with the way he pressed against you, now both hands on your hips as he gently walked you backward until your back hit a wall, it was clear. Somehow, in some way, the desire for physical intimacy had returned. Whether you had anything to do with that or not was a mystery, but there was no time to question that. He had needs and wants and there was nothing more important in that moment than fulfilling them.

The rest of the world faded away. Your knees grew weak as you realized that it was finally happening; Mithrun had made such progress. He had a desire, and the fact that the desire concerned you made warmth spread through your body.

Another kiss, then another, while gasps and pants between presses of your lips consumed the space around you. You lowered one hand away from his shoulder and rested it on his chest. Mithrun pushed further until he was the only thing holding you up, keeping you on your feet. His fingers splayed across your back and gripped your clothes. Your chest rose and fell with desperate attempts to get air without breaking contact. If it was possible to melt together, to erase every centimeter of room between your bodies, you and Mithrun would’ve found a way.

His hips brushed against yours. It was barely there, but easily identifiable— a hardness beneath his trousers. Flames within you burst into life and threatened to consume you whole.

“We–” through the fog of sheer want, you managed to grab hold of a sliver of logic, “we can’t do this here.”

Mithrun paused. He still held you, but slowly lifted his face. His lips separated from yours with a soft sound. You already missed the feeling of his mouth. It was cold and empty without him. He glanced out at the street, at the passersby who were pointedly not looking in your general direction.

He shrugged, “I don’t really care,” and returned his attention to you, leaning in again.

You pressed your palm against his face to keep him at bay, “Nope. No way. I care, and we’re not doing this here.”

With an annoyed exhale, he brushed your hand aside, “Fine. Then where?”

The heat in your abdomen was slowly dying down. The realization that most likely a fourth of Melini had seen you and the Captain making out in an alleyway was enough to dampen your fire.

You untangled your arms from his shoulders, trying to pull back. His grip on you resisted until you sent him a half-hearted glare. Only then did he let go and raise his hands to signify that you were free. Yet, as you turned to leave, he instantly grabbed you again.

“Where?” He repeated, his good eye narrowing.

“Nowhere!” You shot back, then paused, “Well, somewhere. But we can’t plan these things, they have to happen naturally, when the time feels correct.”

“Right now certainly feels correct to me.”

“I’ve got things to do,” you complained while you slipped out of his grip once more. You didn’t mean to be so difficult, but the lingering dread of making out in a public alleyway, combined with the fact that your armpits were a bit sweaty, killed every ounce of arousal within. You picked up the basket of veggies and sent Mithrun an apologetic smile, “I promise, we’ll try soon. I want you to be happy and to do these kinds of things, but this is more serious than, like, a food craving or something.”

“Objectively, I’m aware,” he answered, his tone clipped.

“You’re just horny,” you finished for him.

“Unbearably horny.”

What progress! “Good for you,” you patted his arm and smiled, “I’m proud!”

He made a face. You hoped that your imitation of a mother praising her child for a good grade would ease his newfound lust for at least a bit, at least until you could match his energy.

However, Mithrun still clung to you for the next hour. When you stopped to discuss a price with a merchant, Mithrun wrapped his arms around you from behind and nuzzled his face into your neck.

“Is now the right time?” He murmured.

And you brushed him off, because you had no desire to make everybody around you uncomfortable. (Mithrun did not care.)

“No,” was all you said.

He made a small, flat noise of disapproval. Despite your nature, you couldn’t help but smile. Torturing Mithrun made your heart skip a beat, it put you in a good mood.

You separated for the evening. Mithrun had resorted to giving you the silent treatment, which only raised your amusement to new heights. As you watched him turn to walk home without so much as a goodbye, with his barely disguised brooding and glare, a flicker of power passed through you. Admittedly, you were tempted to spend the night in his bed. But you were more tempted by the possibility of teasing him to the brink of his control, of seeing him overcome and ruffled and desperate.

Another curl of heat in your abdomen took your breath away. You forced yourself to turn, to retreat. Good things come to those who wait.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

But it was midnight and waiting was no longer an option. Only several hours had passed since you’d last seen Mithrun, but his words refused to leave your mind.

‘I want to have sex. With you.’

There was absolutely nothing romantic about them. He didn’t use a sultry voice. He spoke those two sentences as if he was reading items off a grocery list. And it was so out of the blue.

Yet, the fact that they were from him, from someone who so rarely felt desire, was special. Without trying, Mithrun had branded the words onto your brain with a hot iron. And that heat traveled down your body like a spreading fire until it burned and pulsed between your legs, growing more urgent with every passing contemplation.

You needed to know: how did he come to realize that desire? What changed? Did he simply wake up that morning in the mood for sex? Had he been trying to cultivate that desire?

You laid in bed, your hands spread out over your chest, your eyes on the ceiling. Another throb of pleasant warmth between your legs made your lips part. Mithrun wanted you. Why didn’t you just give him what he wanted earlier?

Something began to build up inside of you. If you just had a little friction, a touch, it could burst forth and envelop you in warmth.

Your hand trailed down your stomach and—

And a loud clang from outside your bedroom window stopped you. You turned your head to look, hand halted mid-air as your flames began to dim.

In the darkness of the night, a shadow passed by the glass. Their features were blurred by the darkness, but they were tall, wide, and slowly stepping past your window. Your little cabin was on the outskirts of the town, and all of your neighbors were a half mile away. Your friends had always told you that it wasn’t safe for a single woman to live alone in such a vacant area.

Your blood ran cold as the shadow moved on towards your backyard. Instantly, you scrambled out of bed and through the house to make sure all your doors were locked. Another peek outside the window in the kitchen revealed that the figure had crossed the yard and was rifling through your garbage. At least they weren’t trying to get inside. Yet.

Breathless, with a racing heart and tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, you hurried back to the bedroom. You flicked a hand and your communication pixie twirled into existence. You didn’t give it any time to stretch and yawn from its slumber, grabbing it from mid-air and squeezing its little body.

Mana channeled through your veins. You attempted to shove aside the fear and imagine Mithrun, then frantically tapped the pixie’s head, “Mithrun!” You hissed.

A moment passed. No answer.

“Mithrun,” you insisted, your voice choking up. Air refused to travel through your lungs, and you started hyperventilating into your free hand.

Four seconds passed before you heard a soft sigh through the pixie’s mouth, “What is it?”

He sounded tired, groggy, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about waking him up. “I-I think someone’s stalking around my house. They haven’t tried to break in yet but I’m really freaked out—“

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he instantly said, sounding more awake.

And with Mithrun, he meant it. Walking regularly would take around fifteen minutes, since you lived several miles apart. Yet, when he was determined, he could teleport quickly enough to cross those miles within five minutes.

You quietly groaned and collapsed onto the edge of the bed, releasing your fairy— who sent you a worried look before twirling and disappearing into thin air.

There was nothing wrong with calling Mithrun for help, but embarrassment and dread settled into your stomach nonetheless. He’d prefer you call him with these types of situations, you knew. But you were capable too. You had helped save the world from the demon, yet some random shadowy figure in your backyard reduces you to tears? Pathetic.

It was simply an invasion, and you were in your night clothes and your weapon was thrown into the back of your closet somewhere. That was all. And the fact that the figure passed by your window when you were seconds away from pleasuring yourself made you want to throw up.

Another set of footsteps crunching down on the grass tore you from your thoughts. They were accompanied by a light spell which illuminated silver waves of hair and a dark cloak.

Relief flooded your chest, though you hesitated to let your guard drop entirely. You scrambled through the cabin and toward your kitchen window where you saw Mithrun silently crossing your yard towards the shadowy figure.

He paused mid-step. Then, he rested his hands on his hips. As his light spell floated over him, you caught a glimpse of what he looked at; brown feathers and a yellow beak, accompanied by the slithering of a snake.

A basilisk. It was just a basilisk digging through your garbage.

You couldn’t decide whether you wanted to collapse from relief, or scream from frustration.

Nonchalantly, Mithrun reached out a hand and tapped the chicken part on the back. It disappeared, and he wasted no time in turning around and heading for your back door. Despite your shaking hand and sick stomach, you unlocked the door and opened it to let him inside without a word. He dispelled the light spell and pulled off his cloak with a sigh.

“I’m so sorry,” you exhaled heavily, locking the door, “I should’ve just gone to check on my own.”

Mithrun sent you a blank glance, but as if he’d been caught by a hook, he did a subtle double take. His good eye flickered over your body, across your shoulders, down your thighs.. It took several seconds for his brain to catch up, “No… If that happens again, don’t go outside. I know you can take care of yourself, but I’d rather not risk it.”

He didn’t stop staring. The shamelessness of his gaze on your diaphanous nightdress made you heat up. The intruder was just a scavenging basilisk, you weren’t in any real danger, yet Mithrun had been so determined to help you.

As offensive as the whole situation was to your personal sense of feminism, it made your knees weak.

Mithrun finally looked away. He took a breath that made his chest rise and fall, his hands buried in the folds of his cloak. “I’ll go now, then.”

“No,” you argued before you could even think twice. You grabbed his arm to stop him. He was wearing a loose night tunic so different from the long sleeved, high necked outfits he usually chose. You’d seen his scars before, but it was so rare to touch his bare skin like that, to feel the soft texture beneath your fingers.

Mithrun raised a slight brow, “No?”

He wanted you.

You wanted him.

“Could you stay the night?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady, “I’d feel better with you near.”

Calling Mithrun to investigate potential attackers was one thing, but requiring his presence to help you sleep was beyond uncharacteristic. He knew exactly what you were doing, and he sent you a look that revealed precisely that.

But he also wasn’t one for complaining. He simply nodded and draped his cloak across the back of a chair, then pulled off his boots. With weak knees, you turned around to return to your bedroom. You wanted to be casual, to not be too hyper-aware of his presence following you down the hall.

Any other decent man would’ve politely asked if you’d rather he sleep on the couch. Mithrun was not other men, and he was only decent around 42% of the time.

You pulled back the sheets. The silence was consuming, but only to you, apparently. Mithrun remained cavalier as he slid onto the left side of the bed and pulled the sheets up around him. He sent you a blank look as if to ask why you were hesitating, why this moment was so monumental for you.

He knew exactly why, he was just being a jackass.

You crawled in. Before you could get comfortable, Mithrun snaked an arm around your waist and pulled your back against his chest. Your bodies molded together as he buried his nose in your hair.

Right down to business. He knew precisely what you wanted.

Your heart started to pound and heat flooded the space between your legs. Mithrun hadn’t wanted anything intimate in forty years. It was the least you could do to let him be a little greedy.

His hand slowly ran down the curve of your waist, brushing over the fabric of your night dress. Once he reached the hem, his fingers danced across your bare skin. He had rough callouses, and as he stroked your outer thigh, the scratch created from years of fighting sent tingles through your veins. The room was quiet save for your exhales, your attempts to control your breathing.

“I wonder,” Mithrun murmured, “did you know it was just a basilisk in your yard, and you used it as an excuse to get me to come over?”

You scoffed, “No. I was fully planning on drawing this whole thing out for longer, actually.”

He exhaled in annoyance, but despite the sharp sound, his hand rounded the curve of your thigh and brushed closer to the sensitive inner part. That warm pulsing between your legs returned. The slight twitch of his growing hardness against your ass was enough to send a wave of arousal through you.

His hand drew up, over your underwear, to your stomach. And while he did that, he pressed his lips against your neck.

“You’re-“ you tried to gather the scrambled pieces of your brain, “you’re surprisingly eager for someone who hasn’t wanted this in so long.”

Mithrun ran his lips down your neck, “I’ve been working on it.”

Spectacular. That answered your burning question. You tilted your head to give him more access as you spoke, “So you’ve been trying to regain the desire for intimacy?”

He nodded, “I have.”

“How so?”

“Just putting some thought into the matter,” Mithrun lightly dug his teeth into the crook of your neck, earning a soft gasp. Then, he continued, “Contemplating what it would be like. Focusing on you, looking at you. Physical stimulation.”

He spoke so clinically, yet the implications behind his answer sent a shiver trailing down your spine. “Physical stimulation?”

“It was hard, at first. Nothing much happened.”

“So… It wasn’t actually hard at first?”

Mithrun promptly pinched your side, but that only made you laugh more. When you didn’t stop giggling quickly enough for him, he dug his teeth into your shoulder and hooked a finger into the line of your underwear. That dimmed the amusement. Despite the interruption, you could feel him growing harder against your ass.

“Anyway,” he grumbled, kissing the spot he’d just bit, “it took some determination and focus.”

“Focus on what?”

You knew. You just wanted to hear him say it again.

“On you,” he pressed himself against you. His hand rose to cup your breast, and his thumb brushed over the hardened nipple.

The image of Mithrun trying to revive his sexual desire by thinking of you, by stroking himself as he focused on you, flickered through your mind. You couldn’t help but arch into his hand.

“How long have you been waiting to try it out?” You asked, breathless.

Mithrun’s hand left your chest. He sat up, and you rolled onto your back to look up at him as he pressed his palms into the mattress.

“A bit too long for my taste,” he said. The gravel in his voice was evident despite how calm he looked. Silver curls fell, framing his face.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away, not even for a second, “What do you want me to do?”

Mithrun tilted his head and raised his brows, looking a little thoughtful, “What do you mean?”

“Do you…” you paused and raised a hand to brush a lock of hair away. Then, you trailed your fingers down the jagged edges of his ear, and he closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “Do you want me to take the lead? Just to ease us into it?”

His good eye flickered open, “Another time. I’ve given this enough thought to understand exactly what I have to do.” He sat up and gripped the outer flesh of both your thighs. His fingers dug into your skin. You wanted more, you wanted him to hold you so tightly he left bruises, evidence.

“And?” You urged.

“I know that with the few things I want…” Mithrun’s hands slid over the tops of your thighs and to the inner curves, then he slowly spread you apart, just for him. “I have to put in the effort and work to get it.”

There was something so beautifully sinful about his hands on your inner thighs. He opened you up, laid you bare, invited himself in with full confidence that you wanted him there. Your core pulsed, aching to be filled. All you knew in that moment was Mithrun as he sat between your legs. His good eye flickered over your body. If he cared about any imperfections you had, he showed no indication. Rather, he looked slightly thoughtful, as if he were mapping out a battle strategy atop the landscape of your hips.

You couldn’t help but shiver beneath his stare. He glanced up at you, then back down, and hooked his fingers in the band of your underwear. His shoulders rose as he slid them down your thighs, the fabric a caress. You moved your legs to help shimmy them off before he tossed them aside and picked up your right thigh. Leaning down, Mithrun positioned your leg over his shoulder.

As realization burst through your warm haze, you sat up, “You don’t have to do that. I should be focusing on you—”

“Quiet,” Mithrun commanded. He dipped down, but paused, and his gaze flickered up to meet yours, “You’re already wet.”

Wonderful. He said it so casually, too, as if he was pointing out the weather.

You scowled despite the incessant pulsing in your core, “Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing,” he commented.

Usually, you could read Mithrun well. You knew his subtle indicators of emotion— the furrow of his brow, the slight widening or narrowing of his good eye, the twitch of his lips. However, whether he meant to or not, Mithrun’s book was shut for the moment. The closest emotion you could attach to him was analytical. Or rather, curious.

Still, you fought. The heat on your cheeks demanded that you go to war. “We don’t need to bother with me. I think that right now we should—”

Mithrun dipped down and flicked his tongue against your clit. Pleasure rippled up from your core and to your throat. You gasped, but he gave you no time, no mercy. He sucked at your clit, pushing and pulling and enveloping and stroking. Mithrun carried out intimacy much in the same way he fought: ruthless, relentless, disregarding what was right or wrong and focused solely on his goal.

It had been a while for you. You’d given yourself to Mithrun for so long that you never glanced at anybody else. You’d resigned yourself to a relationship with a lack of anything physical. You were okay with that. Mithrun wouldn’t care if you used your fingers, and you’d never ask him to do anything for you without his desire present.

Yet, he’d been trying. And he’d given it so much thought. And he increased in intensity as he stroked your clitoris with his tongue. You’d been writhing and gasping without realizing it, bucking your hips up in a desperate attempt to get even closer.

He let go of your thigh and pressed your hips deeper into the mattress. As his fingers dug into your skin, holding you down like leather straps, the pressure and pulsing and throbbing grew stronger. You ached to be filled. It was all you could do to grip the sheets and gasp for air.

“Mithrun,” you said, breathless. It felt right to say his name, as if that might make the moment feel any more real.

His good eye flickered up to you, but he instantly returned to his merciless attack. You watched as his shoulders tensed in his attempt to keep your hips down. He pulled back for half of a second to catch his breath before diving in with far more enthusiasm than you were used to from him.

The very fact that he wanted to pleasure you, that he was putting in the effort, that you could see the outline of his cock growing hard beneath his pants— it all built up like water filling a balloon. If he continued, the walls would burst and you’d be in ruins beneath his fingers and mouth.

Heat rose. Your muscles tensed and you planted your feet into the sheets, hoping to ground yourself before you floated away. Another intense caress of his tongue threatened to push you over the edge. You wanted it so badly. You wanted to fall, to be ruined by him. The fire within your abdomen started crawling through every inch of your body as you desperately tried to catch your breath.

“Mithrun,” you murmured again. It was louder, then. And, again. Again. His fingers dug further into your skin and you writhed helplessly. You were saying something, though you weren’t aware what it was. Another gasp, another flick of his tongue, and you were broken.

Mithrun rode out your orgasm with a surprising amount of patience. He opened his eye and watched from the spot between your legs as you threw your head back. While he had enough mercy to slow down in his ministrations, he licked up every bit of you that you had to offer. Your chest rose and fell. Your nipples were hard and poked through the thin fabric of your nightdress. Once you started to catch your breath, he pushed himself up, but that was where his mercy ended.

Mithrun gripped your arms and pulled you into a sitting position. He had to hold you to keep you from falling backwards onto the pillows. With one hand, he pulled the end of your nightdress up. “Off,” was all he said.

The command barely reached your ears, but you wanted to take it off anyway. You raised your arms and let him pull it over your head to toss it aside. Then, he yanked off his loose shirt. As you floated back down to reality, you took a deep breath— returning to the land of the sober just in time to catch Mithrun picking up the edges of the bed sheets and using them to wipe your slick off his mouth and chin.

You gasped, “Not the sheets!”

He pointedly ignored you as he lifted his hips and pulled down his trousers, though an ink-black eye lingered on your face, refusing to look anyway. His earlier curiosity was gone, replaced with determination you’d only rarely seen— once, when he encountered the demon. Another time when he couldn’t get a noodle recipe right.

Once his trousers were off, he shifted closer, between your legs. Hesitantly, you leaned back and rested your weight on your elbows. It felt wrong to blatantly ogle him, but the slopes of his arms and shoulders and the angle of his torso would surely haunt you all your days. He didn’t seem to mind, focused on his own endeavors. It was only when he held his dick and brushed it against your wet folds that you finally paid attention.

He rubbed the tip on your clitoris. You tensed, still sensitive, and raised a hand to cover your mouth as if that would be enough to stop the desperate sounds. Mithrun was experimenting, then. He was rarely careful, but he was analytical, smart enough to figure out what you liked. Again, he pressed his length against you and you couldn’t help but shudder.

“You’re very sensitive,” he observed.

Again, the asshole sounded like he was simply discussing the weather. You were crumbling and his demeanor sustained not even one crack.

You managed a glare, “I thought I told you not to tease me.” As if Mithrun ever teased anyone.

“Stop complaining,” he murmured as he snaked his hands beneath you and lifted your hips. Your insides throbbed for him, desperate, begging for him to fill you.

First, the tip. It sunk in like a massage on a sore muscle. Mithrun’s gaze dropped and he watched himself go further. You enveloped him. All he knew was you, your warmth, your wetness, clinging to him. He let out a shuddery exhale as he finally pressed himself inside entirely. His lips parted and he lifted your hips to pull you closer, though there was no more room left between your bodies to close.

His cock inside of you was like honey dripping onto your tongue. It was like silk. It was a several years long hunger finally being satiated. Mithrun thrusted experimentally and you couldn’t help but gasp from the sudden pulsing reverberating up your body.

“Move,” you begged, breathless.

“I—” Mithrun took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He still held your hips, but his hands quivered, “I can’t yet. Just give me a minute.”

His answer managed to pull you from the haze. He hadn’t had sex in forty years, of course he was sensitive. It was his first time feeling the warmth and wetness of a pussy in so long.

But, simply because you had a sadistic streak, you tightened your muscles to clench around him.

Mithrun’s head dropped. He tensed. His exhale was a shudder that racked his body, and he couldn’t help but grind against your hips in response. Finally, he was showing some response, some weakness. You bathed in the sight and feeling of pride. It was you who cracked him. It was your tightness that made him gasp and lose his mind.

He didn’t even need to move, and you were already addicted to having him inside of you. The look on his face, the flutter of his eye, the harsh press of his fingers; how could you ever stop?

But he took a deep breath and straightened himself out. Then, holding your hips, he slipped away, leaving you cold and empty. You sat up with the intent to complain, but he slammed back into you. Any words you had were instantly strangled into silence. His tip hit a sensitive spot, sparks ran up your body. With no warning, Mithrun began to relentlessly drive into you. Skin slapped against skin. Every thrust was yet another breath stolen from your lungs. And somehow, he hit the perfect spot each and every time.

You gasped his name. Mithrun’s lips were parted and his cheeks were flushed, but he looked up to meet your face. Without another word, he lifted his right hand and slid it between his hip and your thigh, then pressed two fingers against your clitoris and began to rub.

With just the simplest touch, he had you falling apart once more. You held desperate eye contact for a moment until you could no longer take it, until you had no choice but to shut your eyes. His name was a prayer on your lips. You praised him, reverential, letting him take you, own you, claim you. His touch was religion. Every time he filled you, you sunk deeper, indoctrinated. Mithrun pressed his fingers down harder and faster as you began to writhe once more. Another moan of his name was followed by a string of curses as the thrum within your core rose to unbearable levels.

“There,” Mithrun breathed out, “There you go. That’s my girl.”

You broke. He shattered you. You had no clue how loud you were, what you said. There was a few ‘fucks’ thrown in there, a few words of blasphemy and sin and pleading. The only sound that cut through your fog of pleasure was Mithrun’s hips snapping against yours even harder. He might leave bruises. He might leave you sore. You certainly hoped so.

Mithrun groaned your name. His hair fell into his face as he pressed both arms into the sheets. His right hand, still slick with evidence of your arousal, went to your face and lifted you into a hard kiss. His teeth knocked against yours but you were too lost to care. Another screw, another thrust, another slam against the most sensitive spot in the back of your body. You’d never come from just dick. You’d never orgasmed with so few rubs.

Mithrun repeated your name and his hips stuttered and—

Then, he buried his face against your neck and dug his teeth into your skin. You wrapped your arms around him to hold him close while he spilled inside of you. All you could think about was his seed coating your vagina, covering every inch while your walls milked him dry. He was yours. You wanted every ounce.

His thrusts slowed down and he caught his breath. You’d told yourself for years that it was okay to forego this kind of physical intimacy with him. You could handle that for the sake of being with Mithrun. Yet, now that you’d felt it, you couldn’t imagine ever parting with it. He was inside of you. He was holding you. He was bruising and marking and claiming you.

And he collapsed on top of you like a limp rag doll.

You let out an oof, “Get off. You’re too heavy.”

He only groaned into your shoulder, the sound muffled. Mithrun was absolutely boneless.

His dick slowly softened and slipped out of you naturally, though you already missed it. You would’ve gladly been his cock-warmer if he asked. You would’ve gladly allowed him to use your body beyond what was proper.

Holding him tightly, you buried your face into his hair. “I’ve got to go pee or else I’ll get a UTI,” you grumbled.

“Just… One more minute.”

One more minute. You wanted more than one, but you were also far too pragmatic to let yourself fall asleep with the threat of unbearable bladder pain on the horizon.

He was dead weight on your body, but it was grounding. If Mithrun ever thought of himself as an anchor, he might be right, though he greatly misunderstood the purpose of the role. Without an anchor, you’d drift endlessly. Without him, you’d lose a part of yourself.

Your soul slowly returned to your body as you patted his shoulder, “Come on, we’ve got to change the sheets too.”

“They’re fine,” he grumbled, another muffled sound.

“They’re gross.”

“It’s natural.”

“It smells.”

Mithrun lifted his head to shoot you an unamused stare, “Get used to it.”

You refused. For the moment, though, you would humor him. It was his first time fulfilling a new desire, a lack of complaints might be in order.

Mithrun rolled off your body and collapsed onto the spot next to you. With a contented sigh, you got out of bed and made toward the bathroom with him dripping down your thighs. The very thought made your knees weak.

After peeing and cleaning up— a shame, despite your concern for cleanliness— you returned to the bedroom to find Mithrun lying on his back in the bed. He had one hand on his forehead, his hair pushed away from his face and his good eye wide as it stared at the ceiling.

You tensed, “What’s wrong?”

“Please tell me you–” he sat up to pin you in place with an intense look, “tell me you’re taking some sort of birth control.”

You were. But all you could do was raise a brow, “You’re just now thinking about that?”

Mithrun looked a bit dead inside, more so than usual. “I was caught up in the moment.”

You decided to cut him some slack, “Yes, I’m on birth control herbs. Really, they’re just to control other things, since I haven’t had sex in years. But still.”

Slowly, his eyes closed. He nodded and lowered back to the pillows.

“Water?”

Another nod.

He lasted longer than you thought he would. He didn’t seem exhausted, though the adrenaline from his orgasm would most likely help him sleep. You brought water and he gratefully drank as you pulled the covers up over your body.

Mithrun set the glass down on the nightstand and sent you a glance. No words needed to be said. No grand gestures were required. He caught your cheek with his calloused hand and nudged you closer until your lips met. You tangled your fingers in his hair. Despite the monumental moment in your relationship, the air remained clear. Your comfort, the naturalness of it all, felt as if you’d been intimate for years, as if you were made for touching each other, as if your bodies were molds created specifically to fit together.

Still.

“Get up,” you demanded between kisses, “I’m changing the sheets.”

[bamfkeeper]

Drunk and hungover Kurt is a needy, whiny mess and you get to take care of him.

In a comic I read Kurt goes insane and drinks himself to a hangover and I wanted to write a fic about it. Turned out way longer than expected, it was supposed to be a funny little drabble lol. I came back to this at two different times so I hope it doesn't read as choppy.

Warnings: Alcohol use, hangovers, descriptions of vomiting, gender neutral reader, unedited.

WC: 2.5k

You had no idea where Kurt was during the Gala, he had gone off for another drink and he never came back. You searched around, finally finding him slumped on the floor. He hiccupped, his head lifted up and he was definitely dazed. "L-Lieeblinggg...." he slurred, his smile slanted as he tried to seem like he was totally fine...when he was clearly drunk.

"Kurt! How much have you had to drink??" You asked with a frown, you never really cared if he drank, but it seems that tonight he went crazy. He drank excessively and he was way over his limit. He could barely even hold his head up, god forbid he teleport anywhere.

"Come on..." you grunted after you received no response, "Let's get you back...you are gonna feel like shit in the morning." You managed to weasel your arm around his back and lift him up enough, his feet supporting him but he was like a large, weak dummy you were trying to puppet. "Kurt, please work with me..." you strained, jerking him up a little bit more.

He lifts his head up at the sound of voice, his expression looking completely dazed and drunk, his vision a bit woozy as he tries to focus on your face. Kurt takes a moment to process what you just said, the gears in his mind turning as he blinks a few times and eventually understands your words.

Kurt just ends up letting out a small chuckle, nuzzling the side of your face and clinging to you tighter, almost in a childlike manner. “Ach-“ he murmurs, his words slurred and his thick German accent sounding heavier than normal. “I can stand, mein Engel. Just fine.”

His feet shifted below him and he supported himself so you weren't struggling as much. Good. He was standing. Now came the hard part: getting him to walk.

"Okay...let's go. Time to get home..." You instructed calmly, you began to slowly take steps forward, his tail curling around your waist tightly. After walking for a few minutes he became fidgety, like a child wanting out of a carseat. You frowned and held onto him, "You can't walk on your own," you reasoned with him but he just shook his head.

He lets go of your arm to take a few steps forward, only to stagger and fall forward almost immediately. Kurt would’ve face planted, but thanks to his tail still wrapped around your leg, it prevented his fall completely and you had caught him by the waist before he could topple onto the concrete sidewalk.

"Goddamnit, Kurt! You almost ate the sidewalk!" you groaned and tried to pull him upright again, his feet nearly tripping over each other in his struggle to stand up again. "Please, please try to walk, I know you don't feel good, but I really need you to try. I don't have super strength..." Your reasoning fell on his ears and sounded like water slushing through one and out the other to him.

Kurt didn’t resist you pulling him closer to you, instead choosing to nuzzle his face into your shoulder once more, seemingly unconcerned by the fact he just almost took a nosedive into the sidewalk. His tail still has a firm grip on your leg, even as leans into you. He lets out another quiet chuckle as he clings onto you like a koala, mumbling into your shoulder.

After a long, very long, walk to your home, you managed to get him inside. It took a lot of effort on your end, since he was basically a ragdoll at the end of the walk. You dragged him into your home, watching him stand and sway like he were on a ship. "Sit," you guided, taking his shoes off since he clearly couldn't do anything on his own right now.

You moved to his clothes, slowly unbuttoning his extravagant outfit from the gala you attended that night. He's all over the place as you attempt to strip him out of his formal clothing, stumbling and nearly toppling to the floor more than once as you struggle to get his suit off of him. How he does this from a seated position, you will never know.

“If you wanted to take my clothes off, I would’ve let you sooner…” He mumbled, his drunken self still surprisingly cheeky and flirtatious even if he’s nearly out of it. You rolled your eyes a little bit, expecting him to be a little cheeky. When he did have a casual beer, he would drink just enough to be buzzed and he always got super flirty. But he was still sober enough to talk, walk, function like normal. Not like now.

"Kurt, hold still...I need to get you out of this for bed, no funny business. Bed only. To sleep." You successfully tug the suit jacket off and toss it aside, letting it hit the floor with a heavy thunking sound. He’s now only left in a thin, skin-tight white undershirt that leaves very little to the imagination, especially as it sticks to his abdomen and chest, the sleeves a bit ruffled and very pirate-esque.

He looks down at you through heavy lidded eyes, a smirk still on his face that’s half-hidden by the way he’s nuzzling the side of your neck. “Does that mean I can’t have any fun?”

"You are not having fun tonight, Kurt...you are incredibly drunk, and I wouldn't do that." You insisted back, frowning at him as you took his undershirt off. He murmurs something in German under his breath, a quiet stream of words that are nothing more than heated, drunken mumbles of affections.

Kurt’s hands wander to your hips now, gripping at the fabric of your clothes rather firmly as he tries to regain his balance. “You look so good…” He mumbles, one hand sliding lower. “I just want to touch…”

"Hey, no." Your hands pull his away, and you give him a stern look, "No, Kurt...you are drunk. You are going to get up and come to bed, for SLEEP." With some struggle, you finally got him up again and drug him to the bedroom, pulling the blankets back on the bed and looking back to see him swaying again.

"You're cruel..." he slurred out, his voice soft and pouty, "You know that..?"

"Mhm, so cruel that I drug you back home instead of leaving you all alone at that party to wake up hungover slumped against the wall." You replied plainly, gesturing to the bed. "Come on...bed."

You were pleased when he trudged over and sat down on the bed, letting out a huff as he plopped down. He looked up to you, his face blushed from his drunk affliction and his eyes weary. Your hand came up and ran through his hair, "Am I mean still? For taking care of you?" You questioned the poor blue mutant with a slight tease in your tone.

Kurt leaned his head into your hand, his yellow eyes fluttering closed and a low purr-like noise rumbling in his chest as you pet his head. Despite his protests and grievances, Kurt’s nothing less than a lovesick puppy.

"Ach, yes. You’re so mean to me, mein schatz.” He replies, sounding more sarcastic than sincerely annoyed as he speaks. He lets out another small groan, flopping backward and spreading out on the bed dramatically. Good...that saved you time. You pulled the covers over his body and tucked him in. Luckily once he actually laid down in bed, he passed out almost immediately. He gave a few more whines and moans, but with some coaxing he blacked out.

A quiet, half-hearted groan can be faintly heard from inside the room. Kurt has woken up, and unfortunately he wasn't feeling too great, as you predicted.

The first thing he notices is that you’re not next to him (which he isn’t happy about), and the second thing he notices is that he feels awful. His head is pounding and he feels nauseous, and judging by the way his stomach is twisting in knots…he follows his body's rapid urge and he throws the covers off him, stumbling out of the bed and rushing towards the bathroom.

Kurt let out a low, pained groan as he leaned over the toilet, his hand gripping the edge of the seat as he began to retch. He lets out a few dry heaves before bile comes up his throat, the acidic liquid burning and leaving him with a bitter, stinging taste in his mouth.

You heard this from the spare room, you decided to sleep there in case he tried anything in his drunken state. You didn't want him to realize he did anything and regret it, or whatever. You'd never want to cross that boundary and take advantage of him in any way, even if he seemed like he wanted to. You never knew if he did or not, it was basic sense not to do anything with someone who can't think clearly.

"Oh, Kurt..." you sighed seeing him curled over the toilet, walking up to him and rubbing his back. "Don't fight it...just let it out. It'll be over quicker if you let it happen."

Kurt’s stomach let out another loud ache as he retched into the toilet more, spitting up another string of bitter, burning bile. He lets out another low, pained groan as he does so, his tail drooping weakly behind him and his yellow eyes beginning to fill with a thin layer of tears.

A small shiver ran through him as you rubbed his back, his body leaning into your hand as he tried to even his breathing between bouts of being sick. “I feel like I’m dying…” He mumbles under his breath, his voice a pathetic whine as he tried to get as much comfort from you as possible.

His body shook with another painful gag and he once again threw up, a stream of bitter fluids coming up his throat and into the toilet. He let out a small grunt, his yellow eyes looking glassy and out of focus.

He’s trembling slightly, an uncomfortable cold shiver running through his entire body as he retches and coughs. He’s not holding back anymore, letting whatever is left in his stomach empty out. Eventually the dry heaving passes, and Kurt lets out a small groan of pain. “Hnnng…”

He throws up for ten minutes straight. Small intervals between each wave.

After several minutes of dry heaving, he rests his head on the rim of the toilet, breathing heavily between pants. His eyes close and his face flushes slightly with exertion, “Please…” He manages to get out in a quiet, pleading voice. “…make it stop….”

"You haven't thrown anything up for a little bit...I think you got it all, baby." You pulled him to sit up more, flushing the toilet and running a rag under the faucet to dampen it. "Just sit still if you can. A little clean up then you can lay back down, I promise."

You began to wipe his mouth with the rag, supporting him as much as possible but letting the wall he leaned into do most of the work. "That's it...now here, rinse with this and I'll help you back to bed."

He practically leaned his entire weight on you as you helped him up off the floor and led him to the sink. He spat out the rest of the bitter taste in his mouth before using the mouthwash as instructed. Kurt took the mouthwash you handed him and slowly began to gargle it. It almost made him throw up again, just from the act of gargling.

When he was done, you wrapped your arm around him and pulled him towards the bedroom. "Good job...come on. Back to bed okay? I have some water there for you." You were relieved he didn't protest when you guide him back to bed, he sits down on the edge, taking the glass of water you held out to him and quickly downing it.

Kurt lets out another small, pained groan. “…I feel awful.”

"I don't doubt it. You drank a lot. Beer, some whiskey and gin...then tequila shots." You recalled what one of your friends told you when you reached out, and Kurt whined loudly, holding his mouth.

"Nngh...bitte....I will throw up again just hearing that..." Kurt's whine made you smile lightly, so you stopped.

"Alright, alright," you smiled and gestured for him to lay back down in bed. He needed to rest some more. You'd be there to take care of him.

Kurt places the empty glass down on the nightstand before he laid back down on his side again, pulling the covers up over himself. His entire body is still trembling slightly as he shivers, and Kurt looks as if he’s struggling not to pass out.

He lets out another small, pained groan as he curls in on himself. “Es tut mir Leid...I must have been such a fool last night." Kurt mutters with slight shame and sadness in his voice. "Stay with me..?” He requests quietly in a somewhat pleading tone.

How could you deny that face?

"Of course. I'm here to take care of you." You reassured him and stroked his hair comfortingly, "And don't apologize. I mean sure...I was a little shocked at how much you drank, but hey, everyone was partying." You tried to help him feel better, in all honesty you weren't mad at him at all. Just worried, since he drank so heavily so suddenly.

He gave a weak smile, but he was still feeling like shit. "Danke...for taking care of me and dealing with my sickness...I do not think anyone else would sit in the bathroom with me and watch me puke." Kurt chuckled, though it was soft and pained.

"You don't need to thank me for caring for my boyfriend," you chuckled lightly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Now...you need some much needed shut eye. I'll be right here if you need anything. Water, medicine, a trash can. For now, just try to get some sleep to fight that headache I know you have." Your hand continued to stroke his hair, your fingers running through his locks and scratching his scalp lightly.

His eyes close and his head leans into your hand as you pet his head, a quiet, small purr-like noise rumbling in his chest. "Okay." Kurt's voice is so tired, he's ready for more sleep. He enjoys when you play with his hair, so you gladly continue until you see his breathing pattern even out and deepen. Kurt snuggles into you, and luckily he fell asleep even though he felt pretty shitty. All because you were there to help him, and he couldn't be any more grateful about it.

You felt his tail weakly curl around your leg, his sleeping form seeking you out naturally, any way he could. So you moved closer, smiling down as he cuddled into you. He was such a sweetheart, no matter what. You hear him mumbling something in his sleep, and it just makes you pull him even closer to you. You don't know if he was awake at all, but you heard him regardless.

“Ich liebe dich..." his tired, sleepy voice murmurs against your skin.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover Images: Way of X #3 (2021)

[radio-fmm]

Too sweet (for me)

Law x strawhat!reader

gn reader + fluff drabble

100% inspired by Too Sweet by Hozier the moment he dropped this I knew I had to write something about Law from it so here you go, I even incorporated some of the lyrics

Masterlist

Trafalgar Law doesn’t get it

How were you able to slip into his mind so carelessly and without notice? Law had never envisioned himself liking someone as sweet as you

For starters you were a strawhat, already on the wrong track, but alongside Robin, you were of the ones Law tolerated the most since you were usually more introverted and took things seriously, which made him start gravitate towards you

Big mistake

Surprisingly he found out your quiet facade was something reserved for strangers, once you warmed up to his presence everything changed

You looked after him, bringing his black coffee when he stayed up all night in the library, urging him to sleep at normal hours and enjoy his time at the Sunny. You opened yourself completely for him to devour all details facts and antics of yours. Your presence filled every room he sat at, listened to whatever he had on his mind, or stayed in a blissful silence if he needed you to

Law had taken notice you were strong, smart, brave and confident, becoming an important asset on Luffy’s crew, another reason he saw you as one of the most competent strawhats. Even though a lot of people feared you, you remained kind, bright as the morning, soft as the rain, sweet as a grape

You had become Laws favorite sweetener, he became addicted to every inch of you. He’d drink up every look you’d graced his way like neat whiskey, every word like his favorite melody and every touch he wished it to tattoo it on his skin, always waiting for your frame to appear through every door he encountered

Something he did not expect, was how you were trying to change him for the better, almost like whispering alongside the wind for him to ‘live right’. To take down his tall walls, to speak up about the matters that roamed in his mind and heart, to stop indulging in bad sleeping habits and overworking himself to exhaustion, a task no one seemed to fill in his life, he was a Captain after all

You were softening him up, he didn’t like it when he noticed, first you wormed yourself into his heart now this? But how could he deny you?

There was no shame in being soft, sweet and tender, you always seemed to try and tell him

Yet he wondered how had you managed to keep yourself like that, brightening his and your crews days, after all, life has had its way with you too

And he couldn’t handle it

Who would’ve thought, the surgeon of death, threatened by a silly feeling

It ate away at him, the way his heartbeat accelerated whenever you were at least in the same table, his stomach turning at every look he stole whenever you smiled or laughed, or the rosy pigment that painted his features at the mere thought of you

He felt like a deer in headlights. Still Law couldn’t help but to follow you around the Sunny like a stray cat, reaching for you in any situation he was able to keep you closer, craved your presence and to hear your melodic voice ring in his ears, and whenever you said his name? Heaven couldn’t compare

He wondered how fast had this happened, he didn’t notice all the affection he was harboring for you until he couldn’t backtrack, he thanked whatever god was out there that made you so oblivious, it seemed like everyone on the ship noticed the way Law and you glanced at each other and how you would spend your days sitting together in every room but you

But here he is now, under the moonlight staring down at your twinkling eyes that could easily be mistaken for one of the stars above you, his hand traveling to the back of your head before he gives you a look as if asking ‘may I?’ to wish you answer by doing the sweetest thing he could ever thought of

You smile and stand on your tip toes collapsing your lips in his, ending his endless pining as you melt into each other like you were meant to be like this

Trafalgar Law doesn’t get it, when he tastes the sweet sugar of the chocolate drink you had that evening on his lips and doesn’t mind it at all, even if he takes his coffee black every morning

He could even say, he loves it

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I’ve been listening to Hozier since his debut album I even saw him live and got a shrike tattooed on mu arm OF COURSE I was gonna write this and the first thing that popped into my mind was Law so here you go. Sorry it’s short uni has been eating me alive

[hongjng8]

UNWIND.

Pairing: Hongjoong X FemReader

Genre: romance (?), Pure smut.

wc: 827

Tags: nsfw (18+) MDNI, established relationship, heavy oral sex, drool, Choking, Deepthroat, Reader giving.

Hongjng8’s notes: I can never ever get over studio Hongjoong. Something about his concentrated expressions and occasional frustrations. Ugggg~ Also! Happy first fic me !! I hope you can enjoy this piece as much as I enjoyed writing ;)) MWAHS MWAHS xoxo

Hongjoong Masterlist | main masterlist

Your day would typically end with a warm tea alongside your favorite show streaming on the flat-screen TV — especially after a long day at work.

Today was a tad bit different though. You had been let off early, one of the lucky ones in the eyes of your manager they’d say.

Clocking out of your shortened shift, the thought of your boyfriend Hongjoong traced your mind; what was he up to? Maybe I could surprise him?

You Uber’d your way home, short and quick — eager to reunite with Hongjoong once again. Soon enough, you were home, stepping out of the car with a sigh of relief: “finally..” you dusted yourself off before entering the apartment, locking the door behind you.

Quietly, you cracked open the door of your shared room, to which also included Hongjoong’s studio. Immediately your eyes landed on an evidently frustrated Hongjoong, who happened to be ever so focused on his work, per usual. You found it rather endearing to watch him create such masterpieces, although the hard-ship never went unnoticed.

“Stressed?” Your delicate hands soothed his shoulders, fluttering a loving kiss upon his jawline.

Hongjoong let out a low moan, one of agreement — with a hint of satisfaction from being in your embrace, after he had waited some painful hours for your arrival.

“Y/n.. I’ve missed you.”

Hongjoong shifted in his swiveled seat, maneuvering his attention towards you for a moment. His hands reaching to cup your cheeks, his lips tending to yours, perfectly embracing one another — before inching away. “Works got me all agitated and riled up.” He growled in annoyance, turning back to face his computer and keyboard.

You scanned his fidgetive frame. A sly, dirty idea creeping into your mind. Your body swaying around the chair, teeth indulging into your bottom lip. You knelt down slowly, your eyes meeting his. Hongjoong grinned, head tilting as he was catching onto what you were about to do.

You smiled sheepishly up at him, your fingers playing with the hem of his pants.

“Maybe I can help you relieve some of that.. stress. you work so… hard..”

Your words trailed off, tugging at his pants. Hongjoong assisted you, and soon, his lower-half clothes were completely removed, elsewhere to be seen.

His half-hard cock springing free, the tip glistening from his wetness.

“Such a Good doll..” He hummed, leaning back comfortably, hands grasping either side of the arm rests.

You took this as an instant invitation, shuffling a little closer to close the gap.

Licking your lips, you leant down to glide a wet lick along his length, the point of your tongue pressing against the slit of his tip.

“Ah, fuck.” Hongjoong hissed in pleasure, his hands coming down to collect your hair into a ponytail. You let a soft moan pass after feeling the tightening grip of his fingers around your hair, giving it a light tug. You took the tip of his cock into your mouth, sucking him eagerly.

“That’s my good girl..” Hongjoong groaned, head leaning back in bliss whilst his hips bucked up involuntarily. Cock desperately growing harder. You moaned, his cock hitting the back of your throat, to which Hongjoong cursed a whispered “fuck.”

Your eyes sealed shut, guiding your head up and down rhythmically, your delicate digits wrapping around the base of his cock, pumping the places you couldn’t reach. Hongjoong’s hands tightened around your hair, his hips thrusting upward — length completely engulfed down your throat.

“Keep sucking me off baby, you’re doing so fucking good for me~” Hongjoong lifted your head for a moment, letting you catch your breath. Strings of saliva connecting your mouth to his tip. “You look so pretty sucking my dick.” To which you responded with a dazed smile.

Before you could act further, one of his hands moved down to caress your face — thumb pushing between your teeth, pulling the side of your mouth to force it open.

A sinister look beamed in his eyes, your drool coating his fingers as he plugged your mouth back up with his drenched cock.

“Come on baby, I know you can take it.”

You moaned in anticipation, sending vibrations of pleasure down his length, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked, allowing him to continue violating your throat; tears streaming down your face from the intensity.

“Fuck y/n.. fuck.”

Choking, your hands grasped against his thighs for balance, lavishing in how his legs were twitching, his breathing unsteady, rapid.

Hongjoong’s hand moved to hold the nape of your neck, letting out a loud, blood pumping moan. His cock kissing the back of your throat with each willing thrust. “F-fuck !”

He came, milking his warm seed down your throat. You swallowed as much as you could, some of his release mixing with your saliva — forming a creamy substance that gushed past your lips, creating a ring around his shaft. Which you instinctively licked clean, panting to catch your breath.

“Did i help you unwind?” ~

Tagged: @slvtiny @sugarnspice630 @sansangel @yuyusolivebranch @batw00yo @taegi1016 @acescavern

[takamimami]

(Angst for the 100 follower event)

Eustass Kidd having a massive argument with us over his temper and how he's too loud and then when we try and get some fresh air we accidentally fall off the ship 🙏 (The last part is a joke-- I was thinking actually like him being in denial about him being too much sometimes which causes him to say shit he did not mean to say!! And then Quincy advises us to dump his ass which we do and then we're both just sad and lonely, then the entire crew goes out drinking completely unaware of what has happened and we get drunk and end up kissing some random guy in front of Kidd and he gets angry then hate sex then apologies then reconciliation!!!)

Yes I am rather drunk whilst I am writing this.

Hello, hello, I have finally shut off my video games long enough to finish this prompt, lol! I giggled out loud when your request came in, just so you know. Additionally, I struggled to combine all three of the prompts you suggested - so I took some creative liberties and split the last two prompts between Kidd and Law. I hope that is alright :3 As promised, this is the smutty pt. 2 to THIS request - still a bit angsty but mostly hurt/comfort with some makeup sex :3 I hope I did your idea justice!!

Kidd/Law x F!Reader - NSFW - "Don't touch me!" (Kidd) and "Please, tell me you're okay." (Law)

STORY UNDER THE CUT - MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 🔞

CW: SMUT; dub-con (kidd), possessive and dom kidd vibes, hand necklace (kidd) both of them are meanies :3, spanking (law), law fucks you on his desk, kidd calls you 'princess', crew mate!reader ---word count ~1.8k each

You had managed to avoid your captain for three days, and the crew finally had enough of your moping around the ship on the fourth day when you finally docked at your new destination. They forced convinced to you to get dressed up and come into town with all of them, shoving drink after drink in your face as everyone tries to get you to let loose and enjoy your night. It works for most of the night until you get a little too drunk and end up kissing a random stranger in the middle of the bar, your captain’s eyes angrily watching the entire occurrence and storming off immediately after.

You regret the entire situation the moment you see the hurt in your captain’s eyes, and the alcohol in your veins clouds your better judgment as you take off after him, following after him and his vice-captain as they make their way back to the ship. You sober up slightly on the walk back, and as you approach the gangway you can hear your captain’s angry voice echoing into the night.

🌷

His voice was angrier than you’d ever heard it, enough to make you falter a step as you heard him arguing back and forth with Killer as you walked up onto the deck.

“I don’t give a damn how drunk she was,” he seethes, his back facing you as he continues yelling. “She’s fucking delusional if she thinks I want anything to do with a skank like her! She can go whore herself to the whole fucking island, for all I care!”

Your stomach turned at the malice in his tone, and Killer puts his arms up over his head as he sees you watching and listening from the edge of the deck. 

“Kidd,” he says soothingly, trying to calm him down, “You’re just upset. Don’t say things you’ll regret later.”

Kidd notices Killer’s gaze looking over his shoulder and he turns around to meet your bleary eyes, his own amber eyes softening as he takes in the expression on your face.

You’d already beat yourself up about the kiss on the walk back to the ship, but hearing those harsh words leave Kidd’s lips felt like a knife to your gut. The tears that burned your eyes caused you to turn your face from him, wiping them away before they could fall as Kidd moved in your direction.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, reaching a hand out to you as he approaches. “I didn’t…”

“Cause you’re some fucking saint, right Kidd?” you retort back at him, masking the hurt you were feeling with anger nearly matching the intensity of his own moments ago.

You see his eye twitch and his lip curl at your accusation, his step faltering slightly before he continues approaching you, slowing down ever so slightly.

“Never claimed to be a saint, princess,” he growls, “But I’m not the one running around kissing strangers after telling someone they love them.”

You feel the burning in your eyes rise again, his smug tone making your lip quiver as you try to keep the angry ember burning inside of you.

“You didn’t ask me to love you, remember? Maybe I’m trying not to anymore.”

Kidd’s hand reaches out to you and yanks you towards him by your forearm, his grip rough as he leans down so his face is a mere inch from yours.

“And how is that working for you?”

You tug your arm away from his grip, and he lets you go with an evil grin, eyes ablaze as he watches you back away from him. He stalks towards you again and reaches like he’s going to grab you again, but you swat at his hand defiantly.

“Don’t touch me!”

Kidd’s hand flinches back at the tone in your voice, stopping mid-stride he stares at you intently, gauging your reaction as your chest rises and falls with your heavy breathing.

After a few moments, Kidd resumes his steps, closing enough of the distance between the two of you to where you can feel his shallow breaths ghosting over your collarbone.

His smirk returns as he hears the slight hitch in your breathing, noting the twinkle of desire in your eye as he hovers over you.

“You sure you don’t want me to touch you, princess,” he croons, his fingertips ghosting over the skin of your arm as he defies your earlier command.

You shudder at the feeling, your throat going dry as his fingers send a shiver down your back. He traces his fingers up your arm and down the front of you, stopping to toy with the waistband of your skirt as he drops his eyes to where his hand is. 

“I bet that sweet little cunt of yours will tell me a different story,” he murmurs, dropping his head down and connecting his lips to your neck, placing wet kisses along your jaw as he slips his fingers down into your panties.

He hisses at the feeling of you, and you flush at just how easy it is for him to slip a finger inside of you, a feeble moan falling from your lips as he begins pumping it in and out of you. 

You’re grateful Killer had taken his leave once he felt the shift in the conversation, biting down on your lip as you try to stifle the moans Kidd is so effortlessly pulling from you. You feel your body arch into his touch as he slips in another finger, your hips bucking as he presses his thumb to your throbbing clit.

Just when you feel the pressure begin to build in your core, Kidd pulls away from you entirely, holding your angry gaze as he brings his fingers to his lips.

“Too bad you don’t want me to touch you,” he purrs, turning and walking away from your panting form. 

You snap out of the shock after he gets a few steps away, your own lip curling into a wicked grin as you call out after him.

“Maybe I’ll go have the guy at the bar touch me. His kiss was decent enough.”

Kidd’s hands are on you in an instant, pressing you down by your neck against a nearby table as he looms over you, eyes blazing.

“I fucking dare you.”

You feel the damp heat pooling in your legs as he stands between them, Kidd’s free hand tugging at his pants as he pulls out his cock and teases the head of it against your clothed cunt - pulling the fabric to the side an teasing your entrance a moment later. You both hiss at the sensation, and Kidd’s hips snap into you hastily, a strangled cry escaping your throat as he bullies himself into your warmth and immediately sets a punishing pace.

Your back scraps against the wood of the table as Kidd fucks into you, hand still holding you in place by the throat as he growls from above you. The sudden sting of his intrusion quickly melts into pleasure as he angles his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you.

“You think his cock would’ve felt as good as mine, hm? You think he would’ve been able to make you scream like I can?”

Your only reply is a throaty moan as Kidd pumps his hips into yours, your vision going blurry as the pressure in your core begins to intensify. Kidd’s hand tightens around your throat as you close your eyes, causing them to snap back open and meet his amber orbs.

“Answer me.”

You shiver as he growls out his command, his metal hand reaching down to rub harsh circles on your clit.

“No!” you shutter, the volume of your voice rising with each hard thrust of Kidd’s hips.

Kidd’s response is a grunted laugh, his pace slowing as he feels your walls begin to flutter around him. 

“Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he commands, his slow and deliberate thrusts punctuating his words.

You roll your eyes and bark out a laugh. “Fuck you,” you grit out between your teeth.

Kidd barks a laugh back, his mocking tone riling you up even more as he presses his hips to yours. 

“Isn’t that what we're doing, princess?” A quick snap of his hips and you hear the table creak from the pressure. “Tell me.”

You feel yourself involuntarily clamp down around Kidd’s length, his hand tightening in reaction as he stops his movements altogether and ruts his hips against yours, the movement not nearly enough to satiate you. 

You whine desperately as you try to buck your hips against him, his torturous stare boring into you as he holds you still. 

“It’s yours,” you gasp out, exasperated and desperate to feel him moving inside you again. 

“Hmm?” He croons, and your cheeks flush as you meet his heated gaze.

“It’s yours,” you say louder, more conviction in your voice as you see the triumphant grin curl onto Kidd’s lips.

He pulls himself out of you, nearly leaving you completely, before slamming himself back into you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he pulls you to the edge of the table and pistons in and out of you. His metal finger returns to your clit and your moans vibrate through your chest as the cord in your abdomen tightens.

“Come for me, princess,” he hums from above you, losing himself in your grip as he feels his own orgasm rear its head. 

You do as he commands, your orgasm washing over you as your eyes screw shut, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you feel your voice go hoarse from calling out for him. You claw at the edge of the table as Kidd rocks into you, each wave of your orgasm causing your cunt to grip him tighter and tighter as his thrusts grow slower and sloppier, finally coming to a halt after he’s spent. Your labored breaths are the only thing that can be heard as soft waves rock against the ship until you slowly start to hear voices approaching in the distance - signaling the return of your crew.

Kidd wordlessly scoops you up into his arms, whisking you away to his quarters below the deck before anyone has a chance to see the two of you. Once inside, he sets you down gently on the bed, leaning over you and keeping his head nuzzled in your neck as he contemplates the next thing to say to you.

“I’m sorry.”

The last two words you were expecting leave his mouth, and you feel a lump form in your throat as he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“For everything.”

Your mind flashes back to the heated words you two had exchanged over the past week, the tenderness in Kidd’s voice a soothing balm over the wounds that had been opened up in the process. You bring a hand to his face and stroke the soft skin of his cheek, his face leaning into your touch as your eyes haze over with sleep.

“You can continue apologizing in the morning,” you muse, a yawn escaping your lips as you cuddle down into his blanket, feeling him crawl into the bed behind you and pull you towards his chest.

“Does that mean I’m not forgiven yet?”

You chuckle lightly, rolling around to face him and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Nope,” you say with a wink, smiling at him teasingly. “You’re gunna have to do better than that.”

He blinks down at you unexpectedly, your challenge settling into his mind as his devilish grin returns. He flips you onto your back and tugs at your clothes, no longer willing to let you sleep until he proves to you just how sorry he really was.

🐯

“I’m fine, Bepo,” Law growls, dismissing him with a wave of his hand as he continues further into the ship. “I don’t care what she does, she’s the last of my concerns right now.”

Bepo waddles behind him wearily as he stomps towards his office, your quiet footsteps following them from a distance as you try to muster up the courage to face Law in his current state.

“Are you sure about that… Captain?” 

You hear Bepo’s weary voice as you approach the door, your footsteps coming to a halt just outside the office. You barely hear the grumbled response from Law as your heart begins thundering in your chest, swallowing hard as you will your legs to move you forward, stopping in the doorway as your heavy eyes look across the room to your captain.

His eyes take you in, and you try to mask the weariness on your face as he finally meets your gaze. He only holds it for a moment, before a scowl curls up onto his lips and he looks away, pulling his hat from his head and running his fingers through his hair.

“I-I’m gunna go…” Bepo stutters, and you glance at him with pleading eyes, trying to beg him not to abandon you. But he’s gone an instant later - leaving you in an uncomfortable tension hanging in the air.

Neither of you speak for a long while, neither of you able to find the right thing to address first. 

Law huffs out a deep sigh as he collapses into his chair, resting his elbows on his desk and clawing at his hair again.

“Did you need something, Y/N?” was all he could think to say, the edge in his voice teetering on annoyance as he struggled to grapple with the chaos of emotions in his head.

You clenched your fists tighter to your sides as you struggled to breathe, words escaping you as you searched your brain for something to say that wasn’t laced with the venom you wanted to spew back at him. You wanted to scream at him - wanted to make him realize the hurt he’d caused you to feel the last few days. You supposed the kiss with a random stranger had succeeded in that partially, but now he had the audacity to be the one acting upset?

Your mind raced a mile a minute as Law sat staring at you, his brows furrowed as he watched your gaze turn from sorrowful to… angry? There was something sparking through the haze in your eyes that he couldn’t put his finger on, and he braced himself as your chest rose with a deep inhale.

But instead of a snide comment, a feeble laugh was all you could muster as you loosed the breath you held, feeling your shoulders relax as you shut your eyes and turned on your heels. 

“Y/N,” Law’s voice held a commanding tone as he called out to you, and you paused mid-stride to glance over your shoulder at him.

To your surprise he had began to rise from his seat, and as you turned to face him once more he crossed the room in a few long strides, stopping less than a foot away from you. He reaches out an arm to you and you flinch away from him, his hand dropping when he sees your reaction.

“Are you… alright?”

You huff out another laugh at the question, and you swear Law flinches at your reaction. His brows furrow in irritation momentarily before softening again, and he puffs out a sigh before speaking again.

“I… I realize I may have been a bit… harsh with you the other day,” he says through gritted teeth, as if it pained him to admit he may have been in the wrong. “And I realize that you only pushed as hard as you did because you care.” He raises a hand to the back of his head and casts his gaze around the room, avoiding eye contact as he tries to find any words to ease the pain still lingering in your expression.

Still you remained silent, sensing how every non-response sent his pulse sky rocketing. You were unsure why, but something about the way you were effortlessly able to get under his skin had a smirk threatening to curl onto your lips as he leaned closer, eyes softening even more as he reaches a hand toward your chin.

You don’t flinch away from him this time, allowing him to pull your chin closer to his with his index finger, the touch gentle as his breath tickles the side of your neck. 

“Say something,” he pleads, his voice barely more than a whisper now, “Please. Tell me you’re alright, tell me you hate me - say anything, Y/N-ya.” His voice trembles a bit as he says your name, and any smugness you had felt dissipates at the sound.

You feel your lip quiver as you try to figure out what to say - what you want to say - and the two of you remain that way for a few more heartbeats before you finally break the silence.

“You… are a real asshole when you’re angry… you know that?” You drawl, sensing Law relax a bit at the smirk you offer him for a quick moment before your lips fall back into a harsh line. 

Law huffs out a deep chuckle, the sound vibrating in your chest as he leans his head down towards your ear, kicking the door shut behind him before leading you further into the office.

“Says the girl who just threw herself at a stranger after making sure I was watching her every move.”

Your back stiffened as you felt the edge of Law’s desk press into the back of your legs, papers rustling behind you from the slight disturbance you’d caused.

“I did no such thing,” you said defiantly, though your voice came out less convincing than you had wanted it to. You swallowed hard as Law pulled his head back to look at you, his eyes a shade darker than they had been a moment ago as they watch the bob of your throat. 

“Keep lying to me, and I’ll have to punish you, Y/N-ya.”

Your thighs squeezed together at the threat, and you curse whatever broken part of you causes you to melt at the sight of your captain like this - at the condescending tone in his voice.

“I’m not,” you whisper, pressing your body against his as he watches you through heavy lids, “But I’ll gladly take whatever punishment you deem necessary, Captain.”

He hisses as you reach down and palm him through his pants, his considerable length pressing against his pants painfully. He grabs your wrist to halt your movements and your eyes fly up to meet his heated glare and biting your lip as a growl escapes his lips.

“Turn around.”

The command in his voice has heat pooling in your core as you turn and bend over the edge of his desk, not caring what papers you scatter to the floor in the process. Law silently lurks behind you, running a hand over your ass tenderly before pulling the waistband of your bottoms down, exposing yourself to him. He growls again, this time rubbing the flesh of your ass harshly before lifting his hand and bringing it down onto your ass cheek with a sharp slap.

“That,” he groans, and you hear him fidget with the buttons on his pants, “Is for disobeying your captain’s orders in the first place.”

Another slap to your opposite ass cheek has you crying out at the sensation, the sting of his hand immediately being soothed by his fingers as he kneads the swollen area.

“That… is for arguing with me and then avoiding me for three days.”

You wince as his hand raises again, a whine escaping his lips as he tears the underwear from your legs and pulls your back up and flush to his chest, his erection pressing between your ass cheeks as he breathes harshly along the shell of your ear.

“You’re too loud,” he groans, balling your underwear up and shoving it into your mouth as a make-shift gag. “Keep quiet or I’ll cut this punishment short.”

You nod your head as he leans you back over the desk, tracing your entrance with the tip of his cock as you bite back a moan. Law grabs your forearms and crosses them over your back, gripping both of them in one hand as he presses himself into your warmth, a muffled moan escaping your lips despite your best efforts.

“Quiet,” Law snaps, pulling himself from you and laying another smack to your ass as you feel tears begin to prickle at the corners of your eyes. Your breathing is labored as he presses back into you, this time sinking into your walls completely, the stretch of him inside you causing your eyes to water further as the slight pain melts into pleasure as he sets a punishing pace as he moves in and out of you.

The sound of your skin slapping together fills the office, the sound accompanied by Law’s husky grunts and your muffled moans. You really did try to contain them, but the feeling of him moving inside you was too overwhelming for you to care about the sounds coming out of you.

Law yanks your arms back, causing your back to arch up off the desk as he leans forward and wraps an arm around your shoulders. The new angle has you leaning back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he feels your walls tighten around him.

“You never know when to shut the hell up, do you?”

Your defiant response is to let out an even louder cry as he releases the hand around your arms and wraps it around you to thumb at your clit, chasing after his own release as you tumble into your orgasm. You feel yourself clamp around him tightly as the waves of pleasure have your vision blurring, your mouth going dry as you try to cry out his name. Law hears your attempts and pulls the underwear from your mouth, his cock twitching when he’s finally able to hear his name fall from your lips. You feel his body tenses and his legs begin to shake as Law drags his cock hastily through your walls, until finally his thrusts grow sloppy and his own orgasm washes over him. Each grunt of your name sends a wave of goosebumps over your skin as he comes to a still behind you, peppering your shoulder with gentle kisses as he lifts his hand and the two of your bodies are replaced by pillows inside his office.

Back in Law’s quarters, he pulls you into his arms and kisses you needily, trying to convey all the emotions he’s wrestled with over the past few days with the action.

“Just so you know,” he says when he finally pulls away, his eyes falling to your puffy and swollen lips as he licks his own, “I do want you here. I always want you here, Y/N-ya.”

You feel your chest tighten as you think back to the heated words the two of you had exchanged days prior, letting out a small sigh of relief at the reassuring words you’d been waiting to hear. “Even if I don’t know how to shut the hell up?”

Law grins, a devilish twinkle sparkling in his eye as he dips his head back down to yours.

“Especially because of that.”

100 Follower Event Masterlist ✨come say hai :3✨

[jintaka-hane]

A Visit to the Infirmary

Masterlist

Img by Buffoland

This is a gift for the lovely @akagami-no-laney 🎁!! I like Hongo thanks to you, and when I went to look for more content about him, I saw there was very little! So I decided to write this. I hope you like it! 💕 Summary: You've fallen in love with the doctor aboard the Red Force. In complete denial of your feelings, you think it’s best to avoid him for a while until the feeling passes. But a terrible pain in your back will force you to pay him a visit. Word count: 3000 Notes: Love in denial. Flirting. Confessions of love. Use of 'Darling' and 'Doll'. Reader is a brat. Beckman is a saint. Hongo doesn't really know how to approach you, though in the end it seems like he manages to 🤪. I have no knowledge in medicine, so everything here is pure fiction XD.

"Dammit, Beck!!!" you roared, kicking and flailing in the air, landing futile punches on the immense wardrobe-like back of the first mate. "Let me go!"

The tall man's grip tightened as he carried you over his shoulder, his face serious and stoic as he strode determinedly towards the ship's infirmary.

"Scream all you want, Darlin’, but we’re going to see Hongo whether you like it or not." 

“NO!” you whined, writhing harder. “NOT HONGO! PLEASE! I—I’ll do anything you want! I’ll… I’ll get you the finest cigarettes at the next port!”

Beckman chuckled and shook his head, clearly amused by your desperate efforts to escape.

"BECKMAN, I’m serious! Let me go!! I-I swear that… that…  OUCH!!" you twisted in agony as a sharp, searing pain shot through your lower back.

Your captor halted immediately, noticing how you contorted in pain, and gave you a moment’s respite as he tried to ease you through the surge.

“Darlin’,” he spoke softly, one hand moving to your back and rubbing it gently, “you need help… and he’s the only one here who can give it to you, do you understand?” 

You nodded, closing your eyes and gripping his shirt tightly, enduring the wave of suffering as best you could.

You had been dealing with unbearable pain in your lower back for days. You didn’t know what caused it—whether it was some bad posture, the fall when you climbed down from the lookout, or the time you landed hard on your backside going down the ship’s ladder. Whatever it was, you must have injured something, and the pain, coming in waves like stabbing knives, was horrible. 

Stubbornly, you had tried to let it pass on its own, avoiding asking anyone for help and steering clear of the infirmary. Yet your walks on the deck, face twisted in pain and hand pressed to your lower back, hadn’t escaped the ever-watchful Benn Beckman. Guessing your reluctance to see the ship’s doctor, he had kept his distance and observed you from afar without asking questions, but, as he watched your condition deteriorate further, he decided it was his duty to act.

“Hongo’s a decent doctor. Give him a chance,” he said, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you with his concerned gray eyes.

The problem wasn’t whether Hongo was a good doctor. You knew full well that he was competent and professional. The real issue was that he was also kind, tall, funny, and undeniably attractive. 

That, along with the fact that you were maybe… probably a little bit in love with him—an insignificant detail, considering you were fighting it, convinced that keeping the right distance would make the feeling fade and spare you from a potential broken heart. All you had to do was avoid him and act like a brat when he was around, and everything would be fine. You were as certain of this as you were that your back pain would eventually subside on its own.

BAAAANG!!!!

The infirmary door swung open with a deafening bang as Beckman kicked it harder than intended, his hands fumbling as he tried to grab hold of your increasingly elusive body.

“Sorry, Hongo,” he said, noticing that part of the doorframe had splintered.

“Oi, Beck,” Hongo said without turning around, completely unfazed by the door’s loud crash as he meticulously washed his hands in the sink. “I see you’ve convinced y/n to come and see me.”

“That’s not—” you began to say.

“YES,” Beck shot you a reproachful look as he carefully set you down on the floor. “She’s a smart girl and understands what’s best for her.”

You opened your mouth to speak but his huge hand covered it, stopping you. His cold eyes bore into yours, and he mouthed the word “behave,” leaving no room for an argument.

“Perfect,” Hongo turned around with that charming smile that always drew you in. “Welcome to my office, y/n.”

You held his gaze for a moment, his eyes crinkling beneath the scar that ran down his temple. He took a small white towel and dried his hands with an unusual gentleness for a pirate, and the thought made you look away, taking in the ship’s infirmary for the first time.

It was surprisingly neat and well organized. There was a wide variety of medical supplies and medicinal herbs neatly lined up on shelves lining the walls. In the center, a sturdy wooden table held a collection of bandages, ointments, and surgical instruments. And next to it, a set of perfectly clean syringes waited to be used.

“Do you need me to stay?” Beckman asked, unsure of what to do.

“Yes—” 

“NO—” Hongo said at exactly the same time.

Beckman’s gaze shifted from one to the other.

“I’ll be outside if you need me,” he said, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and placing it between his lips.

Shit.

You watched him leave shooting him a dirty look, and as soon as the door closed, Hongo’s gaze was fixed on you again, his smile remaining as he took a step closer.

“So…” he began, halting when he noticed you flinch and step back, “you’ve had a sharp pain in your lower back for days, haven’t you?”

Of course, that bastard Beckman had told him.

“Maybe,” you replied nonchalantly, avoiding his eyes.

“And you didn’t come to see me until now, why?”

“It’s not that bad.” You shrugged, the careless movement causing the pain in your back to flare up again, but in a wave you managed to endure with dignity.

“Uh-huh…” he paused, examining you. “Let’s take a look, okay?” He took another step forward, slow and deliberate. “Can you lay face down on the exam table for me?”

Your gaze darted to the exam table to the doctor.

“Absolutely not,” you looked at him with a defiant look, arms crossed over your chest.

Hongo’s expression changed in an instant.

“Very well,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes and kicking aside a stool that stood in his way as he moved towards you, “by force then.”

You swallowed hard, realizing that your back was pressed against a wall, and as soon as you saw his figure lurking closer, you scrambled to take cover behind the wooden table. You clutched its edge and dragged it to shield yourself, causing several bandages, bottles and ointments to scatter across the floor, some breaking open and spilling.

“Eeehm, do you need help!?” Beckman’s raspy, concerned voice came from the other side of the door.

“No!” Hongo bellowed as he charged after you, his eyes fixed on you and ignoring the mess on the floor. “No need for help! We’re behaving like two perfectly normal, civilized people!”

He moved along the right side of the table while you quickly circled to the other side, moving as fast as your body let you. As he reached out to grab you, you twisted to evade him, but a sharp, agonizing pain shot through your back, spreading to your hips and down your thighs. Your legs gave way under the intensity of the pain and just as you began to collapse, Hongo caught you in mid-air.

“I’ve got you…” he soothed, his usual tenderness reappearing as he held you tightly against his chest, unwilling to let you go until the pain was gone. “I’ve got you…”

You buried your head in the crook of his neck, sobbing and swallowing your pride, and you stayed wrapped in his arms for a few minutes, until he felt your body gradually relax as the pain started to ease.

“I’m going to take you to the exam table now, alright?” he said, feeling your head nod against his neck.

“You know…'"he helped you to sit down, "you must be made of steel, because in all the time you’ve been with us, you’ve never come to see me…” his fingers danced lightly along the edge of your shirt. “Can I examine you?”

“NO.” You swatted his hands away immediately.

"Alright, alright..." He smiled, raising his hands in surrender. "Let’s focus on your back, then." He gestured with his finger for you to turn over on the examination table. "Can you lie face down, please?"

You glared at him, tilting your chin defiantly. But as soon as he caught the rebellious glint in your eyes, he raised an eyebrow.

“Face down, Doll. NOW.” He said, his tone commanding and authoritative, making it clear who was in charge.

With a dramatic roll of your eyes you gave in, knowing full well there was no choice but to comply with your doctor’s orders. You turned over on the table, and the movement sent a fresh wave of pain through your back, forcing you to moan and press your face into the sheets. You felt Hongo’s fingers ghost over your back, right at the spot where the pain was the worst.

"It’s right here, isn’t it?"

You nodded, surprised at how efficiently he pinpointed the exact source. With your head buried in the soft, cushioned surface of the table, you heard the sound of a stool being dragged toward you. You turned your head to see him, but found his knees and the tops of his thighs instead, legs set apart.

"Okay…" you heard him muse, his voice soft, calm and steady, “... intramuscular analgesia”.

His left hand rested on your lower back, applying just enough pressure to keep you in place, while his right hand deftly prepared the cotton and antiseptic. As he turned his torso, his defined abs peeked out from above the waistband of his pants right in front of your eyes, and you snorted, turning your head away.

“Don’t worry Doll, I’ll be gentle…” he said, assuming your reaction was due to the fear of needles. “I need you to lift up your skirt and pull down your underwear, please.”

You didn’t respond. You stayed still on the exam table with your heart pounding in your chest. The pain in your lower back was unbearable, but the thought of Hongo right behind you, demanding to see your ass, was much worse.

"Come on, Doll…" he tried to encourage you in an even softer voice, "be a good girl for me."

This time, a surprised chuckle escaped your lips. Never in a million years had you imagine hearing those words from him, and a warm flush crept up from your neck, staining your cheeks. You hesitated, hands trembling as you slowly lifted your skirt over your hips. Your fingers fumbled with the waistband of your panties, and as you exposed the soft, vulnerable skin of your ass, you felt Hongo shift slightly on the stool.

“... Hongo?”

"Yes," he cleared his throat with a hint of self-reproach. "Please, keep your ass up."

The tension was suffocating. The smell of antiseptic saturated the air, his gaze weighed on your exposed skin... and that last command. It was too much. You had to say something that might unsettle him and tip the balance in your favor. Anything.

“Tsk, tsk, doctor, you can’t just pull down a girl’s panties and say 'ass up’ without, you know, a little courting first, can you?”

He let out a snort of laughter, and the sound made you smir proud of yourself. Though not for long.

“Oh, doll…” His fingers brushed over your skin as he tapped it with the alcohol-soaked cotton swab. “You know I’ve wanted to court you for a long time, don’t you? But it’s hard when you’re always running away from me.”

Your heart raced again, faster this time. You wanted to disappear. You wanted to get up and run out of the infirmary. But unable to do any of that, you simply turned your face away, closed your eyes, and tried to focus on anything but what he had just said. He stifled a sigh and readied the syringe.

"Alright, here we go," he said, making you gasp as the sharp, clean prick pierced your skin. "Good girl, you’re doing great…" He noticed how tightly you were gripping the sheet on the exam table, and unable to stand seeing you so uncomfortable, he slipped his free hand beneath yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. "That's it, just hold on a little longer…"

You focused on his words, letting the rhythm of his calm, measured breathing soothe you, and as soon as he finished, he withdrew the needle.

“Try to rest a bit until the medication takes effect,” he said as he rose from the stool and moved away to give you space.

With your face still turned to the wall, you pulled up your underwear. The pain in your back was fading, so you slowly sat on the exam table, surprised to find you could do so without wincing.

From that angle, you had a clear view of the infirmary and saw Hongo kneeling on the floor, cleaning up the mess you’d made in your frantic attempt to escape. You watched him work, his back hunched and his shaved neck bowed, carefully picking up the spilled liquids and shards of glass. A sigh escaped you at the sight, and you felt the stubbornness in your heart start to melt into something warmer. You moved closer and crouched down beside him.

“Is your back feeling better?” he asked as soon as he noticed you presence.

“Yes… ,” you said softly, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor. "Thanks."

“Anytime.” 

You felt his gaze on you as you focused on the task, sorting the broken jars and glass shards into a bag. You worked side by side in a silence that, oddly enough, didn’t feel uncomfortable, and you wished it could stay that way. But when your hands brushed against each other and you pulled yours back, he spoke.

“Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you,” you replied without looking at him.

“But you avoid me…”

You remained silent, grabbing a rag and scrubbing it vigorously against the floor, feeling a knot in your stomach grow larger and larger.

"Look at me," he said, placing a hand on the crown of your head to make you face him. "Isn’t a ship’s doctor good enough for you?"

You shrugged off his hand and stood up , trying to hide the mixed feelings on your face.

“It’s not that, Hongo, it’s… it’s complicated.”

“It shouldn’t be complicated… " He rose to his feet to match your stance, and his eyes locked with yours with a hint of pleading in his expression. "Actually, it’s very simple. At least for me, loving you is as simple and natural as breathing.”

His words pierced your heart like arrows set aflame. He might have tended to your back, but his gaze and his words were leaving your mind and heart reeling, caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

“You love me…” You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose as you felt your heart weary from fighting.

“Of course I do… You know I'm crazy about you.”

You opened your eyes again to meet his, his face calm yet sharply attentive to your reaction.

"I just..." your eyes darted between his, "need a little more time to sort out my feelings and make things... right."

He held your gaze for a moment, weighing the situation.

“I’ll be right here," he finally said, raising his hands in a gesture that seemed to take in the entire infirmary.

You returned his smile. It wasn’t going to be very hard to come to terms with your feelings if he kept acting like this. As you discarded the dirty rag you had been holding into a bin, you turned and walked toward the door, feeling as though you were leaving a piece of your heart behind.

"I’d really love to see it again, you know? But maybe under different circumstances...” he said as you reached for the doorknob.

“See what?” you turned to look at him, hoping that whatever he said next wouldn’t be too out of place.

"That beautiful ass."

Bastard. 

Your heart betrayed you, leaving you flattered and forcing you to suppress a smile.

He was a pirate after all.

“Oh, Hongo,” you looked at him with pursed lips, “I can’t believe it. Where’s your professionalism?”

“Believe me, I’ve been quite professional,” he placedhis hand over his chest. “I’ve had to restrain myself from giving you a smack, and believe me, I’ve really wanted to.”

“Ugh!” You huffed, stepping out of the infirmary and bumping into Beckman, who was waiting for you outside.

“How are you feeling, Darlin'? Better?” he asked, looking at you with his grey eyes.

With a smile you couldn't hold back, you stood on your toes and kissed him on the cheek, leaving him startled as you continued down the hall. The door to the infirmary opened and Hongo stepped out, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, watching you walk away.

“Much better!” you replied over your shoulder, smiling to yourself before disappearing from their sight.

............................

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece <3

[fan-goddess]

hello!could you write a reaction to the dragon's house × !fem!reader, when she was flying over the sea with the dragon and one of the enemies was on the ship and shot from a crossbow.

(she and her dragon are alive but slightly injured)

Aegon,Aemond,Jacaerys Velaryon-romantic love

Alicent,Daemon,Rhaenyra,Helaena,Laenor Valeryon-platonic love

sorry if there are any mistakes! I hope everything is clear💝I've actually been thinking about this for a long time💥

HOTD characters reactions of when reader is hurt

The summary: The characters each find out during your usual flight around kingslanding that you were shot down by some people belonging to a certain group that hate the Targaryen traditions and believe it to be an abomination.

A/N: They’re all personalised and hopefully different backstories, but have given reader the same dragon in all of them as making dragons are hard. The wound is also pretty much same, but the severity is altered in some places. In the platonic ones I made reader call them mother or father, since I made them a parent. Some of these are very different as I expanded on some more and developed others. You can tell which.

This ain’t fully proofread we die like Luke!

Taglist: @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee @targaryenbarbie

Warning: Wounds, various gore mentions, incest, kissing, tried to make it gender neutral and lack of descriptions but there are some scattered about! (if I miss any let me know)

Aegon Targaryen:

When Aegon heard the news from his mother who’d rushed to inform him of your sudden injury, he all but sprinted to the infirmary where you were being treated by one of the leading maesters.

“My love, are you alright?!? I am so sorry my love I should have insisted to accompany you! When I find the man who did this to you I shall rip off his head and feed his insides to Sunfyre and Shrykos!” He declares, the words tumbling quickly with how much rage flooded his body at the sight of your wounded self. You could barely keep up with him if you were being honest.

“Aegon, my sweet husband, it is fine! ‘Tis merely a flesh wound!” You insist, yet wincing as soon as the reassurance falls from your lips.

“And yet here you are heavily bleeding, and in very much pain! You should take some milk of the poppy!” Aegon says, looking around to find the bottle, even when you try and insist you were fine. “If you were fine you’d be with me, in our bed, safe and unharmed! So don’t argue with me wife or my wrath will be misguided!”

You merely humour him by sipping slightly at the small contents of the cup the maester had passed to you. Yet still, you can’t deny that the liquid had its desired effects, as your previously aching wound now significantly dulls down to a mere small throb once in a while.

“Now wife. Tell me who hurt you.” Aegon demands, his eyebrows furrowed and his grip tightened on your body as he insured you would be unable to get away from him.

“Just some idiotic men thinking themselves higher than us my love. They shot at me and Shrykos from their ship when we least expected it with bloody crossbones of all things, and somehow barely managed to skim us. Yet they somehow did not expect the very large dragon to get angry that their rider and themself was just attacked with no prior warning. Shrykos certainly made sure to enact on our lovely families motto. By the time she was done with them, there was nothing left but fire and blood sinking to the bottom of the sea.”

Aegons face slowly turns more and more relaxed, and by the end of your tale he’s practically grinning for joy as he kisses you deep on the lips. “That’s my bloodthirsty wife!” He mumbles against your lips, forgetting all about his past aggressions to make you feel as safe and as loved as you could be in his arms. The maester that continues to awkwardly stand their waiting to finish wrapping your arm be damned.

Aemond Targaryen:

He finds out before anyone else, as he tends to wait for you after your dragon rides if he’s unable to go with you that day. So when you come back later than usual with blood dripping down your arm and half an arrow sticking out of you, he certainly is very angry, and very much willing to get on Vhagar and hunt down and kill those who dared harm his wife. Yet he knows he must stay calm for you.

He notices how you try and mumble your dragons name under your breath, so when he makes it past one of the dragon keepers he makes sure to let them know that Shrykos may be in need of some healing. He assumes by the way your mumbles quieten after he says the order that that was what you were trying to tell him. Yet when he actually looks at you Aemond quickly realises you’ve actually fainted from blood loss.

Aemond rushes you to the Maesters room where he insists only the best work on you, even though he couldn’t afford to be picky what with you bleeding out in his arms and all. Though after a few threats and lot of claims regarding his dragon, the maesters quickly manage to remove the arrow and stem the bleeding whilst you continued to lay unconscious on the healing bed. Aemond stayed by your side the entire time, holding your hand tightly in an act of reassurance. Even though you were still unconscious.

He stayed with you the entire time though. Still holding your hand even when he fell asleep. When you eventually woke, three days after you were injured, Aemond was sure to reassure you that you were safe. Even though by the tenth time you were very ready to smack him.

“Tell me ābrazȳrys who did this too you. Vhagar has been ready for the taste of flesh since I found you. I am sure Shrykos too is ready for the thrill of the chase of those who harmed both her and her rider. Tell me, so I can make sure we can tear them limb from limb.” His words drip malice, and yet there is distinct comfort within them. Aemond has never truly been able to show his affection towards you with displays of anything other than action. And in this moment, it just so happens that action involves heavy bloodshed and possible carnage.

“Those men who hale from the vale. The ones claiming our traditions to be an abomination. A sin in the eyes of the seven. They surprised me and Shrykos as we flew above the seas and got some good strikes. But don’t worry ñuha jorrāelagon. Me and Shrykos made sure to burn them to blood and ash before we needed to flee back to kingslanding.” You attempt to smile to reassure your husband, but if anything it appears to make it worse as you wince at the pain suddenly flaring through your whole right arm.

Aemond stays quiet as he makes sure to force you to drink some milk of the poppy.

“Ābrazȳrys. If you were to die, I would have gone to the brink of insanity. I would’ve gone to those peoples homes and burned them all to the ground for what they have done to my wife. To the future mother of my children. They have harmed you though. The have scarred you. And for that offence alone, I cannot allow them a single more moments of breath. I cannot allow them to live.” Aemond storms off leaving you laying there in half shock and half admiration. You knew he would be true to his word. Which is why when not even a day had passed since Aemond had left, you’d heard whispers of what Aemond had done, and you smiled and thanked the gods for a husband like yours.

Jacaerys Velaryon:

If there was one characteristic you could say your husband embodied to the fullest, it would be loyalty. As no matter how many other women, maids and nobility alike, threw themselves at the future heirs feet he always ran back to you.

Even when other men such as the Lannister’s attempted to charm you with their admittedly horrible, yet according to them successful attempts, Jace was always there with a watchful eye, making sure all knew who you belonged too.

He was protective too. A dragon while not in appearance but definitely in spirit. Jace would always find a way to make sure you were safest whether you wanted him to be involved or not. Even this noon when you wanted to get one last dragon ride before dinner, Jace still insisted there was no need. Yet your stubbornness knew no bounds it seems, as while his back was turned you made quick speed to where Shrykos usually slept and flew her into the great distance. A mere speck in the sky before Jace knew what had happened.

You had started the flight laughing with the biggest grin on your face, eager to see the sights from the sky. Yet of course things turned worse as men from one of the many religious groups of the seven kingdoms took notice of you and your dragon, and decided to shoot you with their admittedly massive weapons.

You dodged the best you could, and yet with a scream from both you and Shrykos, you realised you were both hit.

“DRACARYS SHRYKOS! DRACARYS!” You screamed, satisfied when you hear the hells and the screams of the men and the ships bellow. With your good arm, you steer Shrykos to the direction of dragonstone and order the instructions, before all appears to go dark.

When you wake, all seems strangely normal. That is of course, before you see the giant bandaged wound that is your arm. You can see a hint of red peeking from the bandages and are about to see if you could rewrap it, before Jacaerys comes through and with wide eyes realises you are awake and well as you can be.

“My love!” He shouts, running over and encasing you in his arms. Not hearing the low hiss you make when his hands clasp around your still admittedly sore arm. “Where have you been!? You’re hurt!” He yells, finally taking noticing your blood that steadily pools to the surface. “Let us get you to the maesters!”

As much as it hurt you to have Jace pull you like he did, you merely let it all happen so not to cause an event bigger fuss of you than what he already is making. Yet when you get to the maesters chambers and nearly find yourself fainting, that’s when you suddenly understand your husbands worry.

When you wake up though, it’s the feeling of Jaces familiar warmth that settles you as you gaze on his sleeping form. Yet as you wake, so does he it seems. As not even a few minutes after you’ve woken Jace is quick to rise with you. His eyes wide and worried as they roam you for anymore possible injuries you may possibly somehow have hidden.

“Are you alright my love?!” He asks, his eyes still roaming for even a moment of weakness from you. “There maesters took care of your arm and the arrow. And I heard word from the dragon keepers who tell me Shrykos is healing dutifully from his wounds!”

“Good.” You simply say, hissing slightly as you sit up and try to keep yourself grounded. “I’d kill then if she wasn’t.”

Jacaerys laughs at your threat, and his face looks almost serene as he just looks at you. His eyes going soft as his hands continue to hold yours. It’d be an almost affectionate moment had it not been for the sudden flare up of pain in your arm.

“Fuck!” You yell, hissing once again as you’re reminded of why you’re even in the maesters room in the first place. “It is alright husband I’m fine!” You insist seeing the worry now marking his face.

“I will worry when I want.” He simply says, kissing you on the top of your head before moving to sit next to you on the bed. His head resting on yours as he puts his arms around you. Your eyes shutting as a sudden hit of exhaustion hits you, yet you welcome it fully as Jaces arms feel just so welcoming and calming.

Alicent Hightower:

Alicent had always been like a mother to you. Caring for you when you were sick and making sure that you were always in your highest possible health. It was probably why she’d insisted since you were young to fully call her mother, even though you were not biologically related to her.

Whenever she heard about even the slightest of injuries though, she always worried relentlessly about the damage. Which is why when you appeared before her clutching a bleeding wound from your shoulder, you’re quite honestly surprised she hadn’t dropped from shock.

“Oh my darling what has happened?!” She’d gasped, frozen in shock as she stood there not knowing what really to do.

“Bastards on their boats took a few shots at me and Shrykos whilst we were on our morn flight. They got two good shots at us to hurt us but don’t worry. Before we got here Shrykos managed to give them what was coming for them…” You groan, holding your shoulder in your hand that has now from the lack of adrenaline, has begun aching dramatically.

“Oh never mind the men I care only about you!” She fusses, coming closer before stopping half way, staring between your shoulder and your pained face. Maybe Alicent will drop from shock after all.

“SOMEBODY GET THE MAESTERS!” You hear a voice yell, before all appears to go dark before your eyes. When you wake though, it is as if the light is blinding you. You blink a few times to ground yourself, and it’s with a sudden surprise you realise that you feel a familiar warmth on your hand. You turn your head slightly, stiff from the lack of movement you think, and realise Alicent is staring at you with great worry on her face.

“Are you feeling alright my darling? The maesters have cleaned and sewed up your wound, but according to them it shall take a while for it to fully heal. You must tell me dear girl, in detail, what happened out there. What did those people do to you?”

“After me and Shrykos took off, we flew to the stormlands. We were drifting round shipbreaker bay, when those men the council warned us over took notice. Crossbows the size of my arm began shooting at us mother, so I am grateful they managed to get me and Shrykos only once.” At the mention of your dragon, your face turns to worry. Yet before you say anything, your mother quickly moves to interrupt you.

“Your dragon is safe my love. The dragon keepers have been keeping me up to date on her healing, and she is steadily heading to full recovery. The arrow has been removed fully, and the wound has stopped bleeding.” She says, her face betraying her as she is unable to hide her distaste of your dragon.

“Thank you mother, I appreciate the consideration. I know you have no love for Shrykos, nor any of your children’s dragons.” You say, your honesty true as you smile in thanks and understanding.

“You’re welcome my heart…” Your mother smiles, her hand reaching out to hold yours. Which while you admittedly want to shy away from, yet you push through your discomfort to allow your mother this moment that you know your adoptive sister would not have allowed.

“I do not want you to fly unaccompanied anymore my heart,” Alicent begins, shushing your with a single movement when she sees you about to harshly protest. “I have discussed this with your brothers and sister, and they have all agreed. Aemond has already taken the duty on his ever eager shoulders, and has said he will ride with you tomorrow morn at your usual time. It may be in your best interest to thank him next time you see him.”

“Of course mother…” You sigh, already dreading Aemonds smug face and wanting to punch it. Yet you withhold yourself from groaning out loud only from your mother’s sake, who is still holding your hand with intended comfort, even though she is doing nothing but make your blood pump fast around your body. Still, you say nothing. Allowing her to believe she is comforting you with a motherly smile on her face.

Daemon Targaryen:

Daemon had always possessed an amusingly short temper. It was especially tested though whenever it regarded to you. Whenever you got yourself hurt as a child, whether than was to do with training or just an accident in the halls, he always demanded to know the man behind your pain. It’s why you weren’t at all surprised when he reacted that same way when you flew back to Dragonstone and stumbled towards him with an arrow stuck in your shoulder blade.

“Who has dared to harm you zaldritzos? Tell me so I can show them what the exact consequence is for messing with a dragon. I am sure caraxes is already fuelled with my anger alone and is ready to face those who dares spill such precious blood.” Daemon snarls, his face unable to hide its anger as he holds your body steady so it won’t suddenly collapse.

“Bastards from the bloody ships on the bloody sea. Got us good… got us good…” You slur, every word feeling forced from your very gut as your eyes grow heavier and heavier.

“Don’t you dare close those eyes zaldritzos! Don’t you fucking close them!” You hear him snarl once more. But still, you cannot resist the temptation of sleep as you disobey your father and close your eyes.

When you find yourself waking, it is Daemon is standing by you while you slept. His eyes hard and stern as they observe you.

“I suppose you’re mad?” You can’t help but say. Your face admittedly ashamed as you stare to the floor, unable to hold his stare.

“Of course I am mad!” He yelled, refusing to allow you to turn your head away as he forces you to make eye contact with him. “My daughter has gone out without telling me, and she has gotten herself hurt the same way soldiers are hurt in wars!”

“I am sorry father!” You say, tears brimming in your eyes as the disappointed and anger shines through his. “I cannot control where those bastard men sail-“

“But you can control where you fly!” Daemon yells back. His voice rough and frustrated as the inner dragon inside him comes out. “I have taught you better than this zaldritzos! I have been teaching you how to ride that dragon of yours since you were a mere child! So why was it you were no doubt flailing about the sky like an amateur, when I know you could have done better?!”

“I’M NOT LIKE YOU!” You shout, shoving your father away as he stares at you with an expressionless face. “I am not a great leader, or a great dragon rider! I am still learning father! My lessons have not yet stopped being taught! Those men on the ships who shot at us were the ones you had warned us about. The ones claiming our great traditions to be an abomination and deserving of punishment. Me and Shrykos did not know their affiliation as we flew above them. Only when the arrows began to fly for our heads did we realise… I got an arrow in the shoulder, which has now since been removed. Shrykos though listened perfectly and managed to get out of there without any particularly damaging wounds. Still, my anger shon through her, and we managed to light the whole of the fleet up in flames before we flew back home. Where of course, you found me…”

Daemon is silent throughout your rant, yet by the end, when you’re breathless with how quickly you spoke, his hand is placed on your non-injured arm in an unfamiliarly comforting manner.

“I know you are not like me zaldritzos. While I have made you in my image, I hardly expected it to be your only outcome. You have become strong. You have become a fearsome warrior able to bring honour to our family name and our ancestors. I suppose… I may have forgotten that I too have made mistakes. I am sorry zaldritzos…”

The tears that had brimmed earlier in your eyes now tear down your face now that you hear your fathers words. His pride. So you do the only thing you can think of at that moment to show your appreciation. You take your arms and place them around Daemons waist, pulling him into a hug where your head is against his chest. Thankfully his arms seem to automatically go around your own body, and you can’t help but find this act comforting and safe.

“Thank you…” You can’t help but murmur.

“I would never let anything hurt you…” He murmurs back. Words which to anyone else may sound meaningless, but to you, you know they hide your father’s true feeling of care.

Rhaenyra Targaryen:

Rhaenyra had always been a sort of mother to you. A light to guide you in the darkest of your days. Whenever you took ill or had an injury, it was always she who stood by your bed, holding your hand in her own. Even though both husbands and loyal guards warned her of her possibly falling ill herself. Not that she ever did somehow though.

It was like that now. That afternoon, you had decided on a whim to take Shrykos on a fight around the coasts bordering the land surrounding Dragonstone. Yet it seems you coincidentally forgot Daemons talk about the rising threat of a religious group following faithfully the followings of the seven, as you tried to fly past them calmly and peacefully. Shrieking in fear when you realise it was not a harmless fly that flew past your face just now, but a very deadly steel-tipped arrow.

You barely made it out of there alive. The only injuries you yourself sustaining being a few arrow nicks on your shoulders, and the worse of it being a shallow puncture from one of the few successful shots. Shrykos though took most of the hits. Her rage seething the more those pathetic men tried to harm both her and her rider. It was quite satisfying you must say, when you flew away with the fresh smell of burning corpses still behind you, lingering on your clothes.

Yet when you got back home and were standing in front of your mother, that satisfaction quickly changed to a strange sort of guilt when you see her horror struck face.

“What has happened my darling!” She tells, taking ahold of your arm to look at your injury while you yell at her to try and say you were fine, even though you wince as soon as she yanks you towards her.

“Bloody men on the coast of Gull Town decided to shoot at us from their fucking boats. They got only a few good shots before Shrykos managed to get to them. By the time we left, we ensured they became fire and ash. I doubt there are any men alive after that….” You say, barely able to stand as the sudden blood loss reaches you.

You’re barely able to think as your mother brings you to the castle hanging on her shoulder. Soon, maesters surround you whilst your mother fusses by your bed to the left of you. She insists and demands certain things, but by the end, your grateful to feel the pain in your arm significantly lessen not only due to the lack of wooden arrow, but also due to the large amount of milk of the poppy that was pretty much forced down your throat.

“Is it all better now my darling?” Your mother asks, putting your hand between her own to soothe you as if you were a small child who’d scuffed their leg falling on some loose gravel.

“It is fine mother!” You insist. Even smiling as you play the part of the healthy child, able to bounce back from any injuries. Yet somehow she can still manage to see through your facade.

“Are you sure?” She asks again. Her brow raised in questioning as she makes you feel like a young child again. Small, and helpless as you cry to mother.

“Yes I am fine!” You firmly say, taking your hand from hers and placing it on the cold clinical bed sheets. Already missing the familial warmth your mother’s hands had provided you with. “I do not need you pressing!”

“Okay my love. I believe you.” Rhaenyra smiles, acknowledging her child’s want for independence. Moving from the chair she previously had sat on so she can place a quick kiss to the top of your head and smile fondly at the way your nose scrunches. “I will leave you now my love. The maesters had said you’ll fully heal by the moons next turn, but you’re fit to leave the bed tomorrow morn. I’ll visit you then.”

As quick as Rhaenyra leaves, you find yourself already wanting her motherly touch to tell you it’s okay. Your legs tucking under your chin as you hold yourself under the covers, letting your eyes shut so hopefully you’re able to wake up tomorrow by your mother’s voice.

Helaena Targaryen:

Compared to all your other family members, it has always been Helaena you were closest too. A close bond forging between the two of you since girlhood that not once has ever been broken.

You were with her when she claimed Dreamfyre, just as she was there for you when you claimed Shrykos. You also made sure to try and be with her whenever she experienced one of her, moments.

Yet that morning, you were way too busy trying to get ready for your usual morn flight to be with her when she took what the queen would call, a funny turn.

‘Blood of the dragon lost twice over. Beware the boats from bellow filled with men of hate.’

She’d seen your injury and the fire coming from your dragons mouth, and being the anxious person she was, she waited at the dragon keeps entrance with her hands fiddling with each other.

When you fly in holding your arm to try and stem the blood, getting off with difficultly as you try and not fall, you almost scare yourself when you turn and suddenly find yourself face to face with Helaena, who holds a bandage ready to treat you with it.

“Give me your arm…” She softly asks, waiting for you to release your arm from your grip so she can slowly and carefully take the arrow from your arm, choosing to ignore your vocal cries of pain so she can make sure to get the arrow out. When she does, she chooses to just drop the bloody wooden chunk to the floor so she can quickly wrap your now gushing wound, which she cleans with a slightly damp clothe that can’t have been out of the water bowl for long.

“What happened?” She asked while she cleaned your red streaked arm.

“Do you remember those men Aemond warned us about? The ones who hate us for our heritage?” You ask, waiting to hear Helaena unique hum to show she’s truly listening. “Well when I was flying by Tarth, those men were in there boats and obviously spotted me before I spotted them. So they shot at me till they hit me.” You shrug, regretting it soon as you did as you hiss at the sudden flare up of pain.

“It’ll hurt badly. I didn’t manage to take any milk of the poppy from the maesters, so we’ll probably need to visit them soon.” Helaena simply says, giving you a smile before she takes your hand in her own. An act you cannot say in words how much it means to you, given how you know of her usual revulsion for physical touch.

So you stay silent. Allowing her to lead you to the maesters with a small smile on your face, that is wiped right off when you become face to face with them. They stare at your with judgement and soulless eyes as they remove you from Helaenas comforting warmth and instead force you to feel cold metal against your flesh. They ignore you as they unwrap the bandages. Only giving each other looks as they wordlessly judge the state of your body.

It almost makes you want to tear their heads from their bodies and feed them to Shrykos. Who no doubt is feeling your frustrations and anger down in the dragon pit.

Yet you hold your tongue for Helaenas sake, who is watching the maesters take supposed special care of you from the corner of the room. She gives you small smiles whenever you make eye contact, and it’s only with them you manage to pull through. The milk of the puppy though they force down your throat certainly makes you more cooperative though you must say.

“Thank you Hel, for looking after me.” You say, staring at her as soon as the maesters deemed you healed enough and left you. No doing to go get the queen to inform her of your sudden injury.

“It is no problem…” She softly smiles back, moving forward to stand next to you so she can hold your hand in her own. Her soft flesh relaxing you possibly even more than the drugs flowing through your system. “I will always be there for you…”

Laenor Valeryon:

Even though you always knew that Laenor could never truly be your father, he nonetheless always managed to act like one better than anyone. While your mother was busy attending to your brothers, it was Laenor who was always busy attending to you, making sure you were fussed in a way a princess should be fussed.

He always made sure to give you the bestest care a princess may need it. Like right now for instance.

“I NEED A MAESTER RIGHT FUCKING NOW!” You remember your father screaming while your vision slowly began to blur in a variety of difference places. “Where are you hurt ñuha nūmio? Where is the pain? What can I do?”

“Arrow in the fucking shoulder.” You groan, bile building in your throat as you resist the urge to vomit. “Only there father. Shrykos was hit too. Fuck it hurts so much…”

“Do not worry dear girl! The maester will come!” As he says this, guards come running with a maester in tow. The guards take ahold of you carefully as you nearly collapse under the sudden blood rush. The maester barking orders for what to do to you to cause the least amount of damage to your body as possible.

When you get to the healing room, you’re placed roughly onto a bed where now a whole group of maesters now flock to you like a group of crows over a fresh carcass. They all say a different method on how to treat you, yet it’s Laenor whose voice shines louder than them all.

“You will not cut up or harm my daughter!” He yells, his voice firm and harsh as he glares at them all. “You will take out that fucking arrow, and you will heal her. Or I swear, as the heir of the realms husband, I’ll make all of you fucking regret it!”

All is silent, and yet with a firm glare they all scatter to complete your father’s order. Soon, cloth is finding its way in your mouth to quench your screams as hands force the arrow once imbedded in your arm is forced onto a silver plate. Blood gushing down your arm in an admittedly disturbing manner.

By the end, there is an elder looking maester stitching up your blood coated arm, and an arrow head and some wood pieces. Laenor held your hand with every scream and every clench of your body. He made sure you felt as safe as you could in the presence of the same type of men who killed your aunt. He also made sure to quickly push them out as soon as they were done with there work. Nodding along in a dismissive manner as they insist they are still needed.

When they are eventually shushed away however, with the door shut quickly behind them, Laenor quickly finds himself by your side again. His hand laced firmly in yours as he takes a lone damp cloth so he can clean away the dried blood still decorating your wounded flesh.

“Does it hurt much? I can always call a maid to fetch you some milk of the poppy?” Laenor insisted, his touch delicate as he makes sure not to harm you in any way.

“It merely stings…” You shrug, wincing though soon as you do due to the sudden flare up in your shoulder. “I do not need any milk of the poppy father. I can manage my pain.”

“I can see that…” He grins, even chuckling when he sees your own smile. “Though, I must ask. What happened? You did not exactly give me much information before the maesters came for us.”

“Me and Shrykos began our normal journey to the direction of Runestone. But on the coast of Gull town, it appears those men mother had recently warned us about, the ones who deem our customs immoral and a disgrace to a seven, spotted us before we spotted them. They took no time before they were shooting at us with giant crossbows on their ship. They took us by surprise, and managed to get only a single time, but that was enough to enact Shrykos’ rage. I didn’t even say the command father! Shrykos enacted our joined rage and set fire to their ships and their bodies. If they weren’t dead by the time we left, I am almost sure they are all at least dead by now.”

He takes in your words carefully. Murmuring small words every so often while he holds your hand as a sigh of sympathy. When your done though, his face is smeared in deep anger. A hatred you have never seen your father show ever before in your lifetime.

“Well it’s a good think they are dead though,” He finally says, snapping from his thoughts with a huff. “Because if they were alive, Seasmoke would be gorging on a feast right now!”

“Thank you father…” You simply say, falling into his arms that welcome you immediately. You close your eyes and allow yourself to bask in his familiar comforting warmth.

[froggiewrites]

i love your writing so much and im so glad you opened requests!! :) i would love if you wrote a fic about zoro being dominant (maybe some spanking/spitting?) him having a dirty mouth, and perhaps some edging? i have another idea that i'll send in a diff message too! even if you dont choose this one i look forward to reading the others <3

I've never written anything with a lot of dirty talk or dominance before, but I tried my best, and I hope I did it justice! 😊

Playing Rough

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You're being terribly stubborn, insisting on fighting battles you can't handle. Zoro decides to put you in your place. Warnings: Smut, Dom Zoro, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Slight Edging, Begging Word Count: 2.4k

It was a stupid argument, one that shouldn’t have happened.

The battle you had been through was rough, sure, but you didn’t take any damage that wouldn’t heal. Zoro had insisted you not fight on your own, not take on any challenge you couldn’t handle, and you had insisted that you were more than capable of handling it. And you were. You came home, didn’t you? And the bruises might be nasty and the stitches weren’t terribly fun either, but you were in one piece. You had managed to hobble your way back to the ship on your own, and you didn’t even collapse before making it into Zoro’s arms.

You were too out of it to comprehend the words he said, though you understood the panic and fear in his tone well enough. And you certainly understood the words he spoke when you first woke up.

“Are you stupid?”

“Excuse me?”

Before you could truly get angry, his arms were around you, crushing you against his chest. You can feel a slight tremor as he takes a deep breath, nose buried in your hair, taking in your scent, your warmth, any evidence that you are here with him and alive. He takes a shuddering inhale, the closest thing to weakness you’ve ever heard from him, before his voice comes back again, rough and absolutely furious. “You almost died.”

“I didn’t almost die.” You try to say it sweetly, soothingly, but his fingers tighten in a way that is less than kind.

“You almost died. You went even though you knew you shouldn’t, and you almost died. I almost lost you.” His voice isn’t shaking, not quite, but you swear you feel the tremor anyway. Zoro is not a man easily rattled, yet somehow you have shaken him to his very foundation.

“You could never lose me, Zoro. I knew what I was doing, I promise.”

“You knew the risk you were taking?”

“Yes. But I had to do it.” You bring a hand up to run through his hair. “I knew I would come back. I knew what I was doing, and I knew I was strong enough. I promise.”

You’re suddenly devoid of his warmth as he pulls away, glaring at you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Chopper said if you got back even a few minutes later…” He trails off, clenching his teeth.

“But I didn’t,” you insist. “Everything turned out fine, Zoro.”

“Do you think that’s all that matters?”

“Kind of!”

He huffs. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He stalks out of the room, slamming the door as he leaves. You throw yourself back onto the bed, wincing as you realize your ribs are very much broken. Every inch of you is bruised, and it hurts to breathe. But it was worth it. He would understand that eventually. Not every fight has a pretty ending, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t finish them.

He did not understand, as it turns out.

He still helped you as you healed, your dear protector always carrying you so gently, so purposefully. But you could feel the distance, the tension. Neither of you acknowledged it, focusing on your health first and foremost, but it haunted every moment you two were together. Touches were fleeting, conversation was sparse. But finally, finally, today you have been officially given a clean bill of health by Chopper.

“You’re cleared for everyday activity, but I still want you to stay out of fights for a while. And don’t do anything that reckless again!” Chopper’s words are law when it comes to your health, so you’ll do your best, but you can’t help but think of how no one else on this ship would follow such instructions.

“I’ll try.” No promises you can’t keep, and Chopper purses his lips a little when he realizes, but after a moment he simply nods. He’s used to patients even more stubborn than you, of course.

As you leave the office, ready to get back to your regular life, you’re instantly met by Zoro’s broad chest as he pulls you into him.

“You’re fine now?” There’s a tension to his voice you don’t fully understand.

“I–yeah? I guess?”

“Good.” He throws you over his shoulder, not exactly gently, now that he knows being rough with you won’t open your stitches.

“What are you doing?” You try to pull yourself up to see where he’s taking you, but he gives you a quick swat on the ass that makes you squeak as you fall limp again.

“You’ll see.” He jogs down a hallway you only recognize right before you reach your destination: his room. When the door slams shut behind you, enclosing you in darkness, it almost sounds like a death knell.

He throws you onto the bed carelessly, pushing a hand onto your stomach to keep you from bouncing. His other hand makes quick work of your pants as you squirm, not out of fear but out of pure confusion.

“Zoro? What’s going on?”

“We have a conversation to finish.” His voice is flat. You don’t need to ask him which conversation. You know damn well which one. He’s finally rid you of your pants, throwing them carelessly to the floor, and he begins to work on the buttons of your shirt.

“Is that what this is going to be? A conversation?”

He hums. “No, I guess not.” His callused hands are rough against your bare skin as he unhooks your bra and grabs your breasts. “You aren’t going to be doing much talking, today. It’s finally time for you to listen.” He kneads your chest for a moment, pinching harshly, before he moves to slide off your panties.

“Listen?” Your voice is a little strained as you feel his fingers slide against your bare skin for the first time in weeks.

“Yeah, listen. You weren’t willing before, so I have to try something else.” He flips you over before pulling you onto his lap, ass in the air. “Make you remember our roles here.”

“Our roles?”

“Yeah. I’m the protector of the ship, of our crew. That’s my job.”

“Oh? And what’s mine?”

“In general? To survive. Right now? To take what I give you.”

“And what are you giving me?”

“Do you think you’re in a position to interrogate me right now?” His hand grabs one of your ass cheeks, an attempt to remind you exactly who’s in charge. And you know, of course, who’s in charge here. But that doesn’t mean you can’t push him.

“You’ve been answering, haven’t you?” You can’t keep the mischief out of your voice.

He chuckles in spite of himself. “Yeah, I have. I’m being too nice, aren’t I?” His voice gets a little deeper, an intensity creeping in. “I’ll give you one more, as a treat. I’m giving you exactly what you’ve earned, for acting so fucking recklessly. And then, if you’re good? I’ll give you my cock. I’m sure you want it, hm? All cooped up in the infirmary for weeks, thinking about it, knowing you can’t have it. I bet it’s been driving you insane.”

With that, you feel the sharp sting of his hand as he brings it down. It makes you cry out as it connects with your soft flesh, but you know he isn’t using even half of his strength, holding back, somehow taking care of you even now. You feel him harden when he does it, though you can’t tell if it’s from the sound you make or from the action itself. Maybe both. His hand gently caresses the growing handprint, a moment of tenderness, before he raises his hand again and you tense.

“Just relax, sweetheart. It can’t be any worse than what you put us through.” Another smack, this one on the other cheek, and another, and another, alternating each time. You can’t help the small squeaks and whines you let out, and Zoro can’t hide the effect they have on him, breathing growing heavier and smacks becoming more intense as you both lose yourselves.

“That’s it. One more. You can take one more.”

“Ah!”

“That’s right. Another. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You’re practically dripping.” You clench your thighs together, trying to hide the fact that he’s right, about this, about the fight, about everything here. When you try, he tuts, bringing his hand down yet again, making you jolt. “Don’t go hiding yourself from me, pretty thing. You’re mine, every inch of you. You can’t hide a thing from me. Can you say it for me, sweet thing? Admit that you’re mine?”

“I’m yours, Zoro!”

“And that I was right?”

“You were—ah!” His hand comes down again, but you force your way through. “You were right, Zoro!”

“There we go.” His hands finally stop, coming to rest on your red and stinging ass. “Was that so hard to admit?”

You keep silent, your stubbornness still carrying you through.

He laughs at you. “You know, I could add a bit to your punishment for not answering. But,” his fingers find your entrance, wet and waiting, “I think you’d probably like that, huh?”

You hum, pushing your face into the bed, trying to hide your red face and ears. He lifts you up, pulling you up into a sitting position, holding your chin and forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Hiding again? You really liked your punishment, didn’t you? As much as I’d love to continue, that’s not all I had in store. So eyes on me.”

He quickly strips off his shirt before easily lifting you with one arm so he can slide off his pants. As he does, you can see a wet spot where you were resting. It’s a little mortifying, realizing how easily he can turn you to putty in his hands, literally dripping wet for him. Your embarrassment quickly subsides when he frees his cock, red and twitching, and you realize you hold just as much sway over him as he does over you. He lines himself up with your entrance, ready to give you exactly what you want.

As he slowly slides you down on his cock, you let out a moan, and he groans in response. His eyes are locked onto where your bodies meet, taking in the sight of you stretching around him. “Fuck, you take me so perfectly. Like you were made for me.”

Once he’s fully sheathed in you, you both take a moment to breathe in, enjoying the feeling of this first sweet stretch. The second you breathe out, he begins to bounce you roughly, making you squeak. “Oh, you thought I was going to go easy on you now?” He laughs, continuing his fast pace, fingertips digging into your hips. “Fuck, you feel so good, pretty thing. Bouncing on my cock just like that.”

One hand leaves your hips, moving up your body, finding its place at your chest. He pinches your nipples, making you squeal, before he leans forward, breathing heavily in your ear. “God, when you squeeze around me like that…” he squeezes your chest again, moaning. “You kill me, sweetheart.”

His hips continue to snap harshly into yours, pounding relentlessly as the sounds of slapping skin fill the room. His lips latch onto your neck, sucking and leaving a mark that clearly defines you as his. You can feel the heat rising as your orgasm builds, your sounds growing more wanton and desperate as Zoro begins to pound into you even faster, and faster.

And then it stops.

“Wha–”

You can feel the rumble of his chest against your back as he laughs. “Oh, did you think I was going to just give it to you?”

“I–But–I was good,” you say petulantly. Your voice is still a half whine as you try to ground yourself, the tension in your body slowly unraveling and leaving nothing but a cold dissatisfaction.

“Hm.” He presses his cheek to your shoulder, humming as though he’s thinking. “Well. Maybe if you beg you can cum on my cock. If you’re real sweet about it.”

It’s embarrassing how quickly the frantic cry leaves your mouth. “Please, please, please Zoro can I cum? Please?”

“Hm. I think you can do better.”

“Please, can I cum on your cock, Zoro! Please, I need you, please!”

“Alright. Since you asked so nicely.”

His fingers find your clit, rubbing circles around it. He enters you again, pace slower this time, but strokes deep and deliberate. You can feel every inch of him as he pulls in and out, feel the heat of his breath on your ear, hear his quiet moans as you clench around him. He will give you your release, but not as quickly as you want it. You’ll get it on his terms.

Even still, you reach your precipice quickly, and he whispers huskily in your ear. “Are you ready?”

You’re beyond all practical thought at this point, but you still manage two simple words. “Yes! Please.”

“Alright then, pretty thing. Cum for me.” With one final thrust, one final movement of his fingers, you do, gushing around him as the world shatters. You’re panting, desperate for breath, but you can’t seem to make your lungs listen to you over the symphony of pleasure you’re drowning in. Right as you manage to regain some control of yourself, you can feel Zoro go tense beneath you before you feel him spill inside of you, filling you to the brim as he quietly moans out your name. 

You both sit together a moment, you limp in Zoro’s arms as he falls back onto the bed, before he speaks up.

“Promise me you’ll never do anything like that again. Really.” His arms wrap around you a little tighter. “I…I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.”

“I won’t do it again, Zoro, I promise.” Your voice is weak, but you look up to see a sincere smile creep onto his face and you know he heard you. “...Are there other things that might get me punished like this? Less deadly things?”

He laughs. “Oh, there are plenty. And I’m sure you’ll do them all.” His hand runs through your hair affectionately. “But I’ll find more excuses to spank you later. I think you need some rest.”

With that, you two simply lay together, the only sound in the room your quiet breaths and the sound of Zoro’s heartbeat, growing slower and slower as you both drift off.

[urfavlarry]

hi!!! can you write joost x fem!reader

where joost and reader are on the tour together, so many people are shipping them, but them themself are too shy to act on their feelings, when finally during the concert joost performs friesenjung (while reader does some back vocal or shit) and when it comes to the part "Motherfucker, ich küsse deine Schwester" he randomly takes courage to kiss the reader!?!?!?!? 🫶

Have to get this off my chest, I’m telling you today

Joost Klein x fem!reader

warnings: not proof read, swearing

A/N: this is a bit short and the ending is so baad but I tried to cook something up for you cuz I havent been posting that often lmao

｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ ｡

╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

It was a long day. Your whole body was sweating and you were almost out of breath, the hot hair in the bar you were performing in making it hard to grasp even a small amount of air. You were a DJ of sort for Joosts concert, playing his songs, some backing vocals and overall just made the experience just a tad bit livelier. It was amazing, the people singing along to every possible song, even Joosts new song “Luchtballon” which was surprising how people already knew the words after such a short period of time. It was time to play one of his classics, Friesenjung which you yourself adored and Joost knew that. He smiled at the crowd, that beautiful, silly smile that managed to light up the room.

The flash of the phones making you barely see the crowd but their excited voices could only make you imagine the looks on their faces. The song was slowly coming to an end, only about a minute left and you could finally go home and have a fun weekend with friends.

“Motherfucker, ich küsse deine Schwester.”

You felt soft lips on yours, the world around you stopping as you collect your thoughts. The voices, screams, music were muffled, everything blurry except one person, and that person was Joost. He eyes you for the rest of the song, your stomach turning and knees weak. The song finally ended, thanking all the gods, before quickly going backstage and gathering your stuff, speed walking out the front door and look for your car in the dark parking lot. When you did find it you heard footsteps behind you, fast ones at that. You knew it was Joost, no fan would be crazy enough to chase you in a parking lot when you looked like you just had the worst nights of your life. Ever since that kiss, you got terribly aware of yourself. Your body was sweaty, hair sticking to your forehead and your clothing clung to you in a very uncomfortable way making you squirm. Before you could shut the door of your car, Joost stopped it and opened it once again, letting the cool air hit you like a truck.

He gently pulled you out the car, pulling you into a hug you didn’t return. You still felt disgusting, the awareness not leaving you so Joost awkwardly pulled away. He looked you in the eyes, it looked like he was desperate to know what you felt in that moment. “Liefde I.. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.. I really didn’t.” He said, but you just stayed silent, looking down at your feet hoping for this very awkward situation to end. You loved Joost with your whole heart, but all of this was very sudden and you didn’t get time to gather your thoughts.. making your voice get stuck in your throat every time you wanted to say something. Joost looked hurt, it was like you but a dagger through his heart but he put on a soft smile. “Yeah I get it liefje.. I’ll see you next Friday yeah?” Right, you were supposed to perform again next week, how exciting. You nod before getting inside your car, giving him a small wave before driving away leaving him to stand alone, heartbroken in the empty parking lot.

Friday came by faster then usual, you felt more happy and confident then you did last Friday. You were wearing one of your favourite outfits you felt good in, feeling clean and pretty.. everything goes as planned so far which was how most good days started so you were more then confident to perform that night. When you got to the venue, Joost wasn’t there yet which was odd since he was always there to greet you with a hug and smile on his face, sometimes even a small gift like a coffee or sweet treat. It felt lonely without him but you decided to wait patiently, setting the stage up when he finally showed up looking very upset. You ran up to him, pulling him into a hug which he returned. It looked like the hug lightened his mood, making you smile. “We got this yeah? We’ll talk after the show I promise.. Do your worst.” You tease making him chuckle and walk on stage along with you, the crowd screaming.

The show went by smoothly without any complications, which was relieving but now you had to talk to Joost. Suddenly everything you practiced you would say left your mind, your knees going weak and hands go cold and shaky.

Joost stood there backstage, waiting for you when he noticed you and eyed you closely. You hyped yourself up before walking towards him, cupping his cheek and pulling him into a loving kiss. Joost smirked into the kiss, his hands trailing down to your waist, pulling you closer. It was a long kiss, air slowly leaving your body but even after Joost had the energy to kiss you. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around and tasting every corner of your mouth. By the time he pulled away you were breathing heavily, lips swollen and your whole body weak. “Missed my touch so badly, hm?” He asked with a smirk making you look away, cheeks hot and head fuzzy. He put a finger on your jaw so he could make you look right back at him. He smiled and kissed your forehead, bringing you into an embrace. “I’m so glad you came back.. I was literally going mad without you.” You smirk and look up at him. “Missed me that bad, hm?” He chuckled opening the back door and walked you to your car, this time hand in hand.

You turned to him, the moons light shining into his beautiful blue eyes making him look angelic. “Thanks.. for tonight. You were great.” You say, awkwardly scratching your head and he nods. “Yeah, thanks. Well.. see you tommorow?” He asks and you raise a brow, your next show was next week? Did you have plans for tommorow you forgot about? The confused expression on your face amused him, laughing it off and whispered in your ear. “Just get ready for 7pm. Nothing too fancy but dress nice for me.. ‘kay?” He says and kisses your cheek before walking off. “Slaapwel mijn lievered.” (Sleep tight my sweet.)

[izzabela]

Hi there! Could write different scenarios of the Lin Kuei brothers who are watching a TV show with their significant other for the first time and a sensual scene comes on and they don't know how to respond between embarrassed and slightly turned on but trying to conceal it (yet failing to lol), and the reader notices it and finds it amusing and teasing them about it? 🤭

Is This Media? - Lin Kuei Trio x GN!reader (scenario fic & modern au)

in which Tomas, Kuai Liang, and Bi Han react to the shows you watch (Bridgerton S2-3 & Queen Charlotte spoilers!)

a/n: as a child, my parents often covered my eyes during kiss scenes or any romance, so I have some ideas on how they'd react

ship[s]: tomas, kuai liang, bi han x gn!reader (scenario fic)

warning(s): suggestive end(s)

Bi Han

Rotting is only for food, plants, and dead animals.

So the fact that Bi Han managed to waste a day on the couch, with you, wrapped in fluffy blankets, with chips on both side of you, and watching Bridgerton, was an incredible feat in it of itself.

Although it was your day off, Bi Han decided to end his own day early, handing off his responsibilities to his brothers back at the office. He had full faith in them, and he missed you (on the DL though). He felt as if he didn't spend enough time with you, so home he went.

He was hoping to hit the gym with you, walk around the park, even go out to those café's you enjoyed. However, when he found you wrapped up like a little babushka with the blanket over your head and chips in your mouth, he knew you had planned something out for the both of you.

So now, he lays next to you as you watch the latest season of Bridgerton, season three with Penelope and Colin. Truth be told, you were watching because Anthony and Kate were making huge cameos, but the season turned out to be decent in your eyes. Bi Han, on the other hand, complained about every little thing.

"The costumes aren't historically accurate," he grumbled at one scene, biting his chip angrily.

"Symbolism seems to be a petty scapegoat in these kinds of shows" he groaned at another scene, one with Penelope writing some stuff down. "I mean, her name is 'Pen' and she holds a quill- how obvious does it get?!"

Seriously, he reminded you of your dad when watching these types of shows.

Now it came to the turning point of the romance, and both characters managed to be alone together. The screen was filled with tension, and the fact both characters are so close, a millimeter from touching, killed you.

"Kiss! Come on, Colin, don't flake now!" you squealed, gripping onto Bi Han's hand as your wishes came true.

While you were giggling your feet like a school girl who just got asked out, Bi Han was quiet and still. His eyes remained glued on the screen, watching as both characters explored one another (to the length they were allowed to go for the rating).

He could feel his pants and underwear suddenly becoming tight, his body growing just a degree warmer, and a warm flush grow on his cheeks and ears. He coughs, trying to distract himself, then reaches for your water bottle on the coffee table in front of you.

You gasp at the betrayal, watching him down the water fast. Like a parched athlete, he's finally done and wipes his mouth after one last gulp. You may have laughed at first, but when you see him shift his pants from under the blanket, the full picture is drawn.

Your eyes catch how his eyes don't meet yours, the pink on his ears and cheeks, even the way he's breathing. He's covering his face and turning away, hoping you leave him alone.

"L-let us continue!" he huffs as he sits back down, his legs bent in a way so the blanket doesn't land on his crotch area.

You turn to him with a sly brow and a smirk, scooting closer to him as you tease your boyfriend.

"Are you... nervous dear?" You poke his cheek as he tries to play it off. "Pen and Colin's scene got you acting all crazy?"

"Don't fill your head with delusion," Bi Han says gruffly, turning away like a toddler who got caught stealing cookies. You just laugh as you keep making fun of him, teasing him for his reactions to Hollywood magic.

You coo and place your hand under his cheek, turning it gently to pepper his face in kisses as an apology for "being mean". As you placed kisses on his forehead, nose, and eyelids, he catches your lips in his as he shoves his tongue in the tavern of your mouth. His hand cups your cheek, and you dig your hands into his hair.

When you finally pull away, you boop his nose and giggle, "Still embarrassed?" Bi Han just scoffs, topping you on the couchas he cages you with his arms.

Bi Han throws the blanket away from his body, lifting his shirt over his head to reveal his firm body.

"We'll see who's embarrassed after this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kuai Liang

You cuddled in close to Kuai Liang as you two watched an episode of Bridgerton season two. In order for you to prepare for season three, you decided to rewatch the other two seasons (plus Queen Charolette) to remind yourself where you were in the series.

Kuai Liang had just finished taking a shower, since he came home from work at the office with his brothers. He wasn't supposed to be seated here, his services were needed to make dinner, but here he was.

You giggled as you fed yourself popcorn from the huge bowl that sat in between your left leg and Kuai's right leg. While you were enjoying the show, Kuai Liang sat there an scrutinized every detail of the show.

You first watched the show by yourself, as Kuai Liang was busy doing his own thing. However, during this rewatch marathon of yours, he began to watch the show. It started with him standing from the kitchen, arms crossed as he examined everything in the show.

He knew he and his brothers acted similarly, but even twins are not a hundred percent the same (they aren't twins, just making a comparison). Unlike Bi Han, who was vocal on the cheesiness of the show, Kuai Liang remained silent and reserved. He wasn't completely emotionless, as he laughed during some parts that he found amusing.

What he didn't laugh at, though, was the raunchy scene between Kate and Anthony.

You watch the scene with wide and intense eyes, the characters leaving the ballroom only to meet under the gazebo of the Bridgerton backyard. The scene is filled with forbidden love, secrets, and the undying need to touch one another.

"I don't understand, they were dancing so well together, why are they mad?" He asks, genuinely perplexed at the change-up of the actors' feelings.

Ah, you forgot he didn't understand subtle acting. And the fact he asks many questions during these kinds of shows.

You squeal, gripping onto Kuai Liang's bicep as you explain the scene to him.

"Anthony is supposed to be hitting it off with Kate's little sister, but he doesn't like her like that. They danced together like that because Kate was trying to leave for India, to get away from him and his love..."

The scene suddenly changes, and both actors are all over each other as they dive into one another's mouths. The erotic sounds of their moans and groans fills the surround system of the T.V., and Kuai Liang finds himself uncomfortable at the sudden display of... hefty affection.

You scream, practically bursting his eardrum, but he finds it enjoyable because you're so excited.

Did he find the show predictable and boring? Yes.

Did he love you in your entirety? Even more yes.

And that trumps every other emotion he could ever feel towards this show.

As the characters kiss, Kuai just sits in contemplation at the media in front of him. Since when did media get to this point? He thinks, adjusting himself in his seat.

As much as he tries to remain calm and collected, his neck is slightly pink and warm to the touch. His palms also begin to sweat buckets, and you can see him rub his hands up and down his legs as he tries to wipe the signs of nervousness away.

You're gripping onto his bicep as you watch Kate and Anthony go at it like starving wolves, however his arm is a bit wet. You look up at your boyfriend and see his nervous face.

Cheeky ideas fill your mind as you watch Kuai Liang's furrowed brow, the sweat that crawling down his face, and his straight and pursed lips. You giggle as you look between the growing sensuality of the scene and Kuai Liang, finally piecing the puzzle together.

He was flushed, and all due to Hollywood screenwriting. Adorable.

You go snd sit on his lap, using your arm to wipe the sweat on his forehead (and using this opportunity). You chuckle at his preteen reaction to your show, squishing his cheeks as you tease him. He rolls his eyes as a joke, placing his hands on your hips to keep you steady.

"Hot and bothered over scripted sets?" you giggle some more. "The mighty Kuai Liang, downed by a simple love scene!"

Kuai Liang pulls you closer with one arm, and his other crawls to the back of your head as your nose and his almost touch. In his lap, you can feel the growing muscle in his crotch area, and suddenly you're reminded of your position in all of this.

You gulp nervously, and Kuai Liang plants a loving kiss on your forehead.

"We'll see who's high and mighty after this scene."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tomas

Tomas doesn't remember watching a movie in his youth.

Before his family passed, movies were considered a luxury due to their economic status. Although adopted into a new family, movies were not really in the picture, either, since he was raised into supporting Bi Han alongside Kuai Liang.

It was through you he saw the beauty in movies, the cheesiness of Hollywood, and the talent of amazing screenwriters.

Through you, he saw horrific tales of slasher films, dramas of soap operas, even Hallmark. With more time, he discovered streaming shows thanks to your endless subscriptions.

He also realized how romance was your go-to genre, and how you were obsessed with Bridgerton at the very moment.

Was he just as attached as you? Yes.

He found the spin off much more endearing, since the chemistry between both actors felt so real. The script was amazing, not to mention he cried a bit.

Right now, you two were watching the spin off, Queen Charlotte, as it was the latest release before season 3.

You two stayed in your bedroom, as there was a TV inside. Cuddled close, you two had an assortment of snacks on top of a towel in between both of you.

You watched with a slack jaw and a palm full of cookies as the scene where the king and queen are in front of a fire, only in pajamas, and flirting heavily.

"Oh my goodness," you gasp as you turn to Tomas, who's a bit confused.

"What, my dear?" he asks, quirked brow and a perplexed face.

"It's the 'I'm good with buttons' scene!" you exclaim and shove a cookie in your mouth.

Tomas turns back to the screen and watches how the king slowly walks up to the queen, says the line, and slowly kisses her.

Cutely, Tomas raises his arms up to hide behind them, only peeking through his fingers to check. As he checks, the scene grows more and more haughty, and so does he.

Tomas is pink from neck to forehead, his hands covered his face completely, and he's got a raging boner in his pants. It wasn't the actress, no (though she is beautiful), it was the scene itself.

I mean, when did media do this?

As Tomas coughs to try and cool himself down, shifting in his seat, your head is turned to his attention. It's so obvious what he's trying to hide, and he isn't doing a good job either.

You scoot closer to him, nudging him with your elbow as you tease him.

"How many times have we watched movies like this, and you still get so flustered!" you tease him and he just groans as he tries to play it cool.

"Darling please," he whines as he turns away. "It's just so... explicit!"

You laugh as you kiss his hand that covers his face, "Come on, honey, it isn't that bad."

You pry his fingers off until his cute pink face in view. You giggle as you kiss his nose, then his cheek, settling into his lap as you do so.

You can feel his rock hard member locked away behind is pants, and both of you are trapped in an air of lust and wanting.

Tomas voices his wanting, using his newfound skills from the show.

"I'm just as good with button, if you want to test my skills."

=====================

EASY MONEY

guys my inbox is getting full i love this

okay see yall in the next fic!

[cillsworld]

Help me doctor Crane✧₊⁺

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Ship|Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary|you run into Jonathan out of fear and he takes advantage of the situation.

Word Count|1344

Warnings|smut(18+!), age gap!, oral(m!rec), deep throating, chocking, crying?, kidnapping, innocent! reader, dub-con?

Notes|soo this is my first like smut writing or fanfic ever, well it's a drabble but ykyk. I think it's okay but I don't love it, also had no idea how to end it so it's a bit random but yeah😭 hope u enjoy! masterlist

"Oh look at you, such a pretty little thing.." His raspy but quiet voice sighed out, itching a part of your brain in the most pleasant way, his presence fully intoxicating you; from the odd way he smelt or how he held your face, squeezing your cheeks between one hand while mocking you.

"practically ran into the belly of the beast and why? Because you were scared?" the condescendence was dripping from his tone as he chuckled dryly, finding it hilarious that after being sprayed by one of his goons you had run to his arms for comfort, and now you're stuck here in his little 'base'; whining behind the cloth he had hastily stuffed in your mouth, struggling against the restraints he had put on you while your brain was still hazy, somehow managing to bind you to a support beam.

"what am I gonna do with you hmm?" He continued in a bit of an agitated tone, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared you down, "I could just.. kill you?" he muttered out and your eyes naturally widened, the dangers of this situation setting in, specially when you saw the gleam in his eyes, a muffled whimper escaped you.

"but that would be such a waste..." He was almost talking to himself now in a barely audible tone, his eyes dropping to blatantly check you out.

You tried speaking from behind the gag, wanting to have a say in the matter of your own life and death; he rose an eyebrow in response, reaching up to untie it, seemingly interested in what you have to say for his own amusement.

"please don't kill me doctor Crane, please! I'll do anything!" Your pleas were met with a very bored looking 'doctor Crane', seemingly sick of the generic lines he'd heard one too many times, but they were definitely different coming from a youthful, attractive girl such as yourself and caused a certain tightness in his pants.

Your frantic pleas were interrupted by a hum of his smooth voice, "anything? You'd do anything?" he repeated in a strangely slow tone, though it was unsettling you rushed to nod in response, not letting the chance of surviving letting slip.

He scoffed lightly, glancing downward in thought before taking leisurely steps behind the pole you were tied to, undoing the messily done knots to release your sore wrists, "let's test that theory then.."

Of course you tried to make a run for it but a hand in your hair and arm over your neck were quick to pull you back, so quick in fact that you were sure he anticipated your attempted escape which made you feel dumb for even trying.

"You didn't think it'd be that easy right sweetheart?" he muttered in your ear, his voice had a eery edge to it now that made goosebumps rise all over your skin.

"You're choking me..." Your now raspy voice spoke as your eyes started to well up from the burn in your scalp, your hands reached up to try and pry his arm off your neck though he was much stronger than you so your efforts were to no avail

"oh am I?" He spoke in mock pity, tightening his arm around your neck making you yelp as you started to panic even more, "could've just played nice but you just had to go and be a smartass huh"

"I'm sorry.. Please stop I'm sorry" you whimpered out as tears dripped down your cheeks, landing on the sleeve of his coat that probably cost an unreasonable amount of money.

Your ears perked up as the sound of sniffing reached them, his hands left you hair and neck before turning you around to face him while you took in quick breaths to fill your parched lungs, "smell so sweet.."

He muttered more to himself than you while playing with a strand of your hair, blue eyes looking over your flushed, wet and sniffling face, "how old re'you sweetheart?" His oddly soothing voice questioned as he cupped your cheek with one hand, wiping a stray tear with his thumb.

"I'm- uhm, nineteen.." He sucked in a sharp breath at that, his pale cheeks flushing lightly, "then you know what I want don't you? What you'll have to do in order for me to free you.." He questioned lowly,

You had a vague idea of what he wanted, but hoped if you pretended not to know you'd be able to escape faster, "what do I have to do doctor Crane?" You questioned back with a tilt of your head.

"Don't play dumb sweetheart" he retorted with a scoff, finding amusement in your antics.

"I want you" you let out a little squeak of surprise feeling the force of his hands on your shoulders, pushing till you were sitting on your knees.

"To be on your knees and suck me off, is that clear enough for you?" He questioned with a mocking tilt of his head, squishing your cheeks between one hand as he did so, "y-yeah.." You responded quietly with a little nod.

Your shaky hands reached for his zipper, glancing up at him before pulling it down and unbuttoning his pants to reveal his covered bulge, you were about to pull his boxers down but paused, letting your fingers rest on the cotton hem.

"I've never.. done this before doctor Crane" you voiced your nerves quietly, chewing on your bottom lip as your cheeks flushed from embarrassment, his face softened slightly at your confession.

"I know.. I'll help you" he responded in a soothing tone, running a hand through your hair, he reached his other to pull down his black boxers to reveal his hard dick.

He took pleasure in the way you started at it in awe, "go on, touch it" he told you quietly, you tentatively brought your had and wrapped it around his base, looking up at him with wide eyes as he wrapped his hand around yours and guided it to stroke him.

"now wrap your lips around it and suck" he ordered impatiently, removing his hand from yours as you got the hang of it, you did as he asked and took his tip in your mouth, letting your tongue lick the beads of pre-cum off his slit, a groan escaping him that urged you on, getting bolder as you took him half way and hallowed your cheeks.

His hand tightened in your hair as he started thrusting in your mouth in sync with the way he was making your head go up and down on his dick, "there you go.." He muttered out, basking in the little whimpers escaping you as he went deeper and deeper.

As he started breaching your throat barrier your squirming grew and his pleasure increased at the tightness of your throat, he let you go for a moment to take a breath before pushing you all the way down till your nose was buried in his pubic hair, triggering your gag reflex as you tried to push yourself off, "calm down and take it, you've gotta work for your reward darling"

He muttered out as your eyes started watering, your whimpers and muffled mewls sending waves of pleasure straight to his brain and making his eyes roll back into his head, his hand tightening in your hair as he started rutting into your mouth, letting his body be controlled by the pleasure while panic induced you from the lack of air.

You felt his cock twitching in your mouth before he pulled out and let you fall back on your elbows, he aimed himself to come all over your face and exposed cleavage, most of it going in your mouth as you tried to breathe.

He tucked himself back in as you tried to collect yourself, he grabbed your face and collected most of his come on his finger and shoved it in your mouth, "swallow" he instructed simply and you did as he asked, cringing at the taste.

He removed his finger with a pop and straightened himself up, brushing a hand through his hair before looking down at you, "you should run into me more often sweetheart"

[enviedear]

i've been going solo now ⟶ ben solo

description ⌙ when you get a distress signal from your dad and his life-long goon you're quick to try and come to their rescue. only problem? so is ben solo.

pairing ⌙ smuggler!ben solo x f!reader

warnings ⌙ childhood crush/frenemies turned adults with horrible communication skills, reader is the daughter of lando (biologically or not you decide), ben is a jerk, reader is a brat, petty arguments, forced proximity trope, inner conflict all the time, han and lando are just two pals getting into serious issues that their kids have to fix don't mind them (they're just mentioned), most likely incorrect knowledge of the falcon & starship parts, smuggler!ben solo au because that's canon to me, ben calls reader kid (affectionate, kinda), typos probabaly

word count ⌙ 4.1k

— request | masterlist

i just think ben solo is very much solo by future coded and i wanted to write about smuggler!ben and his smug attitude. special thanks to @crucifiedfaerie for letting me gush over this idea constantly in our dms <3

you never had the stomach for killing— the thought of it or the act itself. the notion of ending someone's life has always been abhorrent to you, leaving a sour sensation in your mouth that lingers long after the deed is done. but right now, you sit, filled with a growing and seemingly unstoppable rage that practically demands blood.

"don't even think about jumping into hyperspace, solo!" your voice is loud but erratic.

the black-haired man piloting the ship gives you a side eye, "and waste hours getting there? sure thing, kid."

you grip the co-pilot seat as hard as possible as he sends the absolutely geriatric ship into lightspeed. the force of it sends your head back onto the headrest, and you screw your eyes shut until the motion of the ship stills.

you've been flying with ben solo on the millennium falcon for a day and a half now, and this isn't even the first time you've wanted to kill him.

no, you'd harbored a hatred for ben solo for as long as you could remember. when you were little your father frequently left you in the care of the organa-solo's. any trip too risky for you to follow him on had you spending time on chandrila han and leia— and ben.

he was a few years older than you and so insufferable - spoiled rotten and full of mischief. the two of you would inevitably end up in scuffles over something, whether it be who got to shower first or which holovid show to watch. you often wondered how your father, han, or leia had managed to handle both of you. a hardheaded pair of troublemakers that needed little excuse to start bickering with one another.

but beneath it all, there had been another layer to your complex relationship with ben solo. even though you feigned anger whenever near him, deep down there had been an admiration growing since those early days spent together. your naive heart fluttered when he would absentmindedly flash his ever-present smirk in your direction. but you'd never admit or act upon any such feelings.

naviagting your crush had been difficult at first. especially having lando calrissian as a parent. you were forced to spend weeks around the source of your teen angst because of your father.

what use is a dad that can sweet-talk a jablogian if he can't fix your unwanted crush on his best friend's son.

you've cursed at his image in your mind every time you look at your ridiculous companion. if not for him, you wouldn't be with ben right now— you'd have never had the displeasure of his company.

you got away from the young solo, and most everyone else, for a good five years, hopping from planet to planet, picking up any honest work. which usually meant boring work— factory jobs, service stuff, a few instances of babysitting.

your life without ben solo is predictable and a little boring.

but you'd rather be bored than deal with the recklessness that becomes your life every time you see the smuggler.

but here you sit beside him, forced to spend an unknown amount of days with him until the both of you find your idiotic fathers.

you had gotten a rouge comm-link message from your dad just days ago. he sounded fine, voice still leisurely and warm, but it was his words that were worrisome, "han's got us in a bit of trouble, little star. would you mind coming to help your old man out? we're somewhere in the trilon sector— i'd try batuu first!"

when you got the message, your mind had gone into autopilot. you had rushed to comm leia, which had been a fatal mistake, as she had ordered her son to pick you up and accompany you. so now you're here, stuck with ben solo and his frightening flying.

"you know, dad should have warned me i'd be flying with a coward." ben's lips are curved into a grin, as usual with his teasing.

you whip your head in his direction, eyes ablaze, "well my father should have warned me that you've gotten even more annoying, somehow."

ben narrows his eyes, a stupid smirk still plastered to his face, "whatever you say, kid."

you feel your blood go hot, why he decided to start calling you kid, you didn't know, but you do know you hate it.

ben's barely your senior, only twenty-three years of age in comparison to your twenty. besides he behaves like an out-of-hand teen away.

"stop calling me that." you groan.

ben chuckles, "aw, what's the matter, kid? tired of following orders already?"

you grit your teeth, the way he talks down to you will forever get under your skin, "i don't take orders from you, solo."

"sure you do. you're on my ship, remember?" ben retorts, his eyes focused on the coordinates displayed to his left.

you cross your arms over your chest, "we're supposed to be working together to find han and my father and get them out of trouble, not bickering like children."

ben rolls his eyes, "it's not my fault you're so uptight."

you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. you can't afford to lose your temper and start a fight, not when you're relying on him to get you to your destination safely. so, you force a smile, "look, can we just be civil? we're both here because we care about our dads and want to help them."

ben's expression softens a little, "fine. but if you start nagging at me again, i can't promise i won't call you kid."

you roll your eyes, "deal. now, can you tell me more about what's going on? my dad was pretty vague in his message."

ben hums, "same with mine. all i know is that lando got mixed up in some kind of shady deal, and now he's in trouble with a gang of criminals called the ninth sun. my mom's been trying to negotiate with them, but they're not ones to bend the knee."

you groan, "of course not. what's the plan?"

he shakes a stray black strand of hair from his eye, "no plan, just find them and go from there."

"lovely, that's totally going to work," you bite your lip, "oh and, it was han who made the sketch deal, not my dad."

ben shrugs, "and who told you that?" he rests his elbow on the armrest and brings his hand to his chin, "lando?"

you clench your fists, "let's just focus on finding them. no need to dwell on the semantics."

ben glances at you and for a moment, you swear there's a flicker of something in his eyes. something other than his usual teasing, mischievous demeanor, but it's gone as quickly as it came and he turns back to the console.

the ship hums steadily beneath you, and the silence between you two stretches on, broken only by the occasional beep from the controls. you fidget in your seat, uncomfortable with the unfamiliar hush. you've never been around ben so long without saying anything, and you're about to speak up before he interrupts you.

"we'll have to make a pit stop, i need to refuel." his voice sounds tired.

you nod, "alright. any nearby planets we can stop at?"

ben checks the navicomputer, "yeah, there's one a couple of light years away. i've been there before, it's not too bad."

"okay solo, lead the way." you say, leaning back in your seat.

as he pilots the ship toward the destination, you can't help but study him from the corner of your eye. he's changed since the last time you saw him. the boy who used to pull your hair and steal your toys has grown into a man. he's lean and toned with longer hair, still as sable black as ever. it falls into his eyes, despite how much he wills it not to, giving him a slightly disheveled look that you can't help but find attractive.

you rue the thoughts plaguing your own mind.

the embarrassment you used to feel over your crush has come back ten-fold. the feeling shocks you. he's trying to act all suave and mature, but you know deep down that he's still the same old ben who annoyed the life out of you. you can feel the familiar tug in your heart every time he speaks, and you know he can't have changed much over the years. not when he's making you feel just like you're fourteen again.

but there is something different about him now. maybe it's the way he pilots the ship with ease– no longer the boy who'd cover his ears ar take off, or maybe it's just the way his muscles flex under his tight-fitting shirt. he's almost mesmerizing.

it's clear that he's been doing this for a long time, navigating the stars all alone with nothing but his shitty attitude and perfect hair. you find yourself marveling over him, sure and smooth, his hands deftly moving over the controls.

ever the realist, you try to shake off the feeling, but it's proving difficult. you feel a strange urge to preserve your current addiction.

as you watch him fly, you feel a fixation building within you. it's a sentiment you haven't felt in years, not felt since the last time you saw him.

you try to push the feeling down, knowing that it's not the time to have those kinds of thoughts. you're supposed to be focused on finding your fathers and not getting killed by some lethal syndicate, not lusting after your childhood nemesis.

you feel wrong stealing glances at him, trying to understand what's changed and why you're feeling this way. you're towing a dangerous, line. especially if those feelings are inspired by ben organa-solo.

finally, after what feels like hours, you arrive at the refueling station. as soon as ben lands the ship, you stretch your legs inside the falcon, looking out at the new scenery. the planet is bathed in the evening light, and the scene around you is wide awake. the station itself is a bustling hub of activity, with all kinds of alien species milling about.

ben leads the way to the fueling station, where he begins filling up the ship's tanks. you stand by the ship's entrance, people-watching. your eyes find ben's figure again, and you let them stall. when he looks your way, you advert your gaze and step out of the falcon, swiftly approaching him.

the evening air is cool as it hits your skin. this planet is a strange one, with vibrant purple plants and thick, white fog swirling around. but you don't pay too much attention to it, your eyes are locked on ben.

he's leaning against the ship, checking over the fuel meter with a frown on his face. you walk over to him and clear your throat, expecting to get his attention.

he looks up at you, eyes meeting your own. you feel your heart skip a beat, and you curse yourself for being soft for him.

"you know, you didn't have to follow me out here." he mumbles, hand coming to brush the hair from his eyes.

you hum, "i didn't have anything better to do."

he ignores you and looks back at the fuel gauge, his eyebrows furrow, "i found something for you to do." his voice is monotone, but you're all too familiar with the subtle cut of annoyance within.

"what does that mean?" you own voice comes out a bit too anxious.

ben groans before looking at you, "one of the damn tanks has a leak— i told chewie to fix that weeks ago." he follows up his words with a few curses before kicking the faulty gas tank.

you roll your eyes, "can't we just get another one? i'm sure if we go inside someone would know where we could get another one."

"the problem isn't finding one," he tsks at you, "the problem is that this tank has been leaking fuel into the beacon finder. without that, we're never finding our dear old dads."

your heart sinks. you had been so sure that you would find your dad quickly, but now it looks like that might not be the case. "so, what do you suggest we do?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

"i'll have to fix the beacon," he sighs, "luckily i have the tools for it, but i need to find one more part, and with the sun setting soon…" he trails off, letting his silence complete the sentence for him.

you take in a deep breath at his implication. you can tell what he is suggesting without explicitly stating it.

you will be stuck on this planet with him tonight and forced to share the same cramped room. you thank god for separate cots, at least.

you try to ignore the warmth creeping up your ears, but you know that it's a losing battle. you haven't shared a room with ben solo since you were kids, endless unwilling sleepovers at each other's houses. but those instances were filled with innocent pranks and arguments, not the tension and longing glances you've found yourself giving him.

"alright," you say, trying to keep your voice even, "we'll just get the part and fix the beacon. the faster we fix this, the faster we can find our fathers and get back to our lives." you move towards the entrance of the fueling station, wanting to put space between you and ben.

"you mean so you can get back to your life." he calls out to you, and you look back at him only to be met with contempt in his brown eyes, "the one where you avoid me."

you give him a sharp eye roll before making your way toward a small gaggle of vendors, much more interested in finding this part. ben follows closely behind you, and you can feel the weight of his stare on the back of your head.

you're at a loss as to why ben solo would ever care that you've been avoiding him for the last five years. the ben you remember would've never batted an eye. when did that change?

you find a vendor selling the part that ben needs, and you both split the payment before heading back to the falcon. ben sets to work on the beacon, and you sit nearby, supposedly looking over the coordinates but mostly watching him work.

there's an abnormal sense of calm that fills you as you watch him. concentration is etched on his face, lips bitten bright red. you can't help but admire him, not for the sake of not trying.

you're brought back to reality when he starts cursing under his breath, "what's wrong?" you ask, moving closer to him.

"this damn thing won't budge," he grunts, trying to pry apart two pieces of the beacon.

you move to his side, peering down at the device. his breath is hot on your cheek, and you feel an urge to shiver. trying to focus on the task at hand you take a few breaths.

your eyes keep drifting to his lips, the way they move when he curses. you shake your head, trying to clear the inappropriate thoughts from your mind. "let me help," you offer, reaching for one of the tools he's using.

he hands it to you, and you lean in closer, your sides pressed together as you work the tool. you can feel his heat exuding into you, a warmth that isn't just from the planet's humid air. you try to focus, but it's becoming increasingly difficult. every time he moves, you catch a whiff of his scent, musky and rich, and your mind starts to wander to places it shouldn't.

finally, after what feels like an eternity, the piece pops free, and ben lets out a sigh of relief. he turns to you, a small smile on his face, and you can't help but smile back. his eyes lock onto yours, and suddenly, the air between you is charged with something foreign.

you let your tone come out sardonic, "looks like i saved the day. you're welcome, solo."

ben tilts his head, eyes narrowing, "you're a brat, kid."

"i thought i told you to stop calling me that." you want to hit him.

"i said i had a condition," he pauses, arms coming to either side of you, palms pressing into the falcon's floor, effectively trapping you against him, "a condition you just broke. so you're back to kid, kid."

you feel your resolve slipping, "you're the worst. you always have been, and i can see now that will never change."

he has the audacity to let out an amused breath, "if you're going to say shit like that, at least mean it."

your brows furrow, "pardon me? as if i don't mean that."

his hands creep from the ground and to your hips, you gasp as he pulls you in closer. if he were anyone else, you'd expect him to kiss you next, but he's not anyone else. so instead, he cranes down and whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "i know you want me," he growls, his fingers digging into your clothed flesh. "don't act like you don't,"

you're completely caught off guard, and before you can respond, he's pulling away from you and grabbing the beacon. you watch in silent horror as he makes for the falcon's exit, leaving you confused on the floor.

you sit there, rooted to the spot, your mind and body in turmoil. you know if you follow him you'd just be throwing yourself into a petty or embarrassing altercation.

what did he mean by that anyway? how could he possibly know?

taking a steadying breath, you turn away from your seat and make for the other side of the ship. you need to keep yourself busy until nighttime, and you know that there's some maintenance to do on one of the storage bays. when you get there, however, it's already been taken care of. your fists clench in frustration as you realize ben must have done it earlier.

you start searching around the ship for any other tasks that might help keep your mind off things and pass the time more quickly- checking cords, tidying up shelves or going through supplies lists so nothing gets low.

the hours seem to stretch on endlessly despite how much work you manage to do, and all too soon darkness begins to fill the sky outside of the cockpit windows. with a heavy sigh, you head back towards where you and ben had been working earlier. he's back now, tinkering away with the beacon as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you earlier— as if his words hadn't sent a tremble down your spine and confused the emotions tumbling through your mind.

you catch an expectant glance from him when he finally notices your presence. you're sure he's expecting you to say something to him. maybe he wants you to yell.

you don't say anything though, instead offering only a terse nod before checking the endless cords around you.

your fingers move quickly and expertly over the tangled cords, your mind too preoccupied to focus on anything else. but you can feel his gaze on you, burning through the back of your skull like a branding iron. his presence is suffocating and you know that if you don't get a handle on your emotions soon, you'll combust.

eventually, you're so lost in thought that you almost miss the soft footfalls approaching you. you turn to see ben standing beside you, his eyes locked onto yours. the air between you is thick with strain, unspoken words, and feelings. there are so many things you want to say to him, but you don't know where to begin.

"so," his voice breaks through the silence like a blaster shot. "when are we going to talk about it?"

you hear the depth in his baritone voice and it's all you can do to keep your face neutral, your thoughts collected, "talk about what?" you ask, even though you know perfectly well what he's referring to.

"about me and you," he says, voice low but insistent, "or we can just keep ignoring it. the tension seems to be getting us pretty far."

your expression shifts as you take in his words, the longing that had been coiled in so tightly before now coming to the surface. you can feel yourself flustering under the intensity of his watch but you refuse to look away, instead lifting your chin higher and narrowing your eyes.

"there is no us, solo," you say firmly, though your voice is riddled with a hint of something else entirely, "there never has been, and never will be."

ben seems unfazed by your words, his eyes steady and intense. "you say that," he says, his voice softening. "but i know you better than anyone else. and i know there's some part of you that actually likes me. i bet it pisses you off, doesn't it?"

he's right— it does piss you off that your heart can't seem to let him go. no matter how annoying you find him, he's beautiful and confident. and he does know you better than anyone. he knows what buttons to press and how hard. with ben, there's always the thrill of how perceptive he is— that he can see through the walls of anger and indifference you try so hard to build up around yourself.

you can feel your will crumbling under his words, your heart throbbing in your chest, but still, you push back, "even if there is something there, solo," you say, your voice shaking slightly, "it doesn't change anything. we're two different people living two very different lives."

ben smirks, "you don't know anything about my life."

you let your eyes roll, "as if the life you lead is some kind of mystery," you take a deep breath, "i mean, what's to know? you fly alone, smuggle, and rack up credits. that's your life, solo."

he hums, right hand finding a home beside your head on the wall, "you know me so well, kid. you should write a book."

you feel inexplicably hot, "maybe i will. a long book of all the reasons you piss me off."

he doesn't respond, just looks down at you for an uncomfortable amount of time. he pushes himself from the wall and you, twisting and letting his back hit the durasteel wall. his face is turned to you, eyes downcast.

"you know," he says finally, breaking the silence, "i remember when we were kids, it was always you who used to be the one to instigate. you probably don't remember it that way, but i do, and i loved it. you never hesitated. you were fearless."

you look at him incredulously, wondering what this has to do with anything. but he continues, "you were the only girl that would play with me, and not just that, the only one that could beat me. but then one day you just stopped. you ignored me completely."

you stiffen, unwilling to admit even through body language that he might be right. a pre-teen you found avoiding your ben sized crush the most viable option. you just never thought he'd care.

he continues, eyes unwavering from yours, "you used to look at me like i was the only person that mattered. and then, you just stopped. it's was like… like you had something to hide."

it's like he can read your mind because he reaches out and grasps your wrist in his hand. his touch is nice against your skin, sending a comfortable feel through your veins.

"i miss you, the girl who wasn't afraid of liking me," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "and i want you to admit that you miss me too."

you struggle to find words, to make sense of everything inside of you, but before you can speak, his lips are on yours. his kiss is hot and demanding, and instinctively lean into him, body melting against his in perfect harmony. his hands slide around your waist and hold you close as the kiss deepens, and you can feel all of the frustrations of the past slipping away. when he finally pulls back, his eyes are bright with emotion and a hint of a smile graces his lips.

he looks down at you for a moment before speaking in a low voice, "you want me to do that again?" he steps closer to you and cups your face in his hands, his eyes twinkling with amusement. you can feel the warmth radiating from his body and if it weren't for his strong arms around you, you would have melted into a puddle.

you nod slowly in agreement, too lost in the moment to say anything else. he leans down and brushes his lips against your cheek before pulling away completely, "then be honest. right here, right now. you like me."

you screw your eyes shut, basking in the shame of being found out, "i like you, solo. i like you a lot, but if you don't get off your pedestal and kiss me again i'll withdraw the opportunity."

he gazes down at you with an expression that's tender yet mischievous all at once. "i like you too," he whispers before chuckling lightly, you open your eyes to see.

his dimples are on full display, and for a second, he's the spirit of the little brat you fell in love with all those years ago. "c'mere, kid." his voice is soft as he pulls you back into him, lips meeting yours.

[moonacrefarm]

anticipating love

summary: sometimes the only way up is backwards.

contains: childhood friends to lovers to strangers, second-chance romance, angst, hurt/comfort, slight miscommunication, fluff, 18+ series, mentions of stalking, mentions of cancer, no mention of y/n

authors note: i think i rewrote this like four times. editing this one was so difficult bc i was never satisfied, i'm not used to writing dialogue and all of it felt unnatural </3. for this chapter, i was listening to home by danny knutelsky... i'm not sure if you can tell that was the vibe i was writing with... enjoy!

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05. a secret place to hide

"You can live your life, you know?" Your mother's hand caressed your hair as you laid in her lap. Since the last time Bradley visited you’d avoided him, holing up in your room or Hard Deck during it’s off-hours. You found yourself taking advantage of the sights San Diego had to offer if it meant avoiding him. Your run-in with Bradley had seemingly shaken you up more than you thought. 

You pushed yourself up, leaning on her shoulder as you watched a movie. 

"I am living my life, though?" You riposte. 

She gave you a look and sighed, surrendering to you, “Look, Penny called. She needs help working tonight. Would you please give her a hand?” 

You narrowed your eyes at your mother. You knew her like the back of your hand and you could sniff a scheme out. “Did you hear the conversation I had with Bradley the other night?” 

She held her breath for a second in deep thought. 

Before she sighed, “Yeah I did.” 

You groaned, throwing your head back on the couch. You’d been found out. 

“Only a little bit! I didn’t hear a lot, just you scolding him.” 

“Does Penny actually need help at the bar or is this just another scheme?” You raised a brow at her. 

“She actually did call for help. Her server called out sick last minute and tonight a ship is docking.” 

You stared. “Why does this feel familiar?”

“You know we can’t schedule when the fleet comes in.”

“There’s a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence.” 

Your mother and Penny had always been team Bradley Bradshaw; they even placed bets on when you'd be married. The worst part? They weren't wrong. You'd done everything but date, including sharing every first with each other. 

“Neither of us can guarantee Bradley won’t be there tonight. So you might have to break the cold war you have going on.” 

“Might?” 

“You weren’t hiding it, you were avoiding him. I’ve never seen you drive yourself around this much.” She laughed at you, slightly coughing at the end. 

She turned to face you, "You should talk to him..." She said softly, leaning her tired body on the couch as you faced each other. 

"I don't want to. Not with…" You looked away from her, "Not with everything going on." She sighed before smacking you on the arm. You yelped as you tried to soothe the pain away. Glaring at her as she smiled. 

"Do I look like I'm dead yet? You might as well lay me in the coffin with your attitude. I can still smack some sense into you." She guffawed, you joining her laughing fit soon after. 

“I’m not saying to talk to him tonight. With the boat docking his detachment might not even be there, but your aunt has managed to run a very successful bar. You’re in his territory, there’s always a risk.”

“Oh risk my ass, North Island isn’t that small Mom.” You huffed, you both laughing. 

You thought about it for a second. It seemed like a very loose scheme, one where they’re placing bets on Bradley being there tonight. Your mother wouldn’t throw you into anything that made you genuinely uncomfortable, but she is more than willing to give you a push. 

“Just one ship docking?”

“God I hope. Anyone who isn’t married is gonna be bar hopping once they get their land legs back.” 

“I’ll go help her. I’ll call her on my way down there.” 

She nodded looking at the TV and sinking in the couch. The chemo had taken its toll this time, her breathing a little faster, her body a little smaller, but she was fighting. “Are you sure you won't need me tonight?” 

She looked back up at you, “Your father will be home in a couple of hours, by the time you leave I’ll be in the kitchen scolding him into how to make proper lasagna.” You smiled at her. “He must be so excited.”

“He doesn’t even know yet.” 

The sun hung slightly above you, finally coming down into the view but not quite evening yet. Penny had stopped by to pick you up suggesting that you could spend the night at her place anyway. 

You took a deep breath and sat in the passenger seat before you could talk yourself out of this. 

“I’ll man the bars, you dish out the drinks?” Penny’s voice pulled your attention, her hands around the steering wheel. 

“I’m much better at customer service anyway.” You told her with a grin. She reached over and pinched you lightly on your side. 

“I do appreciate the help. I don’t know what it is but this must be the third time I’ve asked you to help on boat night,” 

“Fourth Pen.” You interjected, she continued anyway. 

“Details details…,” She waved her hand at you, “You're the best waitress I’ve had.”  You chuckled to yourself and leaned your head on the window. 

She was quiet for a few moments before asking you, “So, your mom and Simpson worked things out again?” 

She was prodding lightly. She was always weary of navy men and had never fully trusted your father. 

Your parents had never fallen out of love, but when they separated your father was busy climbing ranks. The constant time apart and they didn’t know how to live with each other anymore. Besides the issue of neglecting his family, your father wasn’t very affectionate and no matter how hard your mother fought, he was stubborn and a straight shot. He was blinded until he got what he set out for. 

What made him a great pilot made him a horrible husband and father. 

You shrugged at Penny, “I’m not sure. I think mom’s cancer plays a part in how normal they’re being. I can’t say though. You probably know more than me.” 

“Hmmm. But you live with them, you see more.” 

“I do, but…you know Dad’s never been the one to have a range of emotions.” 

Penny let out an airy laugh. “You’re right about that hon. That man is a piece of concrete if I’ve ever seen one. A true military man.” 

She sighed, pulling in front of the bar. You both crawled out, the Hard Deck loomed over you two. The building seemed twice its size and you’d need the room for tonight. 

“Alright, one boat docked, and maybe the usual crowd. Did your mom warn you about tonight?”

You nodded. “She warned me about the boat and about Bradley.” 

Penny smiled brightly. “Perfect. I can prepare you for mermen, but I can’t prepare you for a Bradshaw.” 

You shooed her away as the first bar patrons came in. Settling in a booth and flagging you over. 

You looked at Penny, and she looked at you. Both nodded at each other as the sun sunk lower into the skyline. 

One thing about the Hard Deck, it was only open after 5:30 pm. Not a minute sooner and not a minute later. The first thirty or so minutes were quiet. 

Until a group of shored fish popped in. Once you saw the first group you knew more were sure to follow. The sun had set and you had been running around the bar all night. As the shift went on, you realized you hadn’t seen Bradley’s detachment. 

There was a solid chance they wouldn’t be here tonight with how crowded it was and their training. 

“Penny, two whiskey sours and a craft beer please.” 

“Coming right up darling.” 

You leaned on the bar a bit, standing between two empty stools and letting your body sag. You hadn’t played waitress like this since your last restaurant job. You caught your breath for a second before Penny plopped three drinks in front of you. 

“Do you need your break?” 

You shook your head no. The buzz from keeping busy kept your mind so preoccupied you didn’t have time to think about anything else. 

“I’ll let you know when Penn.”

She nodded at you and served a couple more beers to the guys waiting. 

Dancing through the crowd kept you on your toes. Time had passed that threshold where most people weren’t worried about decorum or balance. No matter how alert you were, someone always caught you off guard. 

A bar-goer stepped back into your space, catching your shoe and you braced yourself as you tried to regain your balance. A couple more stumbles pulled your weight to the side, your gravity off balance and the tray going with the momentum. 

Until two arms engulfed your frame. 

Gently, they pulled you upright, one hand jutting out to grab the tray out of your hands. As you righted yourself, you noted said hand lingering lightly on your waist, “You alright?” Bradley leaned down to ask you. 

Him and his darn height.

“I’m good Bradshaw.” You fixed your shirt and readjusted your apron. One deep breath in and you went to grab the tray of drinks. They had only slightly spilled. Hopefully, they’d be too drunk to notice. You’d give them a 10% off when you closed their tabs out. 

“You sure?” He asked, turning the tray away from you. 

You huffed at him. “Yes, I am sure. I promise.” 

His eyebrows rose and gently he set the tray back into your hands. “Careful bugs.” You nodded once more before carrying on for the night. 

You could feel his eyes on you the rest of your shift, didn’t matter where you went in the bar or where you went into the crowd. Bradley’s eyes found you with ease. 

“You talk to Bradshaw tonight?” Penny asked, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Somehow, this all feels a little familiar…” You gave her a small side-eye. 

“Aye, I’m not letting you off the hook this time. I’m paying you to work the whole shift.” 

“Okay okay… I’m not gonna run away just because he looked at me.” 

“I know you won’t, you would’ve ran as soon as he walked in here.” The side of her mouth twitched. “You also don’t have your car.” 

Reminded of your shameful past, you took your restocked tray and carried on for the night. 

Bradley nursed his drink until his group was ready to leave, pulling away from them and promising he’d see them tomorrow. He set his eyes on you. Your chest slightly rising and falling from exhaustion, your bangs framing your face, and a couple of other strands out of place.

You could feel his warmth and he pulled up on your side. 

The bar had quieted significantly, the majority of the group's bar hopping elsewhere or down at the beach. 

He sat on the stool and watched you silently. You didn’t make a move to speak to him, trying to close the register and get the last of the tabs shut out. His watching you didn’t make you uncomfortable. Did you want to face him after the heart-to-heart?

Yes, but also… absolutely not. The feelings that were crawling themselves out of their graves were overwhelming and you didn’t want them pouring out again. 

“You finish up that last tab, I can check out the rest,” Penny said from behind you. 

“Are you sure? I’m already doing it.” 

“I’m sure.” She nodded at Bradley, “I might be a little late closing, think you could give her a ride Bradshaw?” 

The scheming commenced. 

“It’d be my pleasure.” His grin lopsided. 

Him and his darn grin. 

“I’m staying at your place tonight? I even promised Amelia.” 

“I never said you were going home. Just might get there a little earlier than me.” She smiled slyly, testing the waters that were you and Bradshaw. “‘Sides, I wouldn’t come between a promise between you and Amelia. Strong-headed that one, I wouldn't dare.” 

You huffed, “Alright, this register is checked out,” You looked at Penny, “I'll do the final count.” 

Turning to Bradley, silence suspended between you both, Bradley smiling lightly while looking at you. 

"Got a starin' problem?" You jested. 

He smirked at you, "If I do?" Your eyes narrowed as he laughed. 

"Don't mind me taking in the view." He grinned, a slight flush on his ears, "You're dressed real purtty' tonight." He added with a mock southern accent. 

Your face ran hot again. The tips of your ears bloomed red as blood rushed to your face. Bradley looked at you again, reaching for your bags and throwing them on his shoulder. "How have you been?" He inquired, holding the door open for you as you walked. You weren't sure what to answer; how had you been? With everything going on, you hadn't had time to process it all. 

"Alright?" You trailed off. "As good as I can be." You said sardonically. He read your body language, deciding not to prod any further. "And you?" You questioned back. The awkwardness finally settled in. His shoulders tensed. "About the same." He stilled. You watched him fidget with his lip, something he did when he wasn't sure what to do. "About back then..." He started. This time, you didn't stop him. 

“I meant it when I said I’ll come to you. This time, let me do the heavy lifting.” “Bradley, what does that even mean?” 

“It means I’ve seen a future with you for years and always ran away out of fear. We’ve waited for ‘later’ to come for years, I’ve waited for years. When you’re ready, whenever that is, I’ll be here.” He paused for a breath, opening the car door for you and leaning on the frame of the car, “I was the one who left…I think it’s only fair that this time I come to you.” Your breath hitched as you regarded his hazel eyes, firm in resolve. It almost sent you stumbling. 

After a few beats of silence, he ushered you in the car. Climbing into the driver seat and starting the engine, pausing for another moment, “Do you know Penny’s address?” 

Your belly laugh ran out in the cabin of the car. Watching as his ears tinged pink. 

“Wasn’t the best ending to a confession of love was it?” 

“No…” You teetered off, “But it was very you.” 

He frowned, “I don’t think I’m starting off very strong here.”

“Maybe not, but you Bradley Bradshaw are the one I’ve chosen over and over again, you and all your fumbles,” You leaned over the center console of the Bronco, “I’ll tell you what Bradshaw, sweep me off my feet one more time and I’ll be yours forever.” You kissed his cheek tenderly. 

The back of his hand grazed your cheek and you leaned into it. “I know we have a lot to work out, but I don’t want to fight it anymore, you’re here…and that’s more than I ever had of you before.” He flinched. 

“They're gonna have to pull my teeth out if they try and ship me off anywhere where you aren’t.” You laughed again. 

“I’ll let you come to me this time.” You kissed his knuckles. “You were always best for me, Bradshaw.” 

Bradley leaned in and kissed your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds, “This time, I’ll make sure I’m the best I can be for you. I promise Bugs.” 

You two pulled apart for a couple seconds before you registered the sound of the engine, “Do I need to type in the address?” 

Bradley groaned.

[daceydeath]

Hiii 👋 I was wondering if you could write a Chan imagine where yn is the ninth member and her and Chan are secretly dating. Yn gets really sick and has to stay in bed and when Chan is filming a Channies room he hears he call for him weakly. Sorry if that doesn’t make any sense 😭

Hi! I'm sorry this took so long to write but actually it was much harder to write a 9th member imagine than I thought it would be. I do hope you like it though darling. Dacey xx

I didn't know you were filming (a 9th member imagine)

Pairing: Chan x reader Word Count: Genre: 9th Member, Fluff, Comedy (stupidity) Warnings: swearing

Being the only female member of Stray Kids wasn't difficult. Keeping your relationship with Chan secret from Stay however was much harder.

You had caught a cold on the way home from the last Japanese promotions at first you thought it was going to be a minor inconvenience but after a few days it turned out to be a full blown flu. Management had made an announcement that you would be missing the next week or so of promotions as you recovered but you were miserable and felt wretched so each of your members had been taking care of you much to Stay's delight and posting photos of you bundled up in blankets and pouting on Bubble. It was Saturday and all morning Hyunjin and Han had been fussing over you much to your annoyance.

"Chan! I'll be fine" you mumbled pouting as Minho and Felix sat on the other couch smirking.

"You say that but this flu has really knocked you around" he smoothed down your bed hair slightly while Han and Changbin flat out laughed at you.

"I know but I'll just sleep and drink water and stuff. I am fine I am not going to die from it" you continued whinging until you sneezed loudly and proved his point.

"Minho and Felix will stay with you" Chan raised his eyebrows waiting for you to argue "please take you medicine when they tell you to and also eat when they tell you to". You pouted again as Chan chuckled and patted your head.

"See you later then" you sulked groaning and you got up and shuffled to your room.

"See you tonight" Chan chuckled as he left with the others.

Being member of the same group you tried to keep as much of your relationship out of the other members faces so cute nicknames, cuddle sessions and kisses were off the table unless you were alone. It meant you were both much less likely to accidently do something that could cause a scandal, plus everyone loved to tease and joke about each ship that Stay came up with regarding you.

"Oi noona you have to take your medicine" Felix called after you following you with a glass of water.

"Yes Felix" you grumbled pouting as you took the glass from him and took your tablets.

"I'm going to order you some soup and stuff why don't you just rest?" Minho added as you flopped back onto your bed, if you hadn't be so sick you would have curled up in Chan's bed his scent always made you feel better but the best you could manage was the hoodie he had given you earlier in the morning. You drifted off into a miserable sleep hoping that when you woke up you would feel better.

"Wakey wakey" Minho whispered softly shaking your blanket cocoon as you blinked slowly groggy from the sickness and the medicine. "You need to eat something it will make you recover faster".

"Alright" you snuffled slowly sitting up before Minho helped you to stand.

"After you eat something you need some more medicine" Felix smiled as you sank into the couch cushions, taking a bowl of soup from Minho's hands you sat and ate slowly the warm liquid helping to soothe your sore throat, the boys put on a movie and sat with you for a few hours making sure you kept hydrated and trying to lift your mood. But with the medicine making you drowsy again you couldn't help that you ended up falling asleep in Felix's lap as he played with your hair.

"Aw she looks so cute when she's sleeping" Han cooed making you blink and look around.

"Didn't I just say not to wake her?" Chan sighed looking between Han and you as you rubbed your eyes "How are you feeling?".

"Like I have been run over by a bus" you yawned sitting up from Felix's lap "Is there anymore soup?"

"Already heating in up for you" Minho called from the kitchen making you smile they had been taking care of you so well and you knew you were lucky, had you been left with Han and Hyunjin the dorm might have caught fire.

"Thank you" you croaked while Felix propped you up on some pillows and Chan got you a glass of water. They all continued to fuss over you while you ate making sure you were warm enough and comfortable.

"Changbin and I are going to the gym later you in Chan?" Han asked while he played around on his phone.

"Nah, I going to do to a live later so I'll make sure shes got her medicine and stuff too" Chan shrugged casually sitting on your left with his arm around your shoulders.

"Oooh looking at doing a bit of team building?" Han teased taking your empty bowl again.

"Fuck off she's sick one of us has to take care of her and since Minho and Felix were here all day it's time for someone else to have a turn tonight" Chan groaned at how stupid Han was being while Minho and Felix made kissing noises that made you laugh, and then cough a lot.

"Stop trying to kill me" you whined burrowing yourself into Chan's chest so that they couldn't see your face any longer.

"Alright I think you need another nap now" Chan sighed as your breathing returned to normal, you simply nodded knowing that arguing was pointless as Chan helped you to stand and you shuffled off without complaint to your room to get some more rest.

When you woke up again it was late, checking your phone you realized there was a glass of water and medicines sitting next on your bedside table with a note Chan had left you saying to take them as soon as you woke up and call for him if you needed anything. Smiling you took your medicine and sat up in your bed a little thinking that you should probably get up and get something warm to drink to help you fall back asleep. Picking up your phone you messaged Chan saying you had woken up and taken your medicine, he answered that he hoped you were feeling better and that if you needed anything he would get it for you. You felt your eyelids growing heavy again but after ten minutes you still couldn't fall asleep you could hear Chan talking but not who he was talking to, so you decided to call to him.

"Channie? Are you there baby?" you called your voice croaky, you head him pause but then he started talking again.

"Channie, I need cuddles to sleep" you called again whinging as you again heard him pause and your phone lit up with a message from Chan that only said the words on live. Frowning you sat for a few moments before you heard Changbin's voice from somewhere in the hallway.

"Chaaaannnnnie" he called in his most annoying high pitched voice before ducking into your room.

"Changbin what are you doing?" you chuckled as he sat on the end of your bed trying to hold in his laugh.

"He's doing an episode of Chan's Room all of Stay just heard you call him baby and ask for cuddles" he explained as he shook with laughter as your face paled further.

"Shit" you groaned flopping down on your mattress.

"Channie I love you" Han shouted from the opposite end of the hall.

"Channie marry me?" Changbin yelled louder this time as you opened the live up on your phone to see what was happening. Chan was sitting on his bed head in his hands, flushed pink and trying not to laugh as the comments of how chaotic you all were, whether this confirmed you were together or if this was a prank you were all playing on him.

You continued pouting even after Changbin left your room to go back to the lounge room where he and Han had been eating after their workout. You continued watching the live as Chan explained how you had all decided to tease him once again and that he was going to have to move to the other dorm for some peace and quiet eventually he signed off with his signature hug and finished the live, then you heard him shuffling around and you knew he was going to come and scold you. As he opened the door you gave him your best puppy eyes.

"I'm sorry baby, I didn't know you were doing a live" you kept the misery act up until he sighed deeply walking across your room and sliding in behind you.

"I better cuddle you to sleep then, since Stay thinks we are so cute together" he teased softly holding you tightly against his chest.

a/n: Thank you for reading you beautiful human! Any likes, reblogs and comments are loved and adored xx

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