#and he pulls his hair back with one hand and i just like. melted out of my chair | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-witty-pen-name · 2 days ago

Text

The Love Triangle From Hell (3)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Following PART TWO, Steve feels even more distant from his friends- especially you; Eddie reflects on memories he has of you two; Nancy and Jonathan work together for the paper; Robin does her best to navigate what being friends with you and Steve looks like; you seek comfort in one of the only ways you know how- calling Eddie

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; allusions to violence; miscommunication; jealousy; kissing; implications of smut; horniness

A/N: You guys are literally the absolute best. I am having the best time writing this- I'm so inspired by all of you. The love you have shown this fic so far has me overwhelmed. Thank you for your kind words, you have helped me work through some serious writer's block. Your comments and reblogs are keeping me going fr

This is unedited; please let me know what you think and if I missed anything I should include as a warning.

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

His hands are tangled in your hair and he’s pulling you in close for another searing kiss. He can’t catch his breath, but he’s just so desperate to stay close to you like this. Your lips are so soft against his and your mouth is so inviting as you yank him closer. You whimper against his lips and it makes him shiver. He feels weak in the knees as you feel so pliable to his touch. You melt into his embrace and sigh happily as his lips trail down your neck.

“Want you,” you moan softly, tugging his hair. He groans at the sensation. “Need you so bad.”

“‘M gonna take care of you,” he promises, bringing his lips back to yours.

“Love you,” you moan.

Before he finds out if he says it back, his alarm goes off and he’s brought back to his reality. He groans disappointedly, covering his ears with his pillow- desperate for a couple more minutes with dream you. There’s a bang at his door.

“Steve! Turn that shit off!” Eddie calls from the other side of the door. He’s yelling but his tone is playful. Steve hits his alarm off and drudges out of bed finally. Eddie has coffee made and Steve forgets anything is wrong at the moment.

“Did she say anything last night?” Steve asks groggily as he pours himself a cup.

“Um, not really,” Eddie replies, taking a moment to think about it. “I mean, yes but not about anything that we don’t know already. She’s conflicted, she doesn’t know what to think or feel. She just wants time.”

“Okay,” Steve replies, leaning up against the counter. He takes a sip of his coffee. He needs to get to work. He can talk about this with Robin when he gets there.

When you called Eddie, you didn’t expect Steve to answer. You thought maybe he’d say something- you wanted him too. But he didn’t. You couldn’t read him anymore.

Eddie was thrilled to hear your voice. He’d missed you, and he’d missed talking to you. He wanted that piece back as soon as he could get it. He reveled in the way his name sounded coming from you.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, “I didn’t mean to upset Steve- I heard the way he dropped the phone down…”

“It’s okay sweetheart,” he says compassionately. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He’s met with a sad feeling of silence.

“I’m happy you called,” he says gently. He hopes the sentiment makes you feel better.

“I’ve missed you,” you admit, and Eddie feels like his heart might swell out of his chest.

“It’s hard when the two people who you talk about everything with are the people you want to talk about,” you joke, and he laughs with you.

“You can talk shit about me,” he teases and he hears you groan. He bites his lip, holding back a smile.

“How are you doing?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Much better now,” he flirts.

“How are you doing, really?” You ask again, your voice sounding more fragile.

“I meant, honestly- not great. But not worse than anyone else is doing right now.”

“Yeah…”

“I miss you a lot too,” he admits. He runs a hand through his hair, and it reminds him of how amazing it felt the last time you played with his hair. He’s craving that touch so badly.

When you both were in high school, Eddie went out of his way to make sure you always had a seat at the table. He’d notice as you stood with your cafeteria tray, waiting for Steve to realize there was no open seat for you at his table. He’d wave obnoxiously to catch your eye and he’d smile at the way you’d get shy from the attention. He’d point at the empty seat next to him, and he’d grin as your eyes light up in realization you had a spot. You’d shuffle through the crowd and take your seat next to him. You’d take a seat and ruffle his hair in your hands.

Eddie was always a creature of habit. As much as he exudes chaos, he actually thrives in having a routine. Don’t get him wrong- it’s never been a good routine… but it’s routine nonetheless. In high school it was a lot of the same. Tuesdays, Corroded Coffin played at The Hideout. He would get home way too late and never get in bed until close to 3am. Wednesday mornings, he’d sleep through his alarm and stroll into first period consistently 10ish minutes late. Thursdays he prepped for Hellfire, and then of course, the piece the resistance was Friday. Hellfire. An epic campaign that would run several hours and ensure the most recent shit week had been worth it to make it to that moment.

He remembers that he was paralyzed when the group proposed to postpone Hellfire one time his first senior year. It snaps him out of his thoughts, as he was so wrapped up in you- and how close you were sitting. Eddie knew that hypothetically, it shouldn’t matter if the date changes. However, he couldn’t wrap his head around change. He hated it- still does. A disruption from his status quo throws off his entire week and it will take him too long to mentally recover. He knew that he came off as a hard ass, but he prefers it than trying to explain his mind to his friends. He had felt his jaw tighten as he tried to rationalize with himself that it can be okay to switch it up. He unclenched his fists once he realized that he was making his knuckles white unintentionally.

“Uh yeah, no problem. Saturday’s fine,” he was able to manage through gritted teeth. He relaxed when he could look past himself and see his friends smile, thanking him and happily chatting about the campaign. He smiled when he observed that his decision made everyone happy. That for him outweighed the internal struggle.

He didn’t really listen to the reason everyone wanted to reschedule, but he picked up on after the fact that everyone is talking about the Snow Ball. He couldn’t help but recoil back into himself as his friends talked about their plans to go- who they’re asking, what suit they’re getting, what songs would play, and whatever. He couldn’t have cared less. Unless…

His eyes wandered to sneak a glance at you. He wondered if you had plans- maybe you're hoping someone asks you. Maybe, he’s lucky and you were hoping that someone would be him. He wondered if you had a date. Maybe you already had been asked. It’s not like you had been aware of the way Eddie’s felt about you- unrequited feelings that tugged on his focus constantly since he’s known you. You caught his eye and offered him a shy smile and he could crumble.

Eddie immediately averted his gaze, and focused his attention back on his friends. He ignored the way his face suddenly became so warm and he ignored the butterflies that were swarming around in his stomach. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on these feelings- he knew that there’s no way you feel the same. Who could possibly like him?

He felt a pressure when the freshman looked at him, one of them having asked Eddie about his own plans. Eddie sees the way the kids look up to him, they idolize him. He knows they think he’s cool. He can’t let that go just yet, he loved it too much. He needed it. He wanted to have them hang on to this version of him for as long as they’d believe in it.

So, despite his usual distaste in school sanctioned functions, he did not want to allow the kids to think he couldn’t score a date. He could only blame society so much before they realized it’s actually his own fear of putting himself out there that cramped his dating life more than anything else. He then resolves that he needs a date to this dance. He tells himself that it’s for the freshman, to keep up the cool facade or whatever. But in actuality, he just wanted to ask you because he wants to ask you out. It’s his perfect window of opportunity.

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it, honestly,” you said, when one of the freshmen asked you if you had plans. “I’d been so busy with the play, I haven’t had a chance.” Eddie watched as you glanced over to Steve’s table. “Steve and I usually would go to this kinda thing,” you said quickly, and Eddie could see your apprehension despite your best attempt to hide it. “We’ll probably go as friends again.”

He said nothing.

A few days later, you called Eddie and he could immediately tell you’re upset. You’re doing your best to hold it together but he can tell you’re almost at your breaking point.

“Hey,” you say, your voice straining as you try not to cry. “I know this is totally not your thing, but I’m kind of in a bind.”

“What can I do?” He asked, sitting up straight on his bed. He was getting ready to locate his shoes or his keys- thinking you’re in trouble somewhere. He’ddrop anything to come get you.

“I know you’d probably rather do literally anything else, but um, I have two tickets to the Snow Ball and I already bought a dress…”

“I thought you’d be going with Steve?” He asked. You sniffled.

“Um, yeah I kind of just assumed he’d take me. I didn’t realize that he asked out Nancy Wheeler,” you choked back tears. “I mean it’s not like that,” you lied, maybe not to Eddie but more to yourself, “we’re just friends. But I still thought He and I would be going together like as friends again- you know? But, uh, yeah- he is taking like a real date.”

“I know you’d hate it, and I will make it up to you. But, I already bought the tickets and I can’t get my money back. It’s like not a date or anything, just like a friend thing…”

“I’d be happy to take you,” he replied, sincerely. He can tell you were expecting him to fight you on it. When would you catch on that he’s willing to do anything for you?

“Eddie, thank you so much,” you sniffled, still trying your best to keep it cool. “I owe you one,” your voice cracks and you hang up quickly before he gets a chance to say anything.

Eddie didn’t really understand back then why you were even friends with Steve to begin with. Eddie thought Steve, frankly, was a total douchebag. However, once he actually got to know Steve- it was a different story. He couldn’t resent Steve. He loved him like a brother now. And once Eddie got to know the Steve you’ve always known, your feelings for him made sense. But at the same time, Eddie held his tongue for all the things Steve did or didn’t do for so long. Steve was good guy at his core, Eddie understood. But his actions didn’t reflect that in Eddie’s eyes. But it wasn’t his place to tell you that. It didn’t seem right. You’d known Steve so much longer than him.

Nancy and Jonathan invited you and Robin to go with them to watch Lucas’ basketball game. You were excited to get out of your little apartment and support Lucas. Jonathan was photographing it for The Hawkins Post. Jonathan paced up and down the court side to get photos, and you sat up in the bleachers with Nancy and Robin. You were never one to go to school things really, but it was Lucas’s senior year and it was a big game- of course you were going to be there.

“It feels weird, Steve not being here,” Nancy whispers to you and you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, everything just feels weird right now,” you agree. “You and Jonathan are okay?”

“We’re good. We’re doing good, um, still working through stuff but we’re going to just work through it.”

“That’s good.”

“Robin?” Nancy asks, and Robin turns her head to pay attention. “How’s things with Vicky?”

Robin’s face turns tomato red. “Fine,” she mumbles, happily. “I’m gonna hang out with her tomorrow.” You elbow her teasingly, making her blush redden.

“How’s it feeling? Being the best at all of this out of us?” You tease.

“I don’t know,” she’s so embarrassed, it’s so sweet. “We both just like each other- it’s not that complicated. She’s so great.”

The three of you turn your attention back to the game at the sound of the whistle. You clapped and cheered the loudest whenever Lucas had the ball. He tried to plead with the lot of you to tone it down, casting weary looks in your direction. You couldn’t help yourselves. You felt so proud of him.

You decide to take a walk to the concession stands and get some snacks for everyone. You order four sodas and two large popcorns- one for Jonathan and Nancy and one for you and Robin. You fish the cash out of the front pocket of your jeans, and hand it to the kid working the window. You thank him, and balance it all in your hands to navigate carefully back to the stands.

You see a familiar face coming down the hallway, sprinting. For a moment, you can’t help the smile that forms across the expanse of your face until you remember what’s been going on. Your face falls, and you feel so stupid for being excited to see him when it hits you again all at once.

You don’t think Steve knew you’d all be here, because he looks just as surprised to see you. He stops and his sneakers squeak across the polished gym floor. He looks at you with an expression of pure panic. He totally didn’t think you’d be here. And you’re surprised he came alone- but of course he did, he’s Steve. Of course, he’s going to show up to every game for Lucas. You shouldn’t expect any less. It still takes you back.

“Can I help with those?” he asked, gesturing for you to pass some stuff to him. You nod, and tilt so he can take some of the things from your grasp.

“Where are you sitting?” He asks, and you nod your head towards Robin and Nancy. His face deflates. “Ah, okay.” He walks over with you, and he passes the items in his hand off to Robin. He moves aside so you can walk back into your spot.

“Thanks, Steve,” you offer him a soft smile, appreciating the effort despite the circumstances.

“Yeah of course,” he mutters, backing away, lingering for a moment because the seat that’s usually there for him between you and Robin isn’t there. He quickly pulls himself out of his thoughts and just heads over to the next row of bleachers, finding a seat next to a couple of his old basketball teammates that are here for their little brothers.

Steve can’t even focus on the game, he keeps trying to steal glances of you from his peripheral vision. He wants to know what Robin said that made you laugh like that, and he wished he could have heard your laugh- but you’re too far away from him. He watches as your jaw drops at something Nancy tells you, and he watches how you cheer so happily for Lucas. He wants to know if this is bothering you the way it’s bothering him. You look like you’re keeping it together and he wants to know if that could truly be the case.

Even when you’re carrying so much hurt, you give off such a radiance that Steve and he’s sure everyone else is just drawn into. Your pretty smile and your bright eyes are all he can think about- he only knows when to cheer when he feels the people around him move. He smiles when you stand up and pose, pointing to Lucas- then Lucas matches it, giving it back to you. He watches as you both share that moment of just pure joy, and his heart aches. He doesn’t know if he could ever make you that happy.

When the game was over, you looked to see if you could find Steve but there was no sign of him. You all invited Lucas to go out for celebratory pizza for his big win, but he wanted to go with his teammates. The plan fizzled pretty much after that. Robin wanted to get home so she could call Vicky and Jonathan and Nancy wanted to head home so Jonathan could start developing his photos. When you and Robin are walking out, you see a familiar van.

“I’ll bum a ride from Nancy,” Robin assures you, pushing you in Eddie’s direction. She waves to Eddie from a distance and then jogs to catch up with Nancy and Jonathan.

“What are you doing here?” you ask with a smile. He pushes himself off of the hood of his van and walks over to you, his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.

“I thought you might be here,” he quips. “Plus, I had to poke my head in- Sinclair is some big shot apparently?” he jokes, “I had to check out for a few minutes.”

“He’s really great,” you agree.

“Was Steve here?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah I saw him. He didn’t really stay either- I mean he stayed for the game, but we didn’t talk really.” You shrug.

“Well,” he says, trying to optimistically change the subject, “Do you wanna get out of here? I could give you a ride home or we could get food or something- or even just drive around and not talk. I’m not picky.”

He looks so beautiful like this, you observe. The sky is pitch black but the lights in the parking lot illuminate him perfectly with a soft glow. His hair is wonderfully messy and his smile is making it hard for you to breathe. Has he always looked like this? You wonder, astonished as it hits you all at once. He’s gorgeous. Your eyes linger, taking in every little detail you’ve overlooked before. He waves his hand in front of your face to snap you out of your trance.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he tisks.

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like you’re trying to jump my bones,” he chuckles. Your face warms, and suddenly you realize how long you must have been staring.

“Ha, right,” you joke sarcastically, or at least, trying to joke sarcastically. You walk past him and get into the passenger side of the van and try your best to compose yourself in the few seconds it takes for him to follow suit.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he says, turning over the ignition, “where to?”

“Can we just drive around like we used to?” you ask- the circumstances of tonight making you feel so nostalgic.

“Of course we can,” he hums, passing you the case of his cassettes- a familiar and welcomed sight for your tired eyes.

You watch Eddie as he drives, and observe the way the muscles in his arms flex ever so subtly as he turns the wheel. You watch his ringed fingers tap across the top of the steering wheel and you can’t help it the way your mind wanders. You’re so wrapped up in the way his hair sways so effortlessly and the movement of his jaw as he sings, you don’t even notice that Steve was leaving the gym just in time to see you both drive away.

After a little while of aimless driving, and hitting up the drive thru, Eddie ends up parking at Lover’s Lake when neither of you are ready to go home just yet.

“Eddie?” You ask absentmindedly, finishing off the milkshake he got you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he replies, also finishing his, but with an obnoxiously loud suck of his straw- determined to get every last sip.

“Why do you like me?” you ask, cringing almost immediately. You think you sound like a middle schooler or something- you’re so embarrassed. His eyes widen for a brief second, contemplating his answer. He tosses the empty cup into the back.

“First off,” he criticizes teasingly, “I did not say I liked you- I’m in love with you. Get your facts straight, ma’am.”

“My apologies,” you giggle, holding your hands up in defeat.

“I mean- I love everything about you; always have,” he starts. “You’re sweet and kind. I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re incredible, and sometimes I can’t figure out why you wanted to ever be friends with me in the first place.”

“Eddie?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Would you kiss me?”

Eddie’s a goner when you’re looking at him with those doe eyes. More than anything he wants to lunge across and close the space between you. It’s everything he’s ever wanted. It takes every fiber of his being to hold himself back..

“I don’t know if I can kiss you without knowing if I could ever kiss you again,” He whispers, but it doesn’t stop him from leaning in towards you. His hand lifts to hold your cheek and suddenly he’s so close. Closer than the two of you have ever been. His lips are tantalizingly close to yours when his forehead touches yours. A huge bang on the side of the van scares you both away from each other.

“Give her time, my ass, Munson! Get the fuck out here! Get your fucking hands off my girl!”

Taglist:

@sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs

215 notes · View notes

mistymysticalmoon · 2 days ago

Text

Frosty Morning

･ charles leclerc x reader ･

prompt: (fluff) on a snowy monaco morning you and charles enjoy a cozy, sweet moment together, cuddled up with léo and tangled in sheets.

warnings: none

wc: 800

a/n: leave a request inbox is open!

masterlist

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The warm sunlight broke through the curtains, melting away the frost on the window and pulling you from your dreams.

Your eyes flutter open, met with a light snow, a rarity in Monaco, which made it all the more beautiful.

It was finally winter, which meant fuzzy socks, hot chocolate, Christmas, and, best of all, winter break.

After a tough and exciting season, you and Charles could finally have time for yourselves. It had been a year since you'd both said "I do" in the serene south of France, surrounded by all you loved and adored. Your honeymoon had been long and amazing, but right after that, it was back to work for the both of you.

You had both yearned for each other in your time apart and now that you were together you intended to make the most of it.

You softly turned on your back, careful not to wake your sleeping husband, knowing how much he needed this rest. At the end of the bed lay Léo, comfy as ever sprawled out and lightly snoring. You shift, making yourself comfortable to gaze upon Charles’ unconscious face, his hair disheveled and his lips slightly parted.

He looks so peaceful, so perfect. You can't help but reach out, moving a misplaced hair from his eyes.

"Mmm," he stirs, nuzzling his face into his pillow before faintly opening his tired eyes.

"Oh, sorry, love, I didn't mean to wake you," you whisper, feeling guilty for selfishly stealing him from his sleep.

"Morning chérie" he smiles, reaching for your face.

You smile back at him, leaning into his touch and returning the greeting.

"Good morning, how did you sleep?"

"I always sleep beautifully when you're here, mon amour." Charles coos.

"Mmm, is that right?" you tease snuggling up to him.

He nods, chuckling deeply as he wraps his arms tighter around your frame, holding you impossibly close.

"I missed you, so much" you mumble into his chest.

He pulls your face up to his, bringing his lips to yours in a deep, meaningful kiss. You moan into his mouth, your fingers tightening around his bicep to steady yourself.

"Fuck, I missed you, baby, you have no idea," he murmurs against your lips.

"Mmm," you hum in accord, your fingers snaking into his hair, pulling softly just how he likes.

He pulls away only when he feels he needs air, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead and little pecks all over your face. You giggle at the sensation, play fighting him off before returning the gesture, also leaving him in a fit of giggles.

You sigh in contentment, looking over your husband's face, having missed these simple times when it was just you and him in your own little world away from all the racing and media and championship titles.

Just your Charles.

"You're so beautiful, mon cœur," Charles whispers, moving a strand of hair behind your ear. You giggle as you nuzzle your face into the bed, feeling a sudden shyness at his compliment.

"Amour, let me see your face, come here." He pulls your face up to his view, smiling and caressing your cheek and your cuteness.

"Thank you," you whisper, looking down at his chest where your fingers trace imaginary words and shapes.

He smiles at your shyness, finding it endearing. He leaned in to nudge your nose, his hand reaching up to cup your jaw, pulling you in closer, Your eyes fluttered shit as his lips met yours in the softest of kisses, his thumb brushing your cheek as you melted into each other.

It was a simple kiss, but it said so much.

Charles was slow in pulling away, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before you were burying your face in his chest, his arms pulling you in closer. You felt such love and tenderness you could burst, tangled up together with the one you loved in the place you called home.

Suddenly, a quiet yelp was heard in the room, pulling you and Charles from your intimate moment. Looking toward the end of the bed, you see Léo making his way up to the two of you, having become restless and needy. "Good morning, Léo, my love," you coo, beckoning him by patting the space between you and Charles.

Leo excitedly makes his way over, wagging his tail and getting straight to greeting his two favorite humans.

"Vraiment Léo?" Charles exclaims as the puppy licks over his face, causing you to burst into laughter at the adorable scene.

"Someone's excited to see us this morning, aren't you, Léo?" you giggle, petting his small frame as he makes his way over to you, now attacking your face with doggie kisses.

And so you spend the frosty winter morning like that, snuggled up in bed with your two favorite boys, overwhelmed with kisses.

#charles leclerc #formula one #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc fluff #f1 imagine #f1 fic #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot

197 notes · View notes

yellowfics · 1 day ago

Text

“can i leave a kiss on your soft lips, baby?”

it was one of those days. the kind of day where bakugo katsuki found himself in an internal battle, silently questioning what the hell it was about you that had him so damn hooked.

it reminded him of the time his mom used to go on about how she fell in love with his old man, telling that whole corny love story. he thought it was stupid back then, but now, here he was, going through the same damn thing with you.

you weren’t doing anything special, and you hadn’t changed a damn thing about how you looked—you were just you. the way you carried yourself, the way your laugh filled the room as you scrolled through your phone, probably watching some dumb tiktok. and that laugh, all carefree and unaware, drove him crazy. you had no idea how much it was getting to him. hell, he loved every little thing about you, even if it pissed him off sometimes.

katsuki stood by the counter, arms crossed, crimson eyes trained on you. he told himself he wasn’t staring; he was observing. watching. noticing every damn detail about you.

why the hell do you have to look so good doing nothing? he thought, scowling as he clenched his jaw.

it annoyed him to no end. not you—no, never you—but the fact that he couldn’t stop feeling this way. the worst part was you weren’t even trying to be attractive; you just were. the kind of attractiveness that made him feel vulnerable, and katsuki bakugo didn’t do vulnerable.

when you glanced up from your phone and caught his glare, you raised an eyebrow. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“like what?” he snapped, quickly averting his gaze and biting the inside of his cheek.

“like i just insulted your cooking or something.” you tilted your head, amused.

“damn it,” he muttered under his breath, ignoring your teasing.

you set your phone down, curiosity piqued. “what’s up with you?”

he didn’t answer immediately. his gaze flicked back to you, and it hit him again. that look in your eyes, the sound of your voice, the way you stood there like you weren’t making his heart pound out of his chest. katsuki ran a hand through his spiky blond hair, a growl rumbling low in his throat as he closed the distance between you.

when he was close enough, he reached out, his calloused hand cupping your face. his thumb brushed over your cheek, rough but surprisingly gentle. you blinked up at him, caught off guard.

“katsuki?” your voice was soft, questioning his actions.

he didn’t answer right away, his crimson eyes locking onto yours. for a moment, his usual scowl softened, something unspoken passing between you. then, in a voice low and steady, he said,

“can i leave a kiss on your soft lips, baby?”

your breath hitched, and your lips parted in surprise. a shy smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you nodded.

the corners of his lips twitched into a small smirk before he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. the kiss was slow and filled with a raw intensity that made your heart race. katsuki wasn’t often tender—he didn’t think he needed to be—but when he was, it was like the world melted away, leaving only the two of you.

when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his crimson eyes still locked onto yours.

“you drive me crazy,” he muttered, his voice quieter than usual. “hate how much i love you sometimes.”

you laughed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “i love you too, katsuki.”

#might be ooc #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha x reader #mha x you #mha bakugou #reqs open

171 notes · View notes

amorchai · 2 days ago

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒.

this is a repost from my old blog. original post was 1,186 notes.

pairing(s): steve harrington x shy!reader

words: 1705

warnings/tags: best friends to lovers, mentions of food, shy!reader.

“stevie?” you ask into the empty air, tearing your eyes away from the view in steve’s passenger seat as you previously pondered silently. “mhm?” is all he mumbles back, to show he’s listening while scooping another spoonful of the chocolate ice cream from his tub.

you weren’t sure why you were having ice cream on a cold winter’s night, but steve had suggested it and you never tend to question steve’s random motives as such. your half-eaten raspberry tub rests on your lap, slightly melted from neglect during the reverie you coaxed yourself into. parked atop a hill overlooking the town below the moonlight.

you don’t continue at first, looking down to your knee which now bounces anxiously. and with the extra space of silence, steve looks up from his ice cream, eyes peeking beneath the strands of hair that poke his face.

sitting the tub into one cup holder, steve moves back against his seat, one hand beginning to drum the steering wheel aimlessly while he watches your body language. “you don’t like it? thought it was one of your favourites?” steve continues worriedly, and nods towards the dessert in your hands.

you shake your head, ushering it into the cup holder beside his with a very small, “no, no. i do… i’ll have it in a second.”

“okay.”

the car falls silent again, steve watches as you slump against your seat and lose yourself in the view again. however, steve can tell it isn’t the landscape you’re thinking of, but if only he could pinpoint exactly what you were thinking.

penny for your thoughts, steve thinks and hesitates upon saying. in the end leaving you be at first, instead reaching a hand over to your restless knee and it suddenly stops moving. steve squeezes it affectionately, a small message that he’s still listening as he turns down the radio ever so slightly.

“what was your first kiss like?” you splutter all of a sudden, voice quiet and a deep nervous inhale following. steve wasn’t expecting it, eyes blinking and eyebrows raising as he processes the question. he taps your knee once more before moving his hand back to his lap, and you immediately miss the warmth.

“eighth grade with vanessa johnson. i freaked out so bad i bit her lip and she never spoke to me again.”

with steve’s statement you giggle. of course he did just that. “you bit her?” you repeat, hand covering your mouth as more laughter falls from your lips, and steve joins you with an amused nod, “sure did.”

your hand falls from your mouth while you lean your head back to face the car roof, laughter slowly falling back down and steve can only watch you with the fondest smile. “do you bite every girl you kiss?”

“no. funnily enough it was an accident and she hated my guts for it,” steve responds to your teasing with another chuckle emitting his throat. your head tilts to the side, cheek pressed to your shoulder as you look over at him, his gaze intoxicating as he smiles so warmly towards you.

“i got much better, y’know?” steve smirks, ego boosting himself. “i know,” you reply without thinking and steve pulls a face, confusion and amusement packed into one before nudging your arm gently, “what do you mean you know?”

you laugh again, embarrassed and quietly when you reply, “high school girls locker room. steve harrington was the topic of conversation most days before gym class for the popular girls.” steve grimaces, unamused and worried about the fact that you had heard those conversations about steve’s kissing techniques.

“god, high school. don’t miss it a bit.”

you don’t reply. looking out the passenger door window and to the couple of cars upon that side, distractedly staring as you sigh sadly. and steve’s not an idiot. he’s your best friend and also someone who’s been infatuated with you for years, he can tell what you’re thinking this time.

“it’ll happen, you just need to find the right person.”

your first kiss. still in your twenties without having ever kissed someone, while others around you were now in serious relationships.

you close your eyes and sigh at steve’s words. that’s the problem; you have always had the right person but you’re too terrified to make the first move. the unbearable fear that steve wouldn’t like you back was excruciating while he dated several girls during your friendship that you hoped he would be brave enough to do something instead.

maybe he just wasn’t interested in you that way. since he had no problem asking all those other girls out, as far as you can tell.

“i have an idea.”

steve’s quiet and patient to match your timid voice, you can usually get more shy in conversations you’re scared of and he’s willing to hear you out. but when is he never. “yeah?” is all he asks, practically a whisper.

your words get lodged in your throat, how are you supposed to ask your best friend to kiss you? that’s not easy. what if he hates you after? what if he thinks you’re impatient? or what if it ruins your friendship?

you wave yourself off, cringing on yourself and about to change the subject completely while leaning a hand down for your tub of ice cream but steve grips your hand and bends his head down to meet your gaze.

“hey, hey, hey. you can tell me your idea. i won’t judge you.”

“i don’t know, steve, i—” steve turns, his body facing yours while he grips your other free hand and you follow his movements to face him more clearer. the car light was on while you previously ate and it illuminated the tanned skin upon his face, showing off the sweet dark freckles spotted across his cheek and neck.

“i know who i want to be my first kiss.”

your forehead falls into you and steve’s held hands, embarrassed while a small ‘o’ shape forms on steve’s mouth as he thinks. “oh,” is all steve says, a pang of hurt sprawling across his chest rapidly at the realisation of... someone. someone.

before you can lift your head to ramble an apology about how stupid it is, steve beats you to it by holding onto his pride and storing away his sadness. “any guy would be so lucky to have you, yeah? so lucky, baby. and if you know who you want to be your first kiss, i say go for it.”

steve’s ready to continue, busy trying to seem like he’s okay with this idea and not noticing that you lift your head back up to look at him properly. he doesn’t notice the way you squeeze his gripping hands or giggle at his rushed voice, he doesn’t notice anything until you say, “steve.”

it’s quiet. your voice barely audible but steve thanks his good hearing because he immediately cuts himself off to listen to you. your faces are close, his pupils rapidly moving when they scan over your features as if he’s figuring out what you’re trying to say.

“what, baby?”

“steve.” you say again, tone knowing and desperate and almost a hint of feeling shameful and steve’s eyes widen when yours fleet to his lips for the shortest second. this can’t be real, steve thinks. there’s no way.

you huff when he still sits still, hands keep holding yours tightly, “don’t make me say it,” you whine and steve chuckles. he tilts his head down, forehead pressed against yours as he replies, “oh, but i want you to say it. please say it.”

you can feel the warmth spread to your face as another shy whine threatens to break your throat, but just as you move your head in an attempt to tuck it into his neck, steve’s hands are shuffling from yours so he’s cupping your face.

“it’s okay, baby. it’s okay. i can do it, i’ll gladly do it. if you want me to?” his thumbs swipe your skin so delicately and his eyes are gazing with such a genuine stare that you feel you might crumble. with a nod, there’s a strangled sentence you let out, “y-yes. i do, stevie.”

he chuckles once more, a mixture of how cute he thinks you are but also in disbelief that he’s about to kiss you.

steve’s so slow, head tilting as he leans forward so his nose runs across your skin and you can feel the ghost of his lips closer and closer. in a warm daze, you whisper into the cold car when steve’s lips touch the corner of yours, “don’t bite me.”

you feel the curve of his smile while his nose drags down your face so he’s tucked under your jaw, both of your chests heaving with laughter. your hands reach up so they are holding onto his wrists, and he looks back up at your cupped face, “no promises, you’ll probably taste of raspberry ice cream.”

this time steve’s patience isn’t as strong, leaning forward to crash his lips against yours in what you believe will be most breath-taking kiss you could ever receive. corners of both your lips threaten to smile as you feel the sparks within your chest and squeeze the skin of his wrists.

he tastes of chocolate from his ice cream and the coffee he had earlier on and you go light-headed at the thought, never wanting to pull away. he’s so sweet and slow, lips guiding yours against his so tenderly that you pray to god it won’t be the last steve harrington kiss you receive.

you both reluctantly pull away, lungs begging to be filled with air but steve only pulls away for a moment before pecking your lips again. your mind feels foggy from the gesture that you almost don’t notice the nip to your bottom lip as steve pulls away.

you gasp mockingly, opening your eyes with steve’s smug smirk, turning his palms from your face so he can hold yours again, resting them against your lap. “i was right,” steve says, leaning forward when you dip your head to contain your happiness.

“you taste like raspberries,” steve murmurs just as happily against your lips.

amorchai masterlist . taglist form

#➵ amorchai works ౨ৎ #stranger things ⁑ steve harrington ᡣ𐭩 #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fandom

172 notes · View notes

star2fishmeg · 2 days ago

Note

CONGRATS ON 1K 🥳

Could I request Quinn Hughes helping reader through a stress breakdown + #13?

Thank you for requesting <3

FLUFF #13 "You came." "You called."

📞 dialling…

Quinn had never gripped his steering wheel harder in his life. Never had been so impatient and desperate to get back to his apartment before. He’d never burst through the front door, dumping his bags and almost tripping through his hallway like he had after he saw the notification back in the rink’s locker room. The second he opened his phone after practice and saw her name on the ‘missed call’ notification, his stomach dropped drastically, and all clothing and equipment was shoved into his bag without much care.

Following the sniffling, he peered into his living room, slowly and quietly stepping closer to y/n curled up on his sofa, as if she were trying to melt into the back cushions from how tight she had pressed herself against them, like she was trying to get as far away from her laptop that sat on his table behind her and curl up into a ball. He thought for a second that the way she had positioned herself, she didn’t want to look at the device she usually would be working from when he got home, her eyes red and wide, wet with glistening cheeks, choked sobs falling from her chest staggered.

Taking a seat next her, lips pulled into a compassionate frown, Quinn wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her onto his lap and holding her to his chest, “Sshh, I’m here, darling, I’ve got you.”

For some reason, one she could not explain, she cried harder, a lump in her throat that was cured by wails and uncontrollable tears as she melted into his hold, tucking her head into his collarbone and letting his voice and hands sooth her. His heart ached, a sting in his chest as her hand clutched his hoodie.

After allowing herself to fall into vulnerability, safe in his warmth, y/n sniffed, eyes bleary and grip on his hoodie loosening. Quinn’s hands remained soft, caressing over her back and placing gentle kisses to her head.

“You came?” she croaked, voice only loud in the silence of the apartment.

His hold tightened, wiping her cheek with his thumb and gazing softly into her eyes, “You called, why wouldn’t I come?”

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I…I know not to call when you…you’re at practice but, but-” the words seemed to blurt out into breathless sobs, the kind that had her ugly crying where strings of saliva coated her lips, and she sniffed every few seconds to spare the embarrassment of getting mucus all over him.

“No, no. It’s okay, you can call me whenever you need.” He cooed, leaning back into the cushions.

He didn’t need to ask what she meant; they’d been together so long he just knew. She would never call him during practice unless it was an emergency. Not that he’d pick up until he’d re-enter the locker room, but y/n had a stone pride, a fear of asking for help and case of responsibility she felt obliged to even when she wasn’t. Being a hard-worker and carrying a weight were two different things and she couldn’t tell the difference, which led to situations like Quinn had walked in on. Y/n wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t out of desperation and the only time she ever called was when the weight of her stress crushed her into a mental and emotional collapse.

The sobbing gradually dulled into sniffing, y/n staring into space while he stroked her hair, “Do you wanna talk about it? Or I can run a bath with the candles? Or we can just cuddle and watch something?”

She didn’t ask a lot from him. Just to be held when she needed him the most and to let her hold him. And that intimacy was enough for her heart to slow into a peaceful rhythm.

“It’s too much, Quinn.” Her voice was strained, cheeks hot from her outburst. Yet, he didn’t know how long she’d been crying and panicking for until she called, and that pained him the most. “There’s so much work to do and so little time, but if I don’t do it, I’ll let everyone down and they’ll hate me and I’ll lose my job and-”

“-and you don’t have to do it alone. Why don’t we take a bath, cuddle on the couch and we can talk it through?”

She’d never met a gentler man in her life. She’d seen him tussle on the ice, throw a punch or two but that never made it outside the rink. He never raised his voice, never left any argument unresolved and his voice was always softer with her, whether he knew it or not. His arms, his warm and inviting arms paired with him knowing exactly what she needed without her saying a word broke away the distress chip by chip.

Shaking her head wearily, her lip quivered, “No, Q, you don’t have to go through all that, I can handle it, I swear. You’ve got your own things, I’m just overreacting, I’m fine, it’s fine. Yeah.”

“Y/n, look at me.” Quinn pulled her away from his chest, hand cupping her cheek and bringing her head to look him in his eyes. “Breathe. You’re not going to do this alone. I’m here for you and I love you, I will do whatever it takes to make you feel better, okay?”

She nodded, his thumb wiping away any excess tears. She swallowed the lump in her throat, breathing in for five seconds and exhaling for another five, just as Quinn taught her. Soft lips pressed to her temple, and she gave a small smile, leaning against his chest once again.

#≡megs1kcelly #≡qh43 #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader

213 notes · View notes

hjpsdiary · 1 day ago

Text

slytherin boy's headcons (them as ur bf <3)

theodore nott as your boyfriend :

• he’s the definition of quiet but observant; he notices every little thing about you, from your favorite snacks to how you fidget when nervous.

• doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s meaningful—his compliments feel rare and precious.

• surprisingly affectionate in private; he’ll always find excuses to brush his fingers against yours or pull you close when no one’s looking.

• reads a lot and will casually leave books he thinks you’d like in your bag or on your desk.

• fiercely protective but subtle about it—he’ll silently step in when someone’s bothering you or shoot a glare that makes them back off immediately.

• has a sarcastic sense of humor that comes out more as he gets comfortable with you; you’re one of the few people who ever see him smile.

• remembers everything you say, even the small things, and will surprise you by acting on it weeks later.

• not big on grand romantic gestures but makes up for it with small, thoughtful actions, like brewing your favorite tea or saving you a seat in class.

• loves stargazing; it’s one of the rare times he really opens up, sharing his thoughts and dreams while lying next to you under the stars.

• isn’t the best with words when expressing feelings but tries to write them down for you in short, heartfelt notes.

• values trust above all else; if you’re patient with him, he’ll let his walls down completely and be endlessly loyal.

• his love language is acts of service—he’ll carry your books, fix your broken quill, or help you study without you even asking.

• secretly adores when you wear something of his, like a sweater or scarf, and won’t say it outright but will be internally smug all day.

• has a soft, calming presence that makes you feel safe and at ease no matter what’s going on around you.

• he’s not perfect, sometimes retreating into himself when overwhelmed, but he’ll always come back to you, knowing you’re his anchor.

mattheo riddle as your boyfriend :

• the ultimate bad boy with a soft spot only for you; he’s tough around others but absolutely melts when it comes to you.

• constantly teases you but gets genuinely offended if you don’t fire back—he loves the banter.

• incredibly protective to the point where he’ll square up with anyone who even looks at you the wrong way.

• thrives on physical touch—his arm is always slung around your shoulders, hand in your back pocket, or fingers intertwined with yours.

• has a devilish grin that he only uses to fluster you because he knows it works every single time.

• somehow knows exactly where you are at all times, and not in a creepy way—just always shows up when you need him.

• calls you ridiculous nicknames like “princess,” “trouble,” or “love,” depending on his mood.

• super possessive but not in a toxic way—he just loves reminding people that you’re his.

• absolutely hates when you’re upset with him and will go out of his way to apologize, even if it means swallowing his pride.

• smokes casually and offers you his jacket when it’s cold, the scent of him lingering on it for hours after.

• loves pulling you into trouble with him, whether it’s sneaking out after curfew or pranking someone, but always makes sure you’re safe.

• surprisingly intellectual—he can talk about dark magic theories for hours and gets a kick out of teaching you forbidden spells.

• his temper can flare up, especially when someone crosses you, but he always calms down when you’re around.

• absolutely adores seeing you in his clothes; he’ll smirk and say, “Looks better on you, anyway.”

• deeply loyal—once you have his heart, there’s no getting rid of him, and he’ll do anything to keep you happy.

• loves late-night conversations, where he gets a little vulnerable and tells you about his past and his fears.

• has a soft side he rarely shows, but when he does, it’s for you—whether it’s stroking your hair when you’re stressed or mumbling “I love you” when he thinks you’re asleep.

• he’s chaos personified, but somehow, with you, he feels like he’s finally found a bit of peace.

lorenzo birkshire as your boyfriend:

• he’s the smooth talker who flirts like it’s second nature, but with you, it’s genuine—he means every word.

• loves to make you laugh; he’ll go out of his way to crack jokes, pull silly faces, or do over-the-top impressions just to see you smile.

• low-key a hopeless romantic; he’ll surprise you with little handwritten notes, flowers he “found,” or surprise dates in secret spots.

• absolutely loves PDA—he’s the type to kiss your cheek in front of everyone or hold your hand just to let people know you’re his.

• he’s fiercely loyal, and anyone who tries to mess with you instantly regrets it; he’ll defend you without hesitation.

• the type to whisper in your ear during class, making you both laugh quietly, even if it earns him a detention.

• incredibly charming but gets adorably flustered when you flirt back or catch him off guard.

• loves spoiling you in small ways—buying you your favorite sweets, carrying your bag, or sneaking you an extra butterbeer during Hogsmeade trips.

• surprisingly good at comforting you when you’re upset; he’ll listen, wrap you in a warm hug, and crack just the right joke to lighten the mood.

• lives for the banter between you two; he thinks it’s hilarious when you try to outwit him, even if you win.

• would give you his scarf or cloak without hesitation if you were cold and wouldn’t stop teasing you about looking “adorable” in it.

• the type to plan spontaneous adventures, dragging you out of bed to sneak around the castle or explore forbidden areas.

• he’s a mix of chaotic energy and soft affection, always knowing when to be playful and when to be serious.

• low-key brags about you to his friends but pretends he’s “too cool” to care when they tease him about how smitten he is.

• loves running his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, especially when you’re sitting close or leaning against him.

• insists on being your biggest cheerleader, hyping you up before exams, Quidditch matches, or even small challenges.

• gets jealous easily but tries to play it off—he’s terrible at hiding it, though, and ends up pouting until you reassure him.

• he’s the kind of boyfriend who’s both your partner in crime and your safe place, balancing wild fun with genuine love.

draco malfoy as your boyfreind:

• starts off guarded, but once he lets his walls down, he’s completely devoted to you.

• the type to act all cool and aloof in public but secretly loves holding your hand or brushing his fingers against yours.

• buys you extravagant gifts, not because he’s trying to show off, but because it’s how he expresses his love—jewelry, rare books, or even something sentimental he knows you’ll cherish.

• incredibly protective; he’d go out of his way to make sure you’re safe and comfortable, whether that means intimidating someone who’s bothering you or walking you to every class.

• struggles to express his emotions verbally but makes up for it through his actions—he’ll always be there when you need him, no questions asked.

• low-key thrives on your praise; hearing you say you’re proud of him or appreciate him makes him feel on top of the world.

• gets jealous easily and tries to play it cool, but his little snarky comments give him away every time.

• loves spoiling you in subtle ways, like slipping your favorite dessert onto your plate at dinner or reserving the best spot in the library for you.

• softens dramatically when he’s with you; he goes from sharp sarcasm to quiet vulnerability in your presence.

• late-night talks are where he truly opens up, sharing his fears, insecurities, and dreams he’s too afraid to admit to anyone else.

• secretly loves when you mess with his perfectly styled hair, even though he’ll complain about it every time.

• will drape his scarf or coat around your shoulders if you’re cold, muttering something about how he “can’t have you freezing to death.”

• loves hearing you laugh; he’ll go out of his way to say something witty just to see you smile, even if it’s at his expense.

• incredibly attentive to your needs—he notices when you’re tired, stressed, or upset, and does everything he can to help.

• he’s not big on public displays of affection but will always find little ways to show you’re his, like resting his hand on your lower back or standing close enough for your shoulders to touch.

• gets flustered when you compliment him, especially if you call him handsome or clever—he’ll roll his eyes, but his pink cheeks give him away.

• he’s not perfect and sometimes lashes out when he’s stressed, but he’s quick to apologize and make it up to you.

• when he says he loves you, it’s rare but deeply meaningful—you can tell he means it with everything he has.

• despite his flaws, he’s fiercely loyal, endlessly protective, and wholly yours, doing everything he can to make you feel loved.

blaise zabini as your boyfriend:

• effortlessly smooth and confident, he doesn’t even need to try to charm you—it’s just who he is.

• the king of subtle but meaningful gestures, like holding doors open for you, pulling out your chair, or placing his hand on your lower back to guide you through a crowd.

• loves to spoil you, but in a classy, understated way—think fine chocolate, rare books, or spontaneous weekend getaways.

• very private about your relationship; he keeps most of his affection behind closed doors but isn’t shy about letting people know you’re his.

• gives the best advice; he’s incredibly perceptive and always knows the right thing to say when you’re stressed or upset.

• he’s not big on loud, over-the-top displays of affection, but his actions always show how much he cares—he’s the type to quietly take care of things before you even ask.

• loves watching you talk about something you’re passionate about; he’ll rest his chin in his hand and just admire you with a soft smile.

• has a wicked sense of humor and loves teasing you, but it’s always playful and never hurtful—he secretly loves when you tease him back.

• he’s the epitome of cool, calm, and collected, but you’re the only one who can fluster him when you catch him off guard with affection or a well-timed compliment.

• ridiculously good at remembering details about you, like your favorite drink, your childhood stories, or even the exact shade of your favorite lipstick.

• loves to keep you close—whether it’s casually draping an arm over your shoulder or pulling you into his lap when you’re alone together.

• fiercely protective but subtle about it; one look from him is enough to make anyone second-guess bothering you.

• will casually drop compliments about you in conversations with his friends, but if they tease him about being soft, he just smirks and doesn’t deny it.

• he’s a fantastic listener and always makes you feel like you’re the most important person in the room when you’re talking to him.

• takes immense pride in how you carry yourself and always reminds you of how incredible you are, even if you don’t see it yourself.

• adores dressing up for dates with you and insists on coordinating outfits so you both look effortlessly elegant together.

• late nights with him often involve deep conversations, a bottle of wine, and a lot of soft touches as he shares pieces of himself he doesn’t show anyone else.

• has a surprisingly tender side—he’ll hold you close when you’re feeling down, whispering reassurances that everything will be okay.

• he’s all about balance: the perfect mix of suave, playful, and deeply caring, making you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

#slytherin boys x you #slytherin boys fluff #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin x reader #slytherin #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #theodore nott x reader #mattheo riddle #blaise zabini #lorenzo berkshire

157 notes · View notes

onebadassunicorn · 3 days ago

Text

All I Want Is You

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: pure fluff!

word count: 820

Taglist: @firefly-forest @salvatoresister1 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @batboyslutt @tiredsleepyhead

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

******

Chapter 8

The storm outside was relentless, thunder roaring like a feral beast and lightning illuminating the house in bursts of blinding white. Eryan huddled in his small bed, his blanket clutched tightly in his trembling hands. Each crash of thunder felt louder than the last, shaking the walls and making his small wings flutter nervously.

Tears pricked at his eyes, spilling over as fear overwhelmed him. He couldn’t stay in his room any longer. “Daddy,” he whimpered softly to the empty space, his voice barely audible over the raging storm.

Sliding out of bed, he padded across the dark hallway to his parents’ room, his tiny feet making no sound on the wooden floor. The familiar, comforting scent of them greeted him, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Daddy,” he said again, louder this time, his voice cracking with fear as he tugged at the edge of the blanket on their bed.

Azriel stirred immediately, his shadows snapping to attention before settling around him. His golden-hazel eyes opened, and the sight of his son standing there with tear-streaked cheeks and trembling hands made his chest tighten.

“Ery?” Azriel’s voice was soft, a soothing balm against the chaos of the storm.

Eryan sniffled, his voice breaking as he clutched the edge of the blanket tighter. “Daddy, I’m scared.”

Azriel was out of bed in an instant, crouching in front of his son and pulling him into his arms. “Hey, tough guy,” he murmured, his deep voice soothing as he brushed a hand over Eryan’s dark curls. “It’s just a storm. It can’t hurt you. I’ve got you.”

“But it’s so loud,” Eryan cried, his little wings trembling as he clung to his father’s neck.

“I know, little one,” Azriel said softly, lifting him into his arms and carrying him back to the bed he and Y/n shared. He climbed in, settling Eryan against his chest, his bare skin warm and steady beneath the boy’s trembling frame.

Azriel tucked the blankets around them both, his strong arms wrapping securely around his son. Eryan hesitated for a moment before laying his head directly on his father’s chest, his tiny hands clutching at Azriel’s shoulders. The steady, rhythmic thump of Azriel’s heartbeat filled Eryan’s ears, grounding him in a way nothing else could.

“Daddy,” Eryan whispered after a few moments, his voice soft and trembling. “I can hear your heart.”

Azriel smiled faintly, his hand stroking Eryan’s back as he murmured, “What does it sound like, tough guy?”

Eryan pressed his ear closer, his little body finally beginning to relax. “Thump, thump,” Eryan murmured quietly, his voice hitching with the last of his tears.

“It sounds strong,” he said, his little voice filled with awe. “Really strong. I want to be strong like you when I grow up.”

Azriel’s heart melted at his son’s quiet words. He tightened his hold on Eryan, his shadows curling protectively around them both.

“That’s right,” Azriel said with a faint smile, his hand still moving over Eryan’s back. “It’s strong, isn’t it? Just like you. My tough guy.”

Eryan let out a shaky breath, the sound of Azriel’s heartbeat and his soothing voice beginning to calm him. “You’re not scared of the storm?” he asked softly.

“Nope,” Azriel replied. “And you don’t need to be either. You’ve got me, and I’m not scared of anything when I have you and Mommy and Azriella to protect.”

Eryan let out a small, sleepy hum, his little body settling against Azriel’s chest as his breathing began to even out. “I love you, Daddy,” he whispered, his voice thick with drowsiness.

“I love you too, Ery,” Azriel murmured, pressing a kiss to his son’s hair. “More than anything.”

As Eryan drifted off to sleep, the storm still raging outside, Azriel held him tightly, his strong arms sheltering the boy from the chaos of the world. The steady rhythm of Azriel’s heartbeat lulled Eryan into peaceful slumber, his father’s warmth and strength a fortress against the storm.

Y/n stirred beside them, her voice soft and full of love. “Is he okay?”

Azriel glanced at her, his golden eyes warm despite the storm outside. “He’s fine, baby,” he said quietly, his gaze falling back to his son. “He just needed his daddy.”

She smiled, resting her hand lightly on Azriel’s arm. “He’s lucky to have you.”

Azriel kissed the top of Eryan’s head again, his heart full as he held his son. “No,” he said softly, his voice filled with quiet reverence. “I’m the lucky one.”

And as the storm began to fade, Azriel found himself silently thanking whatever forces had brought this little family into his life.

Chapter 9

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel #azriel fluff #acotar fluff

110 notes · View notes

szariahwroteit · 3 days ago

Text

Doll House: A Jude Bellingham + Original Character Erotic Series

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 4

“Wrap your legs around me,” Jude said with a playful smirk, his hands firm yet gently gripping Tori’s hips. As he hoisted her effortlessly from the shimmering sea, he began to wade deeper into the cool, inviting water, the gentle waves lapping around them, creating a sense of exhilaration and intimacy.

“Please don't throw me in,” Tori smiled cautiously, her arms wrapping around Jude’s broad shoulders, tightening her hold on him.

“I promise you I won’t,” Jude replied, his voice teasing yet reassuring. “But you have to trust me. Just enjoy the moment.”

Tori felt a rush of warmth spread through her as she looked into his eyes, the playful glint in them making her heart race. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the water, and the world around them felt like a dream.

“Okay, okay,” she said, her laughter bubbling up as she adjusted her grip. “Just don’t let go!”

With a confident grin, Jude began to move deeper into the water, the waves splashing around them. Tori could feel the coolness of the sea against her skin, contrasting with the warmth radiating from Jude’s body. The sensation sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn’t help but giggle as the water splashed playfully against her.

“See? Not so bad, right?” Jude said, glancing back at her, his expression a mix of mischief and delight.

“Not bad at all!” Tori replied, her laughter ringing out as she felt the thrill of the moment. “But I still don’t trust you completely!”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I promise, I’m a good swimmer. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

As they waded further into the water, Tori felt a sense of freedom wash over her. The worries of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in this beautiful moment. She could feel the rhythm of the waves, the gentle sway of Jude’s body beneath her, and the warmth of the setting sun on her skin.

“Okay, but if you do throw me in, I’m getting you back,” Tori warned, her eyes narrowing playfully.

Jude laughed, the sound deep and rich. ”I’d rather kiss you,”

He said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by something deeper.

Tori felt her breath hitch at his words, her heart racing as she searched his gaze. The atmosphere shifted slightly, the playful banter giving way to a moment charged with unspoken tension.

Leaning into him, Tori pressed her lips against Jude's, her eyes fluttering shut as she surrendered to the warmth of the moment. She felt the weight of his hand, firm yet gentle, as it slid from her hip to grip the back of her neck, fingers threading softly through her hair. His touch anchored her in place, intensifying the electricity between them as she melted into the kiss.

Jude let out a moan of approval as he parted Tori’s lips with his tongue, slipping it into her mouth as he sought to explore her.

Dubai thus far had been nothing short of perfect and with only two days until the new year the city had already begun to buzz.

While Jude had been stopped by fans and swarmed by cameras on a few occasions, he did his best to keep that side of his life away from Tori and she was beyond thankful for it.

The more time she spent around Jude the more she understood how sought-after an athlete he was. Just how bright his star shined.

“Easily one of my favourite pastimes,” Jude smirked against Tori’s lips.

“What is?” she asked curiously.

“Kissing you,” he added with a playful grin, his eyes glinting mischievously.

Tori felt her cheeks flush at his words, a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration flooding through her. "You know, you really are quite the charmer," she teased, pulling back slightly to look at him, their foreheads almost touching.

“Is it working?” Jude smirked.

“I’d say,” Tori confirmed. “You got me out of my panties in the first forty-eight, and you spilled your drink on me,” she smiled teasingly.

Jude burst into laughter, the sound echoing around them and mingling with the soft lapping of the waves. “Well, I must be doing something right then,” he said, his voice dripping with playful confidence. Tori rolled her eyes playfully, a smile tugging at her lips as she tried to suppress another giggle.

Leaning into her, Jude's tongue slipped playfully against her lips, reigniting the spark that had momentarily dimmed. Tori found herself lost in the kiss once more, the world around them fading away as they embraced the intimacy of the moment.

“Okay, okay,” Tori said, pulling back slightly, her breath warm against his skin. “Can we please get back to the shore?”

Jude chuckled, his arms tightening around her momentarily before he nodded. "Alright, but only if you promise me one thing," he said, his eyes glinting with a troublesome energy.

“What’s that?” Tori asked, tilting her head, curiosity dancing in her gaze.

“Promise me that if I do throw you in, you won't be mad at me,” he replied with a playful grin.

Tori couldn't help but laugh. “I can't make any promises,”

With that, Jude began to make his way back to the shore with Tori in his arms.

When they were back on dry land, Jude placed Tori back onto her feet, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he darted off to use the bathroom.

Tori felt giddy as she made her way back to her seat, a lazy smile spread across her face as she walked along the hot sand.

As she made her way back to her seat, Tori smiled politely as she passed two of Jude’s teammates who sat sun bathing. Her polite gesture went unnoticed by the two men who were engrossed in conversation, however, when she walked past them and overheard their conversation, her stomach flipped.

“She is beautiful, but she's only here for convenience,” one of Jude teammates said, making the other he sat beside laugh before agreeing with his statement.

“Likewise,” the other man said, shaking his head. “Last night I had to send mine back to her room after sex, I didn't care to hear what she had to say.”

Tori felt a cold wave of disappointment wash over her as she heard the words echo in her mind. She had been enjoying this blissful escape with Jude, but hearing those comments made her question the depth of their connection. Was she really just a fleeting distraction for him, a convenience in a city where he was the star? The warmth that had enveloped her moments ago began to fade into a chill of uncertainty.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to push the thoughts aside. Jude had been nothing but kind to her, and their time together had felt genuine. Yet, the seed of doubt had been planted, and she couldn’t ignore it. She needed to regroup, to find her footing again.

As she approached the area where the other girls were sitting, she spotted a few familiar faces. They were laughing and chatting, the sun casting a warm glow on their sun-kissed skin. Tori hesitated for a moment before deciding to join them, hoping that their energy would lift her spirits.

“Hey, Tori! Come sit with us!” one of the girls called out, waving her over enthusiastically. Tori forced a smile and walked towards them, trying to shake off the lingering doubts.

“Hey, ladies!” Tori greeted, settling down on the soft sand beside them. “What are you all up to?”

“Just planning our New Year’s Eve outfits!” one of the girls said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Tori tried to match their enthusiasm, but her mind was still reeling from the comments she had overheard.

As the conversation continued, Tori listened intently, laughing at their jokes and sharing in their excitement. But a part of her couldn’t shake off the feeling of being on the outside, like she was in the same boat as the girls who were only here for a fleeting moment. She was starting to feel like maybe she was also just another notch on Jude’s bedpost.

“Do you know what you're wearing?” one girl asked, breaking Tori from her thoughts.

“If not, we could go shopping. Kylian promised me a shopping spree before I head back to Miami,” another chimed in, and they all laughed, the camaraderie palpable.

Tori had come to a startling realization: aside from one woman in their group, none of them shared a genuine bond with the men they were with. Their relationships seemed to be based solely on convenience and being rewarded for it, and this revelation left her feeling uneasy.

Politely excusing herself from the conversation, Tori strolled along the shoreline as attempted to clear her racing mind.

Gentle waves washed over her feet as she absentmindedly played with the small gold rings that adorned her perfectly manicured fingers.

Tori was lost in her thoughts, completely oblivious to Jude approaching her from behind. He gently rested his hand on the small of her back as he caught up with her.

Tori jumped slightly at the unexpected touch, her thoughts snapping back to reality. She turned to face Jude, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh, hey,” she said, trying to shake off the fog of her earlier contemplation.

“Everything okay?” Jude asked, his brow furrowed in concern. He had been attentive to her since the moment they met, but despite this quality, Tori couldn't see past her insecure thoughts.

“Yeah, just… thinking,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders as if to dismiss her unease.

Jude nodded, but she could see the doubt in his eyes. “Can I walk with you?” he asked, smiling softly as he took her hand into his.

Tori felt a warmth spread through her at the gesture, but it was quickly overshadowed by the weight of her thoughts. She appreciated Jude’s sincerity, yet the delicacy of their connection loomed large in her mind.

“Sure,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, as they began to walk slowly along the water’s edge. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore accompanied their silence, creating a soothing backdrop that contrasted with her inner turmoil.

“What’s on your mind?” Jude asked, glancing sideways at her, his eyes searching for a glimpse of the truth she was holding back.

Tori hesitated, feeling the pull between wanting to share and the instinct to protect her vulnerabilities. “Just… something I overheard your teammate say, I guess,” she finally admitted.

Jude’s expression shifted; he turned to face her fully, concern etched on his features. “What was said?”

“One of your teammates made a comment that the girl he brought to Dubai with him was purely for convenience…I hate to make something out of nothing, but it did get me thinking,” Tori said, her voice trailing off. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach as she tried to articulate her feelings.

Jude frowned, processing her words. “I can see how that would bother you. It’s not really the kind of thing you want to hear, but I can assure you you're not just here for my convenience,” he explained, squeezing her hand for reassurance.

Coming to a stop, he took hold of her other hand as he looked into her eyes, the soft breeze tousling her hair as his eyes traced over her. “I know I might not be the best at expressing it, but I genuinely enjoy every moment we spend together. You are here because I want you to be here—I want to get to know you. Not for convenience or sex.”

Jude felt a pang in his heart as he gazed at Tori's stunning face. She was undeniably beautiful, and it saddened him to imagine the struggles she must have faced in her past that led her to question her own worth.

In his experience, he'd given women the bare minimum, and that minimal effort had been enough for them to believe they were warranted a place in his life. Yet here Tori was, both beautiful and intriguing, questioning whether or not he truly valued her presence on this trip when she was who he wanted.

"In the most sincere way possible, I realize that being around someone like me might feel overwhelming, but I want you to understand how much I truly enjoy your presence and I want to continue learning about you," Jude explained.

Beyond sex he enjoyed her company, she was smart, insightful and funny. He enjoyed sitting and learning about her as much as he did each time they were intimate.

Tori's heart raced as she processed Jude's words, his intense gaze locking her in place. The depth of his sincerity caught her off guard, momentarily eclipsing the swirling doubts in her mind. “You really mean that?” she asked her voice barely a whisper, vulnerability peeking through the cracks of her defences.

“Absolutely,” he replied, his tone steady and calm. “You’re not just a fling to me, Tori. I don’t want to just scratch an itch. I want to explore who you are. I want to share experiences with you, learn about your dreams, and understand you. It’s more than just physical.”

The sincerity in Jude’s eyes held her captive, and with each passing moment, it felt as if he was peeling back her layers. Tori felt the sun warming her skin, the gentle lapping of the waves caressing her feet, and as the cool sea breeze danced around them, a small part of her began to thaw. "I'm sorry for even bringing it to your attention," she confessed. “You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.”

Jude shook his head gently, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. “No, don’t apologize. I’d rather you share what’s on your mind than keep it bottled up. I’m here to listen,” he said, his voice low and soft, yet laced with an intensity that made Tori's heart flutter.

He stepped closer, closing the distance between them just enough that she could feel his warmth radiating toward her. “Besides, I want to know everything that makes you, well, you,” Jude added, his eyes shining with a genuine exuberance that made her feel both cherished and exposed.

The weight of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine, and Tori felt a rush of emotions flood over her—relief, curiosity, a hint of something deeper that scared and excited her all at once.

“I’ve been trying to get to know you since I spilled my drink on you, all I need is for you to let me,” Jude continued, his voice a soft murmur as they stood inches apart. The sound of the waves grew distant, muffled by the quickening pulse in her ears. Tori felt time slow around them; the beautiful beach, the warm sun, the endless sky—all vanished as she focused solely on Jude.

Jude understood her apprehension, there were no clear bounds between them. Only a bond forged amid lust and desire. He understood how daunting the world of a celebrity could appear to someone on the outside looking in.

As he stood before her, Jude could sense the weight of Tori's hesitation, the uncertainties swirling in her beautiful mind. He didn’t want to push her, but he felt a magnetic pull toward her—a profound connection that transcended mere physical attraction. “I know it can be intimidating, being close to someone who lives in the spotlight. But I want to make it clear that the reason I’m drawn to you is because of who you are, not because I think I can have my way with you.”

Tori swallowed hard, his words resonating with the hidden depths of her soul. She had spent much of her life hiding behind a veneer, afraid of being hurt or misunderstood.

She'd spent so much of her life putting her thoughts and feelings aside to accommodate others in relationships, her career, and even among her own flesh and blood, and she didn't know if she could continue in the same fashion with Jude.

“Jude, if you feel the same way as your teammates and that's what this is, I’d rather you tell me.” Jude's expression shifted to one of sincerity, a seriousness that made Tori's heart race.

“Tori, I promise you, this isn’t that. I’m not them,” he said, his tone firm yet gentle. “What we have is only for us. I feel a connection with you that I want to explore,”

Tori felt her breath hitch again, her heart swelling with a mix of hope and fear. Could it be true? Was she really more than just a momentary distraction in his world?

“If anything changes, will you let me know?” Tori asked, her voice barely above a whisper, vulnerability spilling from her heart.

“Of course,” Jude replied, his expression softening. “I want to be open with you about everything. Although I doubt anything will make me stop liking you.”

Tori felt a wave of relief wash over her, mingling with the flutter of excitement in her chest. Jude’s words resonated deep within her, dispelling the doubts that had begun to creep in. “Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes searching for any hint of deceit, but all she found was sincerity and warmth.

“I just want you to enjoy your time here, Tori,” Jude continued, a smile breaking across his face. “We’ve got two days until the new year, and I want them to be memorable for both of us.”

“And I want that too,” Tori admitted, a genuine smile emerging on her lips. “I’ve had such an amazing time with you so far.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, Tori and Jude made their way back to their hotel, the air still warm with the lingering heat of the day. The tension that had been clouding Tori's mind began to lift, replaced by a renewed sense of hope. Jude’s sincerity had grounded her, and she felt lighter in his presence.

After a quick shower and changing into something more suitable for an evening out, Tori stood in front of the mirror, her heart racing with anticipation. She chose a fitted black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, the hem flaring slightly as it grazed her thighs. She applied just a touch of makeup, enhancing her natural beauty, and as she finished, she caught her reflection—confident and excited.

Just as she finished, Jude knocked on the door. “You ready?” he called out, his voice warm and inviting.

“Almost!” Tori replied, quickly spritzing herself with a light floral perfume before heading to the door. When she opened it, Jude stood before her, dressed in a casual outfit that consisted of a crisp white t-shirt, jeans and sneakers, that accentuated his athletic build.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled as his hand found her hip.

Tori felt her cheeks flush at his compliment, a shy smile spreading across her face. “Thank you! You look pretty good yourself,” she replied, her heart racing at the sight of him. The way he looked at her, with that intense gaze, made her feel like the only person in the room.

“Ready to make some memories?” Jude asked, his excitement infectious as he offered her his arm. Tori nodded, slipping her hand through the crook of his elbow, feeling a thrill of anticipation as they stepped out into the warm Dubai night.

Taking the elevator only one floor down, Jude led Tori towards his teammate's suite where a small gathering was already underway. The laughter and chatter grew louder as they approached, and Tori could feel a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling within her. She had already met some of Jude's teammates, but this would be her first time socializing with the larger group, and she wanted to make a good impression.

“Don’t worry,” Jude said, sensing her apprehension as he opened the door to the suite. “They’re all cool.”

As they stepped inside, Tori was greeted by the lively atmosphere. The room was filled with music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. Jude's teammates were gathered around a table, drinks in hand, animatedly discussing something. The air was thick with camaraderie, and Tori felt a spark of excitement.

As the party progressed, drinks flowed freely, and the laughter became louder. Tori found herself chatting with a couple of the girls who had come along with the guys, sharing stories and getting to know each other better. Jude stayed close, occasionally joining their conversations, but it was clear that the atmosphere was getting more playful as the night went on.

“Alright, alright!” one of Jude’s teammates shouted over the music, drawing everyone’s attention. “It's time for a little fun! Jude, you know the rules: it’s not a party until someone gets a lap dance!”

The group erupted in cheers, and Tori felt her heart race. She glanced at Jude, who was shaking his head, a hint of amusement in his expression. “No way,” he said, laughing. “I’m not doing that!”

“Oh, come on!” Max insisted, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “You can’t back down now! You’re the star! You can’t let the others show you up.”

The playful challenge hung in the air, and Tori felt a mix of apprehension and curiosity. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the idea of Jude being put on the spot like this, but there was a part of her that wanted to see how they would handle it.

Taking a step back, Tori watched as the scene unfolded before her. Jude was forced into a seat before a woman who had been dancing nearby, her confidence radiating as she approached him with a playful smirk. The group fell silent, the anticipation thick in the air. Tori could feel the heat rising within her as she watched the scene unfold.

The woman, dressed in a fitted top and shorts that left little to the imagination, swayed her hips as she approached Jude. Her laughter was infectious, and even he couldn't help but chuckle at the predicament he found himself in.

Jude crossed his arms, trying to feign indifference, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that betrayed his enjoyment. “Alright, just this once,” he conceded, letting out a mock sigh. The crowd erupted into cheers again, creating a whirlwind of energy around them.

Tori couldn’t take her eyes off Jude as he settled into the chair, his strong frame relaxed yet alert, ready for whatever was coming his way. The music switched to something sultry, and the woman leaned in closer, taking a seat on his lap.

The moment was light-hearted and somewhat amusing, but the smile dropped from Tori’s face as the woman pulled down her top to reveal her breast, making the room erupt as she took hold of Jude’s wrist, guiding his hands to her chest, leaning back against him as she whispered something in his ear.

This was her boiling point; her cup had runneth over. A combination of the all-too-casual comment made by Jude’s teammate, the way the world seemed to bend to his will and women flocked to him, and worst of all, her self-doubt.

Silently making her way out of the bustling hotel suite, Tori couldn't stop her eyes from filling with tears as she meandered through the crowd of party-goers, laughter and music fading into a blur around her.

The dim lighting and pulsing rhythm of the music, which had felt so inviting moments before, now only added to her sense of isolation. Each chuckle that rang out made her heart clench tighter, each flirtation that she witnessed felt like a dagger.

Tori stepped out into the corridor and towards the elevator so she could head upstairs to her hotel room, a sanctuary she desperately needed. As the elevator doors slid shut, blocking out the sounds of the party, she inhaled deeply, trying to steady her racing heart. In the confined space, the fluorescent lights felt harsh against her skin, intensifying her emotions.

She pressed the button for her floor, watching the lights blink out as the elevator ascended. Each ping sounded like a countdown to her solitude. The moment the doors opened, she rushed down the hallway, her heels clicking rhythmically against the polished floor.

“Fuck,” Tori hissed as she remembered that she'd asked Jude to put her room key in his pocket. Wrapping her arms around herself she felt her lip begin to tremble, her vision blurring as she stood stationary.

Tori leaned against the cool wall of the hallway, her emotions battling within her like a storm. The laughter echoing in her head from the party downstairs felt like it belonged to another world—one where she didn’t belong, stifled by her insecurities.

Taking a breath, she attempted to calm the whirlwind inside her. She had thought tonight would be fun after their conversation on the beach. She had envisioned moments with Jude filled with playful banter and connection, but now it felt like she had lost him to the chaos, to a life he was accustomed to as a celebrity of his magnitude.

The clicking of heels made Tori’s breath hitch and she instantly attempted to make herself small as she turned to face the door, hoping whoever it was wouldn't pay her any mind.

“I see you have shoes on now,” a rather deep and somewhat smooth voice broke through her thoughts. Tori looked up, her heart racing as she recognized it to be the same man she’d spoken to the night before.

He stood there, leaning casually against the wall, concern etched onto his face as he took in her teary state. Tori felt a mix of embarrassment as she swiftly wiped the tears from beneath her eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked cautiously.

His voice was gentle, almost a whisper as if he were afraid that speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile moment.

Tori took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she managed to say, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her. She avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the floor, where the glossy tiles reflected her dishevelled appearance.

“Doesn’t look like it,” he replied, stepping closer. He had an aura of sincerity that made her feel oddly safe, despite the turmoil raging inside her. “You can talk to me if you want. Or… I can just keep you company until you feel better. Your choice.”

A part of her wanted to retreat further into herself, to shut down and wallow in the emotions that had overwhelmed her. But another part, the part that craved connection, urged her to accept his offer.

She found herself nodding slowly, her heart beating a little faster as she glanced up at him.

“I'm locked out of my room, the man I'm with has my key, but I don't want to see him right now,” she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper as a single tear slipped from her eye.

“I don't think I'm in any place to give you relationship advice, but I might be able to help you get back into your room,” he smiled softly, looking past her beautiful, soft features to see a woman who was so obviously hurt.

“My phone is just down the hall in my suite, I can get it and have someone bring a replacement for you.” Tori felt a wave of gratitude wash over her at his suggestion. It was a simple offer, but it felt monumental at the moment. She nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, and managed a small smile.

“That would be nice, thank you.” She looked up at him, the kindness in his expression easing some of the tension coiling within her. “I’m Tori, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Tori. I’m Alex,” he said, extending his hand for a shake. His grip was firm yet warm, a stark contrast to the chill she felt lingering in her chest.

“Nice to meet you too,” she replied, feeling a bit more grounded. “I appreciate this. I didn’t mean to be a mess in the hallway.”

“Hey, everyone has their moments. You’re allowed to feel however you feel,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. “Let’s go grab my phone, and then we can figure this out.”

With a deep breath, Tori nodded again, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the emotions swirling inside of her. Following behind Alex, the heels of their shoes both clicked against the floors as she trailed behind him.

Tori knew this wasn't one of her brighter moments, but she pushed the thought aside as she followed Alex. Once they reached the end of the hall, he stopped, turning to look at Tori before stuffing his hand into his pocket to retrieve his room key.

“Here we are,” he said, inserting the key into the lock and pushing the door open. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of lamps casting a warm ambience that felt inviting. Tori hesitated at the threshold, feeling a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. “Come on in,” Alex encouraged, gesturing for her to enter. “I promise I won’t bite.”

Tori stepped inside, the plush carpet cushioning her feet as she took in the room. It was tastefully decorated, with modern furnishings and a view of the city skyline through the large window. She felt a momentary sense of calm wash over her, a stark contrast to the turmoil she had just experienced.

“Let me grab my phone,” Alex said, moving toward the small desk in the corner. Tori stood awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do with herself. She could hear the muffled sounds of the party still going on outside, laughter and music blending into a distant hum.

“Do you want some water or anything?” Alex asked, glancing back at her. “You look like you could use it.”

“Water would be great, thank you,” Tori replied, her voice steadier now. She watched as he moved to the mini-fridge, pulling out a bottle and handing it to her. Their fingers brushed briefly, sending a small jolt of electricity through her.

“For you,” he said, his smile warm and genuine. “Take your time. I’ll just grab my phone and make a quick call.”

Tori took a sip of the water, feeling the coolness soothe her parched throat. She leaned against the wall, allowing herself a moment to breathe and collect her thoughts. The earlier chaos felt like a distant memory, and Alex’s presence was surprisingly comforting.

As he dialled a number, she couldn’t help but observe him. There was something about his demeanour—calm, collected, and genuinely kind—that made her feel at ease. He seemed to have a way of cutting through the noise, grounding her in the moment.

“Hey, it’s me,” Alex said into the phone, his tone professional yet relaxed. “I need you to do me a favour. Can you bring a spare key to room 312? There’s a guest who’s locked out.” He paused, listening intently. “Yeah, thanks. I appreciate it.”

After hanging up, he turned back to Tori, a satisfied smile on his face. “All set. They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“Thank you so much,” Tori said, her heart swelling with gratitude. “I didn’t expect anyone to help me like this, you certainly didn't have to.”

“These places are kinda the family business, I have to give our guests a reason to want to return.”Tori chuckled softly, appreciating his lightheartedness.

“Family business?” she repeated.

“My father owns this hotel and a few others across Europe, however, this location and this specific view happens to be my favourite,” Alex explained softly as he unbuttoned his blazer, pulling it from his body so he could hang it over the back of a chair.

Tori's curiosity was piqued as she listened to him speak. “Wow, that’s impressive. I can see why you’d have a soft spot for it. The view is amazing.” She moved closer to the window, gazing out at the city lights glimmering like stars against the night sky.

“Yeah, it is,” Alex replied, joining her at the window. “There’s something about seeing the city from this height that makes you feel alive, don’t you think?”

Tori nodded, her previous insecurities momentarily forgotten as she shared this moment with him, a kind stranger. “It’s beautiful. It makes me feel…small in a good way if that makes sense.”

He turned to her, his expression thoughtful. “It makes perfect sense. Sometimes we need that perspective to realize that the things weighing us down don’t matter as much in the grand scheme of things.”

Tori glanced at him, surprised by the depth of his words. There was an unexpected wisdom in his demeanour, a maturity that went hand in hand with the poise and confidence that he exuded.

Downstairs, Jude found himself at the conclusion of an impromptu lap dance from a woman whose name he didn't know and who would likely slip from his memory just as quickly as she appeared.

The dimly lit room pulsated with a vibrant energy, the sounds of laughter and chatter blending with the pulsating beat of the music that filled the air.

As he slowly rose to his feet, a relaxed smile crept across his face, illuminated by the colourful lights that flickered around him. He scanned the crowd, searching for Tori amidst the lively crowd, ready to fall back into the bubble of intimacy they'd created for themselves.

But as he surveyed the room, an unsettling feeling settled in his stomach. Tori was nowhere to be found. The laughter and joy surrounding him felt hollow in her absence.

“Hey, Jude!” one of his teammates called out, clapping him on the back. “Are you ready for another drink?”

Jude forced a smile, but his mind was elsewhere. “Yeah, just give me a second,” he replied, stepping away from the group.

He made his way to the bar, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tori somewhere in the crowd, but it was as if she had vanished.

Reaching into his back pocket he pulled out his phone and quickly scrolled through his contacts, searching for Tori's number. His thumb hovered over her name, hesitating as thoughts raced through his mind.

He took a deep breath, shaking off the doubts. She deserved to know that he was looking for her, that he cared. He pressed the call button, heart pounding as he brought the phone to his ear.

The ringing sounded louder than the music, each tone a reminder of how much he needed her. But after the third ring, it went to voicemail and his stomach dropped.

Briskly making his way towards the exit of the sprawling hotel suite, Jude stepped into a long hallway, looking up and down to see if he spotted Tori.

The hallway was dimly lit, and the music from the party faded into a distant thrum behind him. Jude’s heart raced as he called out her name softly, “Tori?” The sound echoed back, swallowed by the silence surrounding him.

He pushed through the door leading to the entryway of the suite, scanning the bustling crowd for any sign of her. The laughter and chatter around him only amplified his sense of urgency and panic. Where could she have gone?

“Jude!” Eduardo approached, drink in hand, oblivious to the turmoil swirling in Jude’s mind. “You good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Have you seen Tori?” Jude asked, cutting him off. “She was right here earlier…” His voice trailed off as he gestured to the now-empty space beside him.

His teammate shrugged, glancing around. “I thought she was with you. The last time I saw her we were all watching you get a lap dance,” he smiled knowingly.

“Do you think that's why she left?” Jude asked, his heart sinking further. The thought that Tori might have felt humiliated or overshadowed by the spectacle gnawed at him.

Eduardo shook his head, a nonchalant frown replacing his smile. “I didn’t notice. But do you really care? There are so many girls here.”

Jude felt a blood-chilling wave wash over him, sending a sharp pang of sorrow through his heart for Tori. He recalled the unease flickering in her eyes when she told him she had overheard Eduardo's careless remark earlier that day.

Exiting the hotel room for a second time, Jude ignored the calls of his teammate as he made his way towards the elevator, checking his pocket to see if he still had her room key.

He felt a surge of determination. He had to find her and make sure she was okay. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside, pressing the button for her floor. As the elevator ascended, he ran through a mental checklist of where she might be.

The thought of her feeling abandoned or upset gnawed at him, and he cursed himself for not being more attentive.

When the doors opened, Jude rushed out, his heart pounding as he approached Tori's room. The hallway was quiet, and he felt a pang of dread settling in his chest. He knocked softly on her door but was met with silence.

“Tori?” he called, his voice strained with worry. He knocked again, louder this time, his impatience growing. Still, there was no response.

Just as he was about to give up hope, he heard the faint sound of laughter from down the hall. He turned to see her walking towards him accompanied by a woman dressed in the hotel's uniform, and another man he'd never seen before.

Tori looked a little more composed than she had before, but the light in her eyes seemed dimmed. Jude's heart raced as he took in the scene. She was smiling, but it didn't reach her eyes, and that made him uneasy. The man beside her had an easy, confident demeanor, and the sight of him standing close to Tori made a knot form in Jude's stomach.

“Tori!” he called, stepping closer, his voice cutting through the murmur of the hallway. She turned at the sound of his voice, and for a brief moment, their eyes locked.

“Jude,” she replied, a hint of surprise in her tone. The man beside her glanced between the two of them, clearly assessing the situation. It went to the out saying he knew exactly who Jude was, it was seldom that a man of his stature went unnoticed.

“Everything okay?” Jude asked, his eyes darting to Tori’s face, searching for any signs of distress. He felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him as he noticed the way the stranger stood close, his presence a stark contrast to the vulnerability Tori had shown before.

“Yeah, just… waiting for a spare key,” Tori said, her voice steadying as she gestured toward the hotel staff member beside her. “This is Alex. He was helping me out.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jude said, offering a quick, rather dismissive nod, though he couldn’t shake the feeling of jealousy creeping into his chest. “I was looking for her. I didn’t know where she went.”

Alex stepped forward slightly, his demeanor calm and collected. “Tori was feeling a little upset and overwhelmed at whatever happened between you, so I offered to help her get back into her room. We’ve been waiting for the spare key to arrive.”

“I’ve got it from here,” Jude interjected, the words slipping out before he could think them through. The tension in the air thickened as he shot a glance at Alex, his expression stern. “Tori, are you okay?”

Tori hesitated, the warmth of Alex’s presence fading as she turned her gaze between the two men. “I’m okay, really. I was upset and Alex was just being nice. I didn’t want to go back to the party, that’s all.”

Jude’s heart sank at her words. “You shouldn’t have had to feel that way in the first place. I’m sorry for how things went down back there.” His voice softened as he looked directly into her eyes, hoping to convey his sincerity.

Tori felt a mix of emotions swirling within her as she met Jude's earnest gaze. His apology hit her like a wave, and she could see the concern etched on his face. It was a stark contrast to the chaotic scene she had just escaped from.

“Jude, it’s not just about tonight,” she said, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to explain. “I guess I just feel…”

“Can we talk about this somewhere more private?” Jude asked, growing annoyed with the presence of Tori’s new friend Alex.

Tori nodded, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on her. “Yeah, of course,” she replied, her heart racing as she glanced at Alex, who seemed to sense the shift in the air.

“Thanks for your help, Alex,” Jude said, his tone more clipped than he intended. “I think we’re good from here.”

Alex raised an eyebrow but nodded in understanding. “No problem. I hope everything works out for you both,” he said, giving Tori a reassuring smile before stepping back.

As the hotel staff member approached with the spare key, Tori accepted it with a murmured thanks, her mind racing. She turned to Jude, who was already watching her intently, concern etched deep in his features.

“Let’s go inside,” she suggested, unlocking the door and stepping into her room. The moment they were alone, Tori felt the familiar sense of safety wash over her, but it was tinged with uncertainty as she faced Jude.

He closed the door behind them, and they stood in the dimly lit room, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. Tori felt a rush of emotions—relief, anxiety, and a flicker of hope that they could navigate through this together.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jude asked, his voice low and filled with concern as he took a step closer to her. “I saw you with Alex, and I wasn’t sure what to think.”

Tori took a breath, trying to gather her thoughts. “I was feeling overwhelmed, Jude. I didn’t expect to see you with someone else so… carefree. I guess I let my insecurities get the best of me tonight.”

Jude’s expression softened as he processed her words. “I had no idea that you felt that way, Tori. I should have checked in with you. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable or overlooked.”

Tori shook her head, her heart racing at the vulnerability they were sharing. “It’s not just you. It’s me too. I’ve been struggling with my own feelings, and seeing you surrounded by so many people, all of them drawn to you… I felt small and out of place.”

Jude’s heart ached at her confession, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He never intended for Tori to feel that way, and the thought of her feeling isolated in a crowd made his stomach churn. “I never wanted you to feel that way. You’re not small, Tori. You’re incredible, and I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise,” he said earnestly, stepping closer to her.

Tori glanced up, searching his eyes for sincerity. “It’s just… this is your world, I may have been naive to think I could fit in so easily. I like being around you, but sometimes it feels like I’m an outsider looking in.”

Jude shook his head at her words. “Tori, you belong here. You belong with me,” he said firmly, taking another step closer, closing the distance between them.

“It’s not about the parties or the crowd, or who I am to everyone else; it’s about us. I care about you, and I want you to feel comfortable being around me, no matter where we are.” he continued.

“What if I don't know how to be?”

#jude bellingham smut #fanfic #jude bellingham #chick lit #jude bellingham imagine #real madrid #jude bellingham fanfic #jude victor willliam bellingham #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagines #jobe bellingham #kylian mbappe #eduardo camavinga #smut #jb5

112 notes · View notes

shybluebirdninja · 1 day ago

Text

Bloodheat

Summary: His rough, feral mouth trails lower, and suddenly every vow you made to your husband burns away in the heat of Logan's desire.

Pairing : Logan Howlett x Fem!Human-reader

Note : Infidelity and cheating, cunnilingus, smut

The night air is thick, the kind that wraps around you like a heavy blanket, sticky and humid. The rumble of Logan's beat-up truck is the only sound cutting through the silence as he pulls off the road, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The cabin of the truck feels too small, too intimate, and your heart pounds louder than it should. You know this is wrong—so wrong—but fuck, the second Logan's hand brushes your thigh, all that guilt slips away like water through your fingers.

You glance over at him, his jaw set, eyes focused on the dark road ahead. There's something raw about Logan—something feral. His beard’s a little rougher tonight, and those strong hands gripping the wheel send a shiver down your spine. There’s no room for doubt, not anymore. You knew what you were doing when you climbed into his truck. You knew this wasn’t just a casual drive.

His voice breaks the silence, low and gravely, sending heat straight between your legs. “You wanna keep playin' house with him, or you gonna admit you’re already mine?”

That damn voice. It’s like whiskey and smoke, rich and dangerous. You don’t answer, but your body does, leaning closer, like it’s instinctual, like it’s always been him. Logan’s hand drifts higher on your thigh, his fingers rough and calloused, and you can’t stop the soft gasp that slips out.

He chuckles, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, and pulls the truck to a stop. The engine cuts off, leaving only the heavy sound of your breathing in the cab. His eyes meet yours, that familiar heat simmering just beneath the surface. “You got somethin’ to say, darlin’?”

You bite your lip, torn between the voice in your head telling you to run and the heat pooling low in your belly, making your skin buzz with anticipation. “Logan, this—” You try to speak, but he cuts you off with a rough, demanding kiss.

It’s not gentle. Nothing about Logan ever is. His lips crash into yours, a fierce hunger behind every move. His hands are everywhere at once, sliding over your waist, gripping your hips. It’s wild, untamed, and fuck, it’s everything you’ve been craving for weeks.

The guilt melts away, replaced by that electric fire he ignites in you every time he gets close. You kiss him back just as hard, fingers threading through his thick, dark hair, tugging him closer. You can feel the low growl vibrating in his chest as he pulls you onto his lap, his big hands sliding under your shirt, calloused fingers rough against your bare skin. Every nerve in your body is alive, buzzing with need.

Logan’s mouth moves from your lips to your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. He bites down just enough to leave a mark, and you gasp, arching into him. “Fuckin’ missed you,” he mutters against your skin, voice thick with need.

Your hands fumble with the button on his jeans, desperate, but Logan grabs your wrists, holding them still. “Not yet,” he growls, his eyes dark and dangerous, pupils blown wide. “I got plans for you first.”

Before you can process his words, he’s sliding you off his lap, pushing you back onto the worn leather seat. His hands are on your jeans, undoing the button and yanking them down in one smooth motion. The air hits your skin, cool against the heat radiating from your body, but that’s the last thing on your mind when Logan settles between your legs, pulling you closer with that trademark Wolverine smirk on his lips.

He spreads your thighs wide, eyes locked on yours, and the way he’s looking at you—like he’s about to devour you whole—sends a shiver of anticipation through you. There’s nothing rushed about the way he leans in, taking his sweet time, letting you feel every second of his lips ghosting over your skin. “You taste so fuckin’ good, y’know that?”

Your breath hitches as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, so close to where you want him, but not close enough. “Logan, please…” The words fall from your lips before you can stop them, need dripping from every syllable.

He grins against your skin, rough and teasing. “Beggin’ already?” He lets out a low chuckle, then finally—finally—his mouth is on you. His tongue flicks out, slow and torturous, and your back arches off the seat as pleasure floods your body. It’s like he’s claiming you with every lick, every pull of his lips around your clit, and it’s so fucking good you can’t think straight.

His beard is rough against your inner thighs, rubbing deliciously against your skin as he works you over with his mouth. You can’t stop the soft moans escaping your lips, can’t stop your fingers from tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Logan groans against you, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through your whole body.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your hips bucking up against his mouth, but Logan grips your thighs, holding you down with that impossible strength of his. His tongue moves faster now, flicking and sucking, and the tension inside you coils tighter and tighter, ready to snap.

It’s too much, too good. “Logan, I—” You can’t get the words out, and he knows exactly what you need. He sucks hard on your clit, and that’s it—you’re gone, your whole body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

The pleasure hits you like a freight train, intense and overwhelming, and you feel yourself gush, the slick wetness covering Logan’s mouth and beard. But he doesn’t stop. He keeps licking, keeps sucking, drinking up every drop like he’s starving for it, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin. You whimper, overstimulated, but he just smirks, beard soaked and glistening in the dim light of the truck.

“Damn, you taste even better when you’re comin’ all over my face,” he growls, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, but the glint in his eyes tells you he’s far from done. He leans back, eyes raking over your still-trembling body, and the hunger in his gaze makes your breath catch. “Think you got another one in you, darlin’? 'Cause I ain’t done with you yet.”

You can only nod, the words lost somewhere between the lingering pleasure and the heat building inside you all over again. Logan’s already got you addicted, and you know you’ll never be able to go back.

93 notes · View notes

f1ora1f1owerswrites · 2 days ago

Text

little things

Summary: the small things that Jake does that differentiate him from "Hangman."

Warnings: NO use of y/n, she/her mentioned, established relationship

Word Count: 687

a/n: i really really love this one, i tried my best to capture my perception of jake! i hope you like it! :) reblogs, likes, and comments always appreciated <3.

***

Most people knew Jake as Hangman—cocky, confident, and never without a sarcastic quip ready for whatever challenge the world threw at him. In the skies, he was fearless, always a playful grin on his face. His reputation as an aviator was built on confidence, sharp skill, and an ego that matched his abilities. But, at home, when the door to your shared apartment clicked shut behind him, he was different. He was just Jake.

You had seen sides of him that the world never would. The small, tender things he did that no one could know but you. The things that made your heart swell without him ever realizing it.

It started with the little details—like when you came home after a long day and, no matter how tired and sore he was, he’d have dinner ready. It wasn’t some gourmet meal, just simple comfort food, but it was always exactly what you needed. As you walked through the door, you could smell it, the warmth of his effort filling the space before you even saw him.

“You’re late,” he’d joke, tossing you a mischievous grin over his shoulder as he stirred something in a pot. “Were you avoiding me again?”

“You know I’m not avoiding you, Seresin,” you’d say, crossing the room to wrap your arms around his waist. “Just had a long day.”

And there it was—the subtle shift. His hands would rest over yours for a moment before he’d lean back against you, taking a deep breath, like he was the one who needed this moment of calm, just as much as you did.

After dinner, when you’d lounge on the couch, he’d make sure to throw a blanket over you, even if it was just to watch TV or scroll through your phone. He wasn’t the type to show vulnerability in front of anyone else, but at home, there was a softness to him. Sometimes, when you reached for the remote, he’d catch your hand, fingers warm and steady. Without a word, he’d flip it to your favorite show—sometimes the same one you’d been watching all week—and lean back, content in the silence.

***

It wasn’t just the big gestures that made you fall deeper for him; it was the moments no one else would see.

Or when you had a bad day, his way of comforting you wasn’t through words. Instead, he’d just pull you into his arms, his large hands brushing through your hair, holding you close until the tension melted from your shoulders. Sometimes he didn’t say a thing, just held you, knowing that was all you needed.

He’d get you a drink from your favorite place on his way home, he would grab your favorite snacks from the store without you asking, or leave notes on the bathroom mirror, small messages reminding you to have a good day or to take care of yourself. You never even had to ask for these things. They were just a part of him—quiet acts of love and care that made you realize how lucky you were to have him.

And even though he would always say it in a teasing way, there was no mistaking how much he meant it when he said, “I got your back, always.”

You could see it, in the way he’d lean over the counter when you were trying to figure out your day, his forehead furrowed in concentration, always making sure you had everything you needed, even when he was buried (sometimes suffocating) in his own responsibilities.

At home, Jake wasn’t Hangman. He wasn’t the confident, cocky aviator who ruled the skies. He was the man who tucked you into bed after a long day, who made sure your water bottle was filled before you fell asleep, who laughed at your jokes even when they were corny. And in those moments, when the world felt like too much, you knew you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

Because with Jake, it was the little things that made everything feel right.

#florawrites #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader

129 notes · View notes

stellamarielu · 3 days ago

Text

declan o'hara headcannons

what i think it would be like to date everyone’s favorite dilf nsfw under the cut!

declan may come across as temperamental and a bit of an asshole but when it comes to you, he is nothing but a lovesick fool

he’s so giddy around you, all smiley and dopey in your presence. he would be embarrassed if it wasn’t for the complete and utter addiction to you that took over ever fiber of his being

declan likes to keep your relationship pretty private but will show you off to the people closest to him, always having you over for dinner with his daughters. you get along with them so well caitlin even threatens to kick him out so the three of you can have a girls night

he was so sweet to you, so gentle and affectionate

the king of placing tender kisses on your temple or the top of your head

he wants to do everything for you, every little task and chore

he never lets you lift a finger, always knowing your next step before you take it and doing everything in his power to take care of you

his love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch

declan adores the way you care for him, always giving him compliments and reassurance

at first he didn’t know how to feel, no one had ever really appreciated him so outwardly before. but as time went on, he found himself looking for your praises and basking in the feeling of being admired

declan was a touch starved man (before he met you that is) and oh boy did he live for your touch

he wouldn't be a huge fan of pda due to the private nature of your relationship, but sometimes he couldn't help himself

he loved holding your hand, your fingers so delicately intertwined with the roughness of his. a seemingly simple connection, but he could always feel the love radiating from the warmth of your palm. not to mention he enjoyed being able to draw you closer with a single tug of your hand.

while public displays of affection weren’t his thing, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you behind closed doors.

this man is a filthy kinky bastard, you cannot convince me otherwise

he’s obsessed with the way your body feels in his hands; roaming, gripping, grabbing, and holding you at all times

he wouldn’t be afraid to manhandle you a little– holding your hair back in his fist while you’re on your knees for him, yanking it and guiding you exactly where he wants you

he would be absolutely feral at the sight of you on your knees below him. not used to having someone pay attention to him in that way, declan would nearly whimper every time you took him between your soft pink lips

declan is a certified munch!!

spreading your legs and making a mess between them was his favorite pastime

that man would eat you for breakfast lunch and dinner if he could

he 1000% gets off on your pleasure

and he reallyyy gets off on watching you get all needy for him– he’ll all but beg you to grind on his thigh just to feel how wet and desperate you are for him

will literally dirty talk you into the ground with that thick irish accent

“my good girl” and “my sweet girl” are used very often

has definitely called you a brat in the bedroom and will definitely do it again

he has a super intimate side too

he’s very big on eye contact, wanting to share more than just a physical connection with you, he wants your time together to be passionate and deep– meaningful

he loves to feel your bare body against his. no matter the position, he’s always pulling you further into him with a need to feel your bodies melt together

he’s such a softie, he loves a good cuddle

he’ll fall asleep in .5 seconds though

i’m talking as soon as his head hits the pillow it’s lights out

but not before he can draw you into his broad chest, using the comfort of your presence to lull him into a deep slumber

my masterlist

#declan o'hara #declan o'hara x reader #rivals fanfiction #declan o’hara smut #rivals #rivals x reader #aidan turner #rupert campbell black #declan o’hara headcannons #rival headcannons #smut headcanons #dilf x reader

71 notes · View notes

romerona · 3 days ago

Text

All Y/N ever wanted to do was sing her songs and be free. Yet somehow, after offering to pay for the meal of a certain boy in a straw hat she finds herself causing havoc through the East Blue.

Masterlist - Next.

Trigger warning: canon violence. Word count: 10K

A/N: The only thing I will be describing about Y/N is her hair colour. Everything else you can imagine her as you wish.

Disclaimer: The songs I will be using in this fic aren't mine bc I have 0 creativity. I'm sorry.

If you want to know, what the melody of this chapter song is like, The River by Daisy Jones and the Six is the inspiration.

"Hit the deck!"

Y/N barely had a moment to brace herself before the thunderous explosion erupted across the deck of the Going Merry. The cannonball struck with a force that rattled her bones, the shockwave sending her sprawling as she dropped to the floor, clutching her head. The wood of the railing splintered and cracked under the impact, filling the air with the sharp scent of burning timber and saltwater. Pieces of the ship’s railing exploded outward, shards of wood spinning through the air like deadly projectiles. She flinched as one of the splinters sliced across her cheek, leaving a warm trickle of blood in its wake.

Disoriented, she felt the world tilt and sway as the ship rocked from the blast, and she struggled to get her bearings. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up on trembling legs.

"Everybody okay?" Luffy asked, his voice carrying over the chaos, unshaken by the cannon fire.

"I think so," Nami replied, her breath coming out a bit shaky.

Y/N wiped the blood from her cheek. "Define ‘okay.’ If it means mildly traumatized but still standing, then yeah, I'm peachy."

Usopp, on the other hand, looked like he’d just seen his life flash before his eyes. "No! Not okay! Not even close to okay!"

Luffy barely glanced at him before turning to the Marine ship in the distance, his finger pointing toward the enemy vessel with a gleam in his eye. "Usopp, fire back at them!"

Usopp’s eyes widened in horror, and he shook his head, his voice pitching. "Or, how about we sail away as fast as we can?"

Y/N nodded, jumping on Usopp’s idea immediately, "Now, that sounds like a solid plan. Strategic retreat, y’know? Let’s live to panic another day!"

Luffy looked between them, clearly baffled like they’d just suggested something completely outlandish. "Run from the Marines? No. Never! Nami, trim the… the sail thing."

"Let’s sink their ship," Luffy told Ussop who had made his way next to the straw hat boy, and both started to prepare the cannon.

Y/N's eyes widened, and she shot a desperate glance at Nami. “Are you hearing this insanity? Oh, shi- look at them!”

Nami spared her a look, it was obvious her patience was wearing thin as she glared at Luffy. "We don’t have time. They’re stealing our wind. If they pull up alongside us, we’re finished."

"You’re the navigator," Luffy said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, while he and Usopp continued their preparations. "Do something."

Nami, fighting to keep her composure, took a deep breath. Her eyes flashed to Zoro and then to Y/N, as if by instinct, as she ordained, "Sheet in and hard to port!"

Y/N, groaning in defeat, moved toward the ropes. “Fantastic. Nothing like outrunning doom while trying not to strangle myself with these ropes.”

"Which way is port?" Zoro asked, his brow furrowed in confusion, making Y/N stop in her tracks and give him a look that could melt steel.

She nearly burst into tears right then and there.

“It’s on your left, Zoro!” she exclaimed, grabbing his arm and hauling him toward the ropes. “You do know left from right… don’t you? Is important to me that you know that.”

Zoro didn’t even bother to answer, letting Y/N pull him along as they hurried to execute Nami’s orders. But before they could even begin to unravel the ropes, the unmistakable sound of cannonballs rolling across the deck made them freeze.

For a beat, Y/N just stared at the incoming cannonballs as they tumbled to her feet. Her mind was blank and her gut twisting into knots. Then she pursed her lips, nodding slowly. "We're fucked."

Suddenly, a deep, booming voice of the vice admiral rang out across the open sea, slicing through the chaos like a hot knife through butter.

"Pirate vessel, by order of the Marines, lower your sails and submit to my authority."

Y/N’s body froze at the sound of the vice admiral’s booming voice. It pierced the chaos around her, and for a brief, suffocating moment, everything else disappeared. Her heart skipped a beat as a familiar, overwhelming sense of dread flooded her chest. Her breath caught, shallow and rapid, as memories—unbidden and sharp—began to surface like a nightmare she couldn’t outrun.

Flashes of her childhood flooded her vision: Marines with their cold faces set in determination as they hunted down her people. The cries of her father, the way he had fought to protect her, only to be torn away. Her small hands, gripped her father’s as they fled, knowing too well that escape was never truly an option. She could still feel the harsh net, still hear their voices—shouting commands, laughing as they dragged her father to his death. Her father... she could almost feel the warmth of his hand slipping from hers as he pleaded for her to take her sister and swim away.

A chill ran down her spine, and Y/N’s vision began to blur, the salty air thick in her lungs. The tightness in her chest grew, each breath more difficult to take. Her hands trembled, and she felt like she was back there, trapped in that terrified little girl’s body again, powerless and afraid. Her body was screaming at her to flee, to jump off the ship and swim far away, away from the threat of the Marines. But that was the panic talking. That was the fear, the survivor’s instinct, clawing at her.

No. Don’t be that scared child again. You’re not her anymore.

But the weight of the vice admiral’s words felt suffocating, like a trap closing in around her. The fear was real, deep-rooted, and it pressed against her chest like an iron band. Her mind screamed at her to run, to escape, but her body refused to obey. She wasn’t sure if it was fear or the crushing weight of the past that kept her frozen in place. All she could do was fight the urge to break down, to fall apart right then and there. The panic, the memories—they were all crashing into her at once, and there was nothing she could do to push them away.

Every muscle in her body tensed, her throat constricted, and all she could do was cling to the edge of the ship until the loud shout of Luffy broke her haze.

"Never!" His voice carried across the water with unmatched conviction and defiance.

From the Marine vessel, the vice admiral stepped forward with surprising agility for his age, his steely eyes narrowing as he grabbed one of the heavy cannonballs.

With a grunt that could’ve been heard a mile away, the old marine hurled the cannonball with a surprising amount of strength, sending it rocketing through the air toward the Going Merry. The cannonball cut through the wind, heading straight for them with deadly accuracy. For a moment, Y/N froze, watching the projectile fly toward them, her heart in her throat. This is it, she thought. I'm dead.

But before she could even fully process it, Luffy, with a sudden lurch, made his stomach expand to ridiculous proportions, ballooning out until he looked like he was going to burst. The cannonball collided with his belly with a dull thud, bouncing harmlessly off him before it ricocheted off Luffy’s rubbery body and hurtled back toward the Marine ship. Y/N’s eyes widened as it made its way back to them, and with a sickening crash, it collided directly with one of the mastiffs on the Marine ship, knocking it down with a loud crash.

For a moment, Y/N could only blink, stunned into silence. Then, she exhaled slowly, her breath coming out in a soft whoosh. “How the hell...?”

"That was amazing!" Usopp exclaimed, his face lighting up with awe. "You saved us, Luffy!"

Nami, still catching her breath, gave Luffy an incredulous look. "You didn’t tell me you could do that,"

"I didn’t know I could!" Luffy admitted, right before Usopp lunged at him, wrapping him in a hug laughing and bouncing around in a strange mix of relief and victory.

“Good going, Stud!” Y/N let out an airy chuckle, the sound of it light and almost free as she finally allowed the tension to slip away, watching them celebrate their unlikely victory. She leaned against the railing, her body trembling ever so slightly as she realized how close she’d been to falling apart. The adrenaline was wearing off, and she could feel her legs threaten to give way beneath her. She closed her eyes, pressing her palms against the cool wood, taking a slow, steadying breath, taking in the scent of the sea.

“Nami, get us out of here!” Luffy called to Nami.

“On it. Let’s disappear,” Nami replied, her voice laced with determination as she took control, hands steady on the wheel.

With a swift pull, she guided the Going Merry into position, adjusting the sails to catch what little wind they had left. The ship surged forward, slicing through the waves as if it were as eager to escape as they were and headed into a misty, thick and impenetrable cloud, like a veil hiding them from the Marines.

“Hey,” came Zoro’s monotone voice, causing Y/N to flinch just a little. It was subtle, but she couldn’t hide the sharp jolt in her chest. Embarrassed, she quickly masked her discomfort, forcing a wide, confident smile as if nothing was wrong.

“Oh, Zoro, hey,” she said, her voice smooth but her heart still racing slightly.

Zoro’s eyes remained as indifferent as ever, but they narrowed just a fraction, the skepticism in them barely perceptible.

“You good?” he asked, his tone flat, but there was a hint of concern buried beneath the surface.

Y/N froze for a moment, caught off guard by his directness. She flashed him a playful smirk, hoping to deflect without showing any sign of vulnerability. “Worried about little ol’ me, hot shot? Didn’t think you had a sweet side."

Zoro’s expression didn’t change, but whatever trace of concern had been there moments ago was now gone. Y/N, half-expecting him to leave her be—because, honestly, he wasn’t exactly known for his warm and fuzzy bedside manner—thought her flippant attitude would have been enough to successfully send him packing. Yet, to her surprise (and slight dismay), he stayed. He simply crossed his arms and stared at her with that unreadable intensity.

Y/N’s smirk faltered, the confidence she wore like armor wavering under the weight of his unrelenting stare. There was something unnerving about how much attention he was paying to her but refused to let it show fully. Instead, she waved a hand dismissively, her voice light and playful. “Do not fret, it’s just a scratch. My face will be back to its former glory in no time.”

Zoro didn’t even blink. “That’s not what I’m talking about,”

But Y/N did—several times, rapid and involuntary, her mind faltering as his words struck a nerve she wasn’t ready to face. The tightness in her chest flared again, and she fought to push away the remnants of panic still twisting in her gut. It was relentless, simmering just beneath the surface, refusing to let go. The memories clawed at her mind—the sight of those Marines, the booming voice of authority—it all came rushing back too fast, too vividly, too... loud.

Her smirk faltered, morphing into something softer, a practised smile. She had perfected this act over the years. No one could know. No one could see how much of her was still haunted, how much of her was a cracked foundation barely held together by sheer will.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Zoro,” she said lightly, tilting her head just enough to feign nonchalance. “I’m fine. Really.”

And without waiting for an answer or even a flicker of something that could resemble an expression, she manoeuvred around him. Her smile remained firmly in place, but her pace quickened as she walked away, leaving Zoro standing there. She made her way to Nami, positioning herself beside her as though nothing had happened, knowing the proximity to the pretty navigator would steady her fraying nerves. Like her steady rock.

Soon, the Going Merry was swallowed by the dense mist, the fog thick and impenetrable, wrapping around them like a heavy shroud. The usual brightness of the open sea was replaced by an eerie stillness, the world around them muffled and grey. No one could see more than a few feet in any direction.

"How’s the ship look?" Nami asked, her voice cutting through the silence when she saw the swordsman return from checking the damage.

"Broken railing. Minor damage," Zoro said as she set herself next to her.

Y/N hums in encorgament. "Could've been worse."

"Could’ve been better," Nami muttered, her tone sour.

Usopp squinted into the dense fog, searching for any sign of the Marines. "Can’t see the Marines anywhere,"

Y/N glanced over the side of the ship, also squinting into the dense fog. "Can't see anything at all, I think you mean."

"What we need is a place to lay low and wait out any reinforcements they send after us," Nami said, her voice already tinged with frustration as she glanced down at the map in her hands. "But my charts are useless in this fog."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her tone dry. "Great. So we’re basically sailing blind."

"What did Luffy say?" Zoro wondered aloud.

Usopp, squinting through the fog, replied, "He’s on the bow. He hasn’t said anything since we hightailed it out of there."

"Well, somebody needs to talk to him. About this and that other thing." Nami’s voice was laced with frustration as she turned to the others, clearly not thrilled with the situation.

"What other thing?" Zoro asked, confusion flickering across his face.

Y/N shot him a look—a mix of disbelief and exasperation, her expression practically screaming "Seriously?" She wondered how could someone be so perceptive and yet be as oblivious as a plank. For a fleeting moment, she even wondered if his cluelessness was some sort of elaborate act.

"Oh, gee, I wonder," Nami replied, her voice thick with dry sarcasm before she deadpanned. "The vice-admiral-of-the-Marines-is-my-grandfather thing."

Y/N pursed her lips, a mixture of emotions swirling inside her—understanding, skepticism, fear, and anger. The fear and anger tried to take root, but ultimately, understanding won out, its shadow softening the rest.

"Oh, that," Usopp said, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Yeah, I don’t really know the guy that well…"

Y/N sighed, crossing her arms as she turned to Nami. "And let’s think that maybe there’s a reason why he didn’t tell us," she said, her voice measured, though the tension behind it was undeniable.

Nami shot her a look, her eyes narrowing in a way that could only mean she wasn’t buying it. "But he should’ve. This is something that affects all of us."

Zoro grunted, rolling his eyes. "Doesn’t seem like a big deal."

"You’re his first mate," Nami shot back, rolling her eyes. "Kind of seems like that falls under your job description, hmm?"

"Fine," he muttered, clearly not thrilled about it.

It took all of five seconds—barely enough time to blink—before he turned right back around and rejoined them. Y/N raised a brow, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement. Now this was the Zoro she knew—the one who avoided digging deeper into anything if it required more than minimal effort. The other unsettling attentive version of him she’d dealt with earlier? Long gone.

“He seems fine to me,” Zoro said flatly, as though that was the final word on the matter.

"Did you even ask him?" Nami asks in exasperation.

“Hey!” Luffy suddenly called out, his voice cutting through their conversation and pulling everyone’s attention to him. The group turned to see him standing at the bow, sniffing the air like a bloodhound on a trail. His face was unusually focused, which immediately made Y/N sceptical. “You guys smell that?”

Y/N’s curiosity got the better of her. She hesitated, then took a subtle sniff, her brows knitting together when she couldn’t pick up anything out of the ordinary. “Smell what?

“There’s something on the breeze,” Luffy said, his voice uncharacteristically serious as he sniffed again. “Smells like… butter... Soy sauce... And meat.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, sharing a look with the others, searching for a second opinion. “That’s… oddly specific,”

Usopp, still looking around in confusion, squinted at the air. "I can’t smell anything,"

"Think he has brain damage?" Zoro muttered under his breath, watching Luffy sniff the air like a hound on a scent trail.

Nami sighed heavily, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "I think that every day."

Usopp, ever the voice of reason- or what passed for it to everyone else- said. "Look, Luffy, playing follow the smell is fun and all, but we really gotta get out of this fog. We’re sitting ducks in here."

"I know, but I smell food, which means there’s someone somewhere cooking!" Luffy reasoned, as if that simple fact somehow made perfect sense to him. He was grinning ear-to-ear, oblivious to the crew's growing frustration.

“Seriously?” Nami groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose before throwing her hands up in defeat. “Of course it’s about food.”

Y/N pursed her lips, her gaze shifting between the thick fog and Luffy’s eager, determined expression. She let out a small sigh and turned to Nami with a shrug. “Hey, it’s better than wandering aimlessly, right? At least his nose has a purpose.”

Nami muttered something under her breath about “purposefully leading us into trouble” but threw her hands up as she headed back to the helm. “Fine, whatever- just tell me where to go."

"Five degrees starboard!" Luffy shouted confidently, settling himself on the lamb’s head like it was some kind of throne. He sniffed the air once more, brow furrowing. "No! No! Three degrees back to port."

"Add food to the equation and suddenly he knows how to navigate."

Y/N, who had been bored staring into the mist, suddenly perked up as she caught sight of something faint, something slowly beginning to take shape. She squinted, her curiosity piqued. "What is that?"

“Add food to the equation, and suddenly he knows how to navigate,” Nami muttered under his breath, earning a soft chuckle from Y/N.

Y/N, who had been idly staring into the mist with growing boredom, suddenly straightened as her eyes caught sight of something faint—something slowly taking shape ahead of them. She squinted, her curiosity sparking. “What is that?”

“Is that land?” Zoro asked, his voice tinged with skepticism as he strained to make out the blurry outline in the distance.

Nami frowned, her brow furrowing in concentration. “It can’t be. There aren’t any islands anywhere near here.”

“What’s a… Baratie?” Usopp asked, his voice a mix of confusion and awe as he read the glowing red letters that seemed to hover like a lighthouse through the mist.

The crew fell silent as the shape came into sharper focus, the mist parting just enough to reveal something massive—a grand, almost otherworldly ship. Its design was like nothing they’d ever seen, whimsical and imposing all at once.

“Is that… a fish boat?” Y/N murmured, her eyes widening as she took in the strange structure. It wasn’t just a ship; it was a spectacle.

The ship continued to take shape, now unmistakably resembling a gigantic wooden fish, complete with intricately carved fins and a tail that seemed almost alive in its fluid design. Y/N’s eyes wandered to the collection of ships docked along its sides, their masts swaying gently with the movement of the water. The group stood in stunned silence, the sheer scale and craftsmanship of the structure leaving them momentarily speechless.

As the Going Merry docked alongside the Baratie, the eerie, solitary impression they had from afar melted away, replaced by a vibrant, bustling scene. The docks were alive with movement and sound. Sailors worked with practiced ease, tying ropes and securing their ships. Merchants were unloading crates filled with who-knew-what, their voices rising above the clatter of goods hitting the dock.

The air carried the faint aroma of sizzling food mixed with sea salt, teasing Y/N’s senses as she caught hints of laughter and animated chatter drifting from the fish-shaped structure itself. What once seemed mysterious and isolated now felt impossibly alive, like the heart of some hidden, seafaring world. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe—and a twinge of curiosity—at the liveliness surrounding them.

As the crew gathered on the deck and observed the bustling activity around the fish-shaped ship.

"Everyone's heading to that fish ship," Zoro remarked, curiosity evident in his tone.

Y/N, leaned over the railing, her awe evident as she stared at the grand fish-shaped vessel below. “It’s huge,”

“That smell,” Nami said thoughtfully, a small hum escaping her lips as the aroma of sizzling food reached her. “I think this place is a restaurant.”

"Then I know what we're gonna do next," Luffy declared, his eyes lit up with excitement.

Nami interjected, "Disguise the ship so the Marines can't find us?"

Y/N nodded in agreement. "That's a good idea."

"Sail back to Syrup Village, where it's safe?" Usopp offered, his tone equally hopeful, clutching at the last thread of safety.

But Luffy, grinning from ear to ear, announced, "Nah, let's eat!"

He turned on his heel and made to bolt toward the docks, but Y/N was faster. She grabbed his elbow, stopping him in his tracks. “Luffy, wait. We can't go in-"

Luffy turned to her, his grin faltering into a slight frown, his confusion evident as he leaned closer, their faces almost touching. “What? Why not? It’s right there—all we have to do is walk in.”

“Sure, we can,” Y/N began, her eyes flicking down to his less-than-impressive attire with a small, knowing smirk. “But not dressed like this.”

Luffy blinked, his confusion deepening.

“You’re handsome, stud, and yeah, you’ve got charm." Y/N said, patting his arm playfully, “But trust me, as a former waitress, there are places where you have to look the part. And I can tell this is one of them.”

She gestured toward the lively crowd below, some of whom were dressed a little better than the ragtag crew of the Going Merry. Luffy frowned, glancing down at himself as if only now realizing his outfit wasn’t exactly fine dining material.

“So... we’re dressing up to eat?” he asked, clearly baffled.

“Exactly,” Y/N said, smiling at his adorable cluelessness. “And trust me, it’s gonna be worth it.”

Luffy stared at her for a beat before finally shrugging, his grin returning. “Okay! As long as we get to eat after!”

"That fish better have a bar," Zoro mutters as they all make their way to their room for a scrub and a change.

Y/N slipped into a dress that felt just right for the occasion—simple, but with just enough flair to make it special. The fitted top was decorated with delicate floral embroidery that gave it a soft, romantic feel, while the flowing skirt had an uneven, handkerchief hemline that added a touch of fun. The thin straps made it feel light and easy, perfect for the moment. It was the kind of dress that hugged her in all the right places but still felt comfortable, striking that perfect balance between casual and a little bit sexy.

Y/N smirked as she caught her reflection in the mirror, tilting her head to admire her handiwork. Her white, silver hair was styled into a loose, effortless updo, with a few soft strands artfully framing her face, giving her that perfect mix of elegance and I woke up like this charm. A touch of makeup—just enough to highlight her natural features—brought the whole look together: a faint blush on her cheeks, a sleek wing of eyeliner, and a hint of gloss that made her lips look positively kissable.

“Well, don’t I just look like a walking snack,” she quipped, turning to admire the sway of the dress. “Kaya’s got taste, I’ll give her that. I owe her at least three thank-you calls and a bottle of wine.”

With that, she spun on her heel, ready to turn heads.

“You all deeply disappoint me,” Y/N announced dramatically as she joined the others, her eyes scanning their outfits with a look of sheer disapproval. Their clothes were better than before, sure, but it was painfully obvious that she was the only one who had truly put in any effort. She placed a hand on her hip, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“Tragic. All of you,” she added with a flourish, her tone dripping with mock indignation, before muttering under her breath, “I can’t believe I have to carry this entire group's sense of style on my back.”

Luffy and Usopp glanced down at their outfits, their frowns deepening. Luffy was wearing a red shirt and overalls—like he’d just walked off a farm—and Usopp had decided to rock pants, a coat, and, for some unfathomable reason, no shirt. Someone help me, Y/N thought. Zoro, as expected, looked exactly the same as always—zero effort given, zero surprises there. Nami, at least, looked decent. Not great, but decent. Y/N clicked her tongue, shaking her head like a disappointed mother.

Nami noticed her scrutiny and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “Oh, please, Y/N. This place is crawling with ugly pirates. We don’t have to look like royalty for them.”

Y/N smirked, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm as she adjusted the strap of her dress. “Sure, Nami, because when I think of my life goals, ‘blending in with ugly pirates’ is right at the top of the list.” She gave the group a once-over, then added with a mock sigh, “Listen, just because the bar is on the floor doesn’t mean I have to trip over it. Standards, darlings. Standards.”

"Can we just go now?" Zoro said to which Luffy nods excitedly.

She let out an exaggerated sigh, smoothing her hand over her dress like she was trying to gather the patience to deal with them. Finally, she gave the group a look of mock exasperation, her tone dripping with playful judgment.

“Alright, come on, let’s get this over with before I change my mind and pretend I don’t know any of you.” She started walking ahead, throwing a cheeky glance over her shoulder. "Be good, you’re all one embarrassing moment away from being disowned."

As they strolled through the bustling docks, Y/N walked with her head held high and a confident grin tugging at her lips. She could feel the stares following her, lingering longer than usual. Did it feel good to be admired? Absolutely—it always did. But she wasn’t naive; she knew exactly why they were staring. Her appearance, her aura, her very presence practically demanded attention. That’s one of her traits as a siren, after all.

Still, the attention was something she chose to brush off… mostly. Every so often, her smirk widened just a fraction, a subtle acknowledgement that yes, she knew she was turning heads, and yes, she was enjoying it more than she’d ever admit.

“Wow, people do stare at you,” Usopp muttered, his wide eyes darting around the dock as merchants and pirates. His tone was half amazement, half bewilderment.

Y/N’s grin widened, a mischievous glint in her eye as she smoothly linked her arm with his.

“Why, yes, they do,” she replied with a playful lilt. “Care to be my arm candy for the evening, champ? Strictly for appearances, of course.”

Usopp’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and he let out a nervous chuckle.

“I… uh… okay,” he stammered, trying to muster a confident smile.

Y/N leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Relax, Usopp. Just think of it as adding another daring tale to your collection.”

He straightened up a bit, a spark of pride flickering in his eyes.

“Yeah, I can do that,” he said, more to himself than to her.

As they continued down the dock, Y/N couldn’t help but smirk.

“Besides,” she added with a playful wink, “who wouldn’t want to be seen with the most dashing slinger here?”

Usopp smirked, his chest puffing out as her confidence seemed to spark something in him. With his newfound swagger, he added an exaggerated strut to his step. He looked as though he’d just been crowned king of the dock.

Y/N chuckled and glanced back at Nami, who was trailing behind with Luffy, who was looking at everyone and everything all at once and Zoro, who looked like he rather be anywhere else. The orange-haired girl rolled her eyes, but there was a trace of amusement on her face that betrayed her usual exasperation. Y/N shot her a playful grin.

“Want to be my other arm candy?” Y/N teased, holding out her free arm with an exaggerated flourish. Her grin was as charming as it was mischievous. “I promise, you’ll steal just as many stares as me.”

“Pass,” she said, though the playful tone in her voice made it clear she was more amused than annoyed. “I think you’ve got enough attention for all of us,”

Y/N chuckled, turning back with a shrug. “Suit yourself, but you’re missing out on being part of the most glamorous trio this dock has ever—and will ever—see.”

She barely finished her sentence when a voice cut through the noise of the docks, calling her name.

“Y/N?”

Her entire body froze, the familiar voice making her breath catch in her throat. She snapped her head toward the source, her eyes widening in disbelief.

“Tallen?” she whispered, barely able to get the word out.

Standing a few feet away was a man with a face she’d never forgotten—dimples carved into his handsome smile, a warmth in his eyes that brought a rush of memories crashing down on her. The sight of him stole her breath.

“Oh, the stars, it’s you!” she exclaimed, a wide, joyous smile breaking across her face as she let go of Usopp without a second thought. Before anyone could react, she all but ran into the man’s arms, colliding with him like a wave meeting the shore. He wrapped her in a hug so firm and familiar it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

“Sweet Y/N,” Tallen murmured, his voice soft and steady, the way she remembered.

“It’s been too long,” she whispered, holding him tighter, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Far too long,” he agreed, his arms squeezing her just a bit more.

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat, leaning into the hug as if letting go would break her.

“I’m glad to see you alive,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m glad to see you alive,” Tallen replied softly, his words carrying the weight of shared history and loss. He was her fellow Siren—one of the last few, the dwindling remnants of their kind.

They lingered for a moment longer, their arms reluctantly falling away as they both seemed hesitant to break the connection. The warmth of the embrace lingered, but reality began to creep back in.

That’s when it happened—a deliberate clearing of a throat. Nami.

Y/N blinked, suddenly aware of her surroundings again. She turned to see Nami standing there with an arched brow, arms crossed, and a look that was equal parts curiosity and amusement. Behind her, Usopp was gaping like he’d just witnessed the twist ending of a great story, and Zoro, as usual, looked unimpressed but faintly intrigued and Luffy who had a trademark smile on his face yet curious.

“Oh,” Y/N said, laughing awkwardly as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Right. Uh… introductions.” She glanced at Tallen and back to them. “Everyone, this is Tallen. He’s…” Her voice trailed off for a moment, her smile faltering slightly before she finished, “He’s an old friend.”

Tallen, ever the charmer, gave a polite nod to the group, his dimples deepening as he grinned. “Pleasure to meet you all.“

Before anyone had a chance to properly introduce themselves, Y/N cut in, her tone light but firm.

“I’ll meet you lot inside, okay?” she said, flashing them a quick smile.

Luffy looked between them, and after a second, he nodded grinning. “Okay, I’ll save you a seat.”

Usopp muttered something about not wanting to be left behind and followed after Luffy. Nami lingered for a moment, giving Y/N a long look before sighing and heading toward the entrance.

Zoro, as usual, barely reacted, simply grunting, “Don’t take too long,” before following the others.

“Noted,” Y/N replied with a grin, already turning back to Tallen.

Y/N’s eyes softened as she looked at Tallen, a flood of emotions washing over her. The last time she’d seen him was about three or four years ago, and while he still looked very much the same, there was a new air of maturity about him—just enough to make her realize how much time had passed.

“It’s really you,” Y/N murmured, her voice tinged with disbelief and relief, as though she still wasn’t entirely convinced this moment was real.

“In the flesh,” Tallen replied with a nod, his own expression softening. He gave her a once-over, his lips curving into a teasing smile. “You look older.”

Y/N let out a huff of laughter, lightly pushing him on the shoulder. “And you still have the subtlety of a cannonball.”

Her playful smile faltered slightly as her eyes searched his face, her voice quiet but hopeful. “What about the others? Lyan, Kiku, Ren? Are they still—”

“Yes,” Tallen interrupted gently, his tone steady and reassuring. “They’re here with me.”

Y/N let out a deep sigh of relief, her shoulders visibly relaxing. “Where?”

“Probably asleep in the room on our ship,” Tallen explained, a small, proud smile tugging at his lips. “We had a late-night performance last night.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, a grin breaking across her face. “You got a ship?”

“A small one,” he said, trying (and failing) to hide just how proud he was. “But yes, we did.”

Without hesitation, Y/N threw her arms around him again, pulling him into a warm embrace.

“I’m so happy for you—for all of you,” she whispered, her voice thick with genuine emotion.

Tallen’s smile widened as he held her, and for a moment, they simply existed in the comfort of the reunion.

Lyan, Kiku, and Ren—like Y/N and Tallen—were Sirens. They were the lucky few who had escaped the hands of those who sought to harm or exploit them. Together, they had formed their own little family, bound by survival and shared pain. They’d taught Y/N so much in the time they travelled together, how to survive in a world that wanted them gone.

And like true Sirens, they dedicated themselves to their art—music, song, and performance—using their gifts to dazzle. She could still hear their songs in her memory—hauntingly beautiful, filled with life and defiance. They’d always been on the move, hopping from island to island, hitching rides with mercenaries or, when times were desperate, even pirates. And yes, while swimming is a faster option, the risk is bigger. Staying in one place too long was a death sentence; that was the first lesson Y/N had learned from them. And now, the thought that they had their own ship, a small but significant freedom, made her heart swell with pride.

“You’ve come so far,” Y/N said softly, pulling back slightly to look at Tallen. “You all have.”

“And so have you,” Tallen replied, his tone warm and genuine. “I’m glad we found you again. Tell me, who are those people you’re here with?”

“They’re… uh, friends,” Y/N replied, her tone unsure as she glanced over her shoulder toward the Going Merry. She hesitated, catching the way Tallen was giving her a pointed, knowing look. Finally, she sighed and added, “It’s complicated—and a long story.”

“Well,” Tallen said with a grin, leaning back slightly, “good thing we’re leaving tomorrow morning. That gives us all night to catch up."

"Okay," Y/N nods.

“Good,” Tallen said with satisfaction, taking a step back. “See you later at the bar, okay?”

“See you there,” Y/N replied, watching him as he walked away, her heart feeling lighter than it had in years.

Finally, Y/N stepped inside the ship, and her breath hitched at the sight before her. The Baratie was nothing short of magnificent, a unique blend of maritime charm and upscale elegance.

However, before Y/N could truly take in the grandeur of the Baratie's interior, her gaze locked onto the host near the entrance. Her back stiffened instinctively, and though she kept her composure, the small, well-concealed gills along her neck fluttered. They only did that when another sea creature was nearby.

He was a Fish-man.

For a moment, their eyes locked, and the air between them seemed to hum with a quiet, unspoken tension. He knew. Of course, he knew. The thing about Sirens—unique among sea creatures—was that no matter how perfectly they blended in with humans, their presence sang to others of the sea. It wasn’t something tangible, but like a melody carried on a current, it was impossible to ignore for those born of the ocean.

It wasn’t just recognition. It was history, unspoken and heavy, carried in their shared gaze. Sirens and other sea folk—whether Fish-men or Merfolk—had always harbored a quiet animosity toward one another. Sirens had something the others didn’t: choice. Sirens had a freedom that others of the sea could only dream of: the ability to seamlessly blend in with humans, to walk on land or dive into the ocean at will, and to choose when to wear a tail and when to shed it. It was a luxury that set them apart—and not always in a good way. Resentment had festered for centuries, compounded by the Sirens’ refusal to bend the knee to King Neptune’s rule.

They were a secretive, lone species.

Yet, in the aftermath of the near-massacre of her kin, these old grudges had softened, replaced by mutual, unspoken support among the remnants of the sea's diverse inhabitants.

The host's polite smile never wavered as he addressed her. "Is there anything I can help you with, madam?"

Y/N took a steadying breath, reminding herself of the fragile peace that now existed and the necessity of keeping her composure.

“My friends,” she began, her tone calm but deliberate, “they came in here just now. Uh—one of them had a straw hat—”

“Ah, yes,” the host interrupted smoothly, a faint trace of mockery curling the edges of his voice. “The ‘future king’ of the pirates.” His words dripped with wry amusement as he turned, gesturing toward a table at which her friends were currently occupying. “It’ll be right there, madam.”

Y/N sent him a polite smile, the corners of her lips curving just enough to convey gratitude. But her eyes held a subtle, knowing look—a quiet reminder of who and what she was.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice steady and composed, before making her way towards her friends

Y/N let out a quiet huff as she descended the stairs, her heels clicking rhythmically against the polished wooden floor. Internally, she was fuming. Tallen, she thought with a simmering annoyance. After this meal, I’m slapping his dimples clean off for not mentioning the Fish-Men.

But in her mild frustration and distraction, she didn’t notice the waiter stepping out from the side with a tray balanced on one hand.

They collided.

The sudden impact caused her to stumble slightly, and she instinctively reached out to steady herself, her hand brushing against the waiter's arm. A soft clatter followed as a single glass wobbled on the tray, but before it could fall, the waiter caught it effortlessly, his reflexes as smooth as silk.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” Y/N blurted, her voice a mix of embarrassment and genuine apology, a faint flush dusting her cheeks.

"No need to apologize, mademoiselle," he said smoothly, turning to face her with a charming smile that she was sure he thought could probably disarm a shipful of pirates, "If anything, I should thank the heavens for allowing me to cross paths with such a captivating beauty."

Y/N blinked at him, caught momentarily off guard by his line, but only for a heartbeat. Oh, he's one of those. Her lips curved into a sly, confident smile as she straightened her dress, effortlessly slipping into her usual charm.

"Is that so?" she teased, tilting her head ever so slightly. "Well, if fate's handing out meetings, perhaps it's my lucky day to encounter a waiter with such impeccable reflexes and a silver tongue to match."

The waiter's eyes widened for a brief moment, her words catching him off guard, but his signature charm quickly returned. He straightened his posture, one hand adjusting his tie as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Ah, mademoiselle, you honor me,” he said smoothly, his voice rich and velvety. “But let me assure you, my reflexes pale in comparison to the elegance of your words. It seems fate isn’t just kind—it’s downright generous today.”

His gaze softened as he leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. “And if this is your lucky day, then I’d consider it mine too. After all, it’s not every day I get to save a stunning woman from the perils of a wobbling glass.”

“Smooth,” she said and leaned in slightly, her expression mischievous, her voice dropping to a low, playful lilt. “But tell me, loverboy, is that line part of the menu, or is it just a special off-the-cuff dish you whip up for unsuspecting women?”

Sanji blinked, the faintest hint of pink dusting his cheeks, but he quickly tried to recover, clearing his throat. “I-"

Her eyes sparkled as she continued, barely giving him a chance to recover.

“Because if it’s the latter, I must say, it’s quite the treat. Though…” her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made his breath hitch. She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a soft, almost conspiratorial tone. “I can’t help but wonder if you’ve got something even better in your repertoire.”

Sanji blinked, momentarily at a loss, his cheeks dusted with a soft pink hue as he struggled to regain his composure. He adjusted his tie again, swallowing hard, his usual suave demeanor slipping under the weight of her effortless teasing.

“M-mademoiselle,” he stammered, his voice still coated with charm, though now tinged with genuine fluster. “I assure you, my repertoire has no limits, and I’d be honored to… to serve you something truly unforgettable.”

Y/N took a step closer, her eyes never leaving his.

"You know," she said softly, reaching up to straighten his slightly askew tie, "flattery will get you everywhere." Her fingers lingered for a moment longer than necessary, her touch light and teasing.

The waiter's breath hitched, his composure slipping as a deep flush spread across his cheeks. "I-I... um..."

Y/N leaned in, faces ever so closely, she whispered, "But only if you can keep up." With that, she pulled back, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have friends waiting."

She turned on her heel and sauntered away, leaving the flustered waiter staring after her, his heart pounding in his chest. She couldn't help but chuckle to herself. Too easy.

Y/N made her way over to her friends, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. She paused when she reached the table, her eyes scanning the group briefly before landing on Zoro, who was comfortably perched at the edge of the bench.

“Zoro,” she said, her tone light but teasing, “please stand up so I can sit next to Nami.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow at her, clearly unimpressed. “What’s wrong with sitting on the other side?”

Y/N tilted her head, her expression turning mock-serious as she placed a hand on her hip. “Because I prefer not to be in the splash zone when Luffy starts eating. You know how he gets.”

Zoro grumbled under his breath, muttering something about "drama queens," but he stood up anyway, shifting to another spot and letting Y/N slide gracefully into the seat next to Nami without a fuss.

She turned to him with a triumphant smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Thank you, my love. Your cooperation is, as always, greatly appreciated.”

"Yeah, yeah," Zoro muttered, settling into his new seat.

Nami chuckled softly beside Y/N. "Always know how to get your way, don't you?"

Y/N winked. "It's a gift, really."

The waiter approached their table with practiced ease, balancing a tray of beverages for the group. One by one, he placed the drinks in front of the others, his movements smooth and deliberate. Just as Y/N was about to ask for hers, he surprised her by setting a bottle of wine on the table in front of her with a small flourish.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued as she glanced up at him. His smirk was confident, almost playful, as he leaned slightly closer.

“A fine wine for a finer ladies,” he said smoothly, his tone dripping with charm.

The corner of Y/N’s lips curled into a sly smile as she leaned back in her chair, her arms crossing casually.

“Flattering,” she replied, tilting her head. “But I don’t remember ordering this."

Y/N turned to Nami faking curiosity, "Did you, pumpkin?"

"No, just water," Nami said as she picked up the glass of water.

"I see," Y/N turns to the waiter and tilts her head. "Does it come with the compliments of the establishment or the waiter?”

“Consider it a personal recommendation,” he said, straightening slightly, though there was now a faint hint of nervousness behind his confident demeanor. With practiced precision, he poured a bit of the wine into her glass, the rich liquid swirling smoothly as it settled.

“The food will be out shortly. Enjoy,” he added, flashing one last ever-so-charming smile before gracefully excusing himself.

Y/N watched him go with an amused smirk before raising her glass. “Well, salud,” she said, the word rolling off her tongue effortlessly as she took a sip. She paused for a moment, savoring the taste, then gave a small nod of approval.

“Not bad,” she remarked, her eyes twinkling as she placed the glass back on the table. “But then again, I wouldn’t expect anything less after that performance.”

Nami rolled her eyes. “He’s got some nerve, doesn’t he?”

Y/N chuckled. “Oh, he’s got more than nerve—he’s got good taste in wine, at least.”

“So, who was your friend you were talking to?” Luffy asked, his voice muffled as he shoved another bread bun into his mouth without a care for table manners.

Usopp grinned, leaning forward with his eyebrows wiggling teasingly. “A boyfriend?”

“Gods, no,” Y/N said with a laugh, shaking her head as she took another sip of her wine. “Like I said, just an old friend. One I didn’t think I’d ever see again.”

“Why?” Nami chimed in, her tone laced with curiosity.

Y/N paused for a moment, swirling the wine in her glass as she felt their collective gazes on her. She glanced around the table, noting how everyone seemed genuinely interested—except Zoro, of course, who only looked vaguely curious in that nonchalant way of his.

“Well,” she began, her voice casual but carrying a note of fondness, “me and a few others used to travel together, performing and stuff, y’know.” She gestured vaguely with her free hand, her eyes flicking between them. “We were kind of like a troupe—dancers, musicians, storytellers. We’d go from town to town, putting on shows for whoever would watch.”

“Oh, were they your crew—” Luffy started, crumbs still falling from his mouth.

“No,” Y/N interrupted softly, her tone firmer this time, her gaze dropping to the glass in her hand. “They’re no crew. They’re family.”

She fidgeted slightly in her seat, swirling the wine in her glass before taking another sip as if it might steady her thoughts.

“They’re like an uh—” she began, then shook her head with a quiet laugh, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Like a shoal of fish or a covey of birds. Travelling from island to island letting the ocean take them as it wishes. Never staying in one spot long enough to leave footprints.”

“Why didn’t you stay with them?” Of course, it was Zoro who asked, his tone direct, his eyes focused on her like he was cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

Y/N looked up at him, her lips parting slightly as if to answer, but then her gaze shifted to Nami, who was watching her just as intently, curiosity swimming in her eyes. Her fingers tightened slightly around the stem of her glass, and for a moment, the table felt far too quiet, far too heavy.

But as if the universe took pity on her, the food arrived at just the right moment, breaking the tension. Plates upon plates were placed on the table, filling the air with rich, mouthwatering aromas. Y/N let out a silent breath of relief, leaning back slightly as the waiter set down her dish.

She picked up her fork, her expression brightening ever so slightly as she joined in the excitement of the food.

“Finally, something to stop Luffy from eating the table itself,” she teased lightly, earning a laugh from Usopp and a grin from Nami.

The question lingered in the air, unspoken but not forgotten. But Y/N knew she wouldn’t let it resurface. The answer was too close, too raw. The past had no business here, at this table, at this moment. Not when she’d worked so hard to leave it behind.

The food was nothing short of spectacular, each bite bursting with flavor that left Y/N savoring every moment. It didn’t take long for the plates to clear—unsurprising, given Luffy and Usopp’s ravenous appetites. She barely had a chance to blink before half the dishes had vanished under their relentless enthusiasm.

Still, Y/N took her time, indulging in the meal like royalty. She filled herself to the brim, relishing every delicious bite until she leaned back in her chair, her stomach pleasantly full and her breaths coming slower. She could hardly move, but it was worth it. Every bite was a little slice of heaven, and she wasn’t about to let a single morsel go to waste.

As she leaned back in her chair, a hand resting on her overly full stomach, she let out a soft groan of satisfaction. “If I die tonight, tell the world it was the Baratie that did me in,”

I can’t eat another bite," Usopp moaned dramatically, staring longingly at the piece of cheese on his fork. "But it’s so good."

"Oh man, you said it," Zoro muttered, popping the cap off yet another beer like he was just getting started.

Nami sighed, leaning back in her chair with a hand on her stomach. "I’m not gonna be hungry for a week."

And then, of course, there was Luffy—completely unaffected. Still chewing on a massive steak, he looked up and, with the kind of unshakable enthusiasm only he could manage, asked, "Should we order dessert?"

"Yes," Y/N grunted, her voice muffled as she leaned back, trying to make room in her overstuffed stomach. She might have been at capacity, but her notorious sweet tooth wasn’t about to let her skip dessert. Priorities, she thought.

"I already got mine," Zoro said, lifting his beer meaningfully as if it was the only dessert he needed.

Luffy’s eyes lit up like fireworks, his hands clapping against the table as he finally set his steak down. "Mmm, that reminds me! We should make a toast. Come on, grab your glasses."

Y/N turned her head to look at Luffy, her expression somewhere between disbelief and amusement as she watched him grab his glass of milk. She sighed, unable to suppress a small smirk, and reached for her wine glass, holding it up lazily.

“To the best crew sailing on the sea and to our victory!” Luffy cheered, his grin stretching wide as he clinked his glass enthusiastically with Usopp’s.

“Yeah!” Usopp echoed, raising his mug like they’d just conquered the world.

Y/N, however, pursed her lips, quietly letting her glass go down. The memory of being so dangerously close to recapture by the Marines clung to her like a shadow, one she wasn’t ready to toast to. Victory wasn’t exactly how she’d describe that ordeal.

“No, I’m sorry,” Nami’s voice cut sharply through the celebration, her expression firm as she turned to Luffy. Her eyes narrowed. “What victory exactly?”

“Against the Marines,” Luffy said with unabashed excitement, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Our very first battle, and we crushed them!”

Nami shook her head, her frustration barely masked. “I don’t know how many naval battles you guys have been part of…”

“Two dozen, at least,” Usopp mumbled behind his beer.

“But that was a disaster,” Nami continued, her tone rising as her exasperation grew. “We were unprepared, uncoordinated. By all rights, we should be at the bottom of the sea right now.”

“We’re not, though. Luffy saved us,” Usopp chimed in, as if that single fact could erase the chaos of it all.

Y/N let out a slow, heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as she felt the tension brewing. She could already see where this conversation was heading.

"Are we really going to ignore the elephant in the room right now?" Nami deadpanned, her voice sharp enough to cut through the remaining chatter at the table.

"Nami, please..." Y/N said softly, trying to settle her down, though she already knew it was a losing battle.

"No, Y/N." Nami turned to her, her tone edged with irritation, then immediately shifted her focus to Luffy. "He didn’t think to mention that his grandfather was a Marine. And not just any Marine, a vice-admiral! I don’t know about you, but I didn’t sign up for that."

"You raided a Marine base," Zoro interjected, as if that explained everything. "Of course that’ll make you a target."

Nami swung her gaze to him, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. "If I’d stolen the map, no one would’ve even known I was there. As opposed to wrecking a base commander’s office."

Before the tension could thicken, Sanji—the waiter, as Y/N now knew him—appeared at the table with his usual calm and charm. "Your bill, sir,"

“Ah,” Luffy replied with his trademark carefree smile which took a moment to appear. He took the bill, scribbled something on it without a second thought, and handed it back. “Thank you, my good man.”

Y/N’s frown deepened as she sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing on the exchange. Her mind shot back to Shell’s Town, to when Luffy ate at Food Foo. She had a bad feeling about this.

"Luffy..." Y/N said cautiously, her voice slower now, but he didn’t seem to hear her.

Sanji glanced at the bill, and a peculiar smile spread across his face—a smile that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine.

"No, sir. Thank you," Sanji said smoothly, his tone almost... too pleasant.

Oh, gods. As a former waitress, she recognized that smile. That was the you’re-about-to-regret-this smile. She glanced around at her friends to see if anyone else had caught on. Was she seriously the only one who understood what was about to happen?

She tried again, her voice firmer this time. "Luffy—"

But Luffy, ever oblivious, kept going, raising his voice slightly in what he probably thought was an inspirational tone. "I’m not saying it’s good that the Marines are on our tail, but we showed them they can’t just roll over us!"

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose as her suspicions grew. Luffy, please, stop talking.

"This crew, our crew, can handle anything!" Luffy declared with a triumphant grin.

And as if fate itself couldn’t resist the opportunity for drama, a booming voice cut through the restaurant, rattling the walls and silencing the entire room.

"WHO THE HELL IS MONKEY D. LUFFY?"

Y/N groaned, her head falling into her hands. "Here we go." She looked up just in time to see Luffy look back at the head chef and raise his hand.

"Here!" Luffy called out, completely unfazed.

Y/N slumped back into her seat, muttering under her breath. "Oh, stars,"

Zeff's scowl deepened as he strode over, the crowd parting in his wake.

"You seem to be confused about the rules of the house, but Baratie doesn’t offer credit," He stopped beside their table, towering over them, glaring at Luffy, who was calmly drinking his milk. "You eat, you pay."

Luffy looked up, unfazed. "I think you’re confused."

Y/N groaned, hiding her face in her hands as she anticipated Luffy's explanation.

"The meal has already been paid for. I just haven’t given you the money yet," Luffy continued confidently.

Zeff's eyebrow twitched. "Yeah, and how’s that?"

"You can add it to my treasure tab," Luffy said with a grin.

"And what, pray tell, is that?" Zeff asked, his tone flat.

"I may not look like a big deal yet, but you’re talking with the future King of the Pirates," Luffy declared, as if that would make it all go better. "And as soon as I find the One Piece, I’m gonna come back, pay this bill in full, and with interest."

The chef let out a low chuckle. “I’ve got a better idea.”

And just like that, Luffy was unceremoniously hauled off toward the kitchens.

Y/N leaned back in her chair, exhaling a long breath of resignation as her gaze drifted off into nothingness. She made no effort to intervene—it wasn’t worth it.

“I need a drink,” Nami muttered, rubbing her temple.

“Yeah, something stronger would be nice,” Y/N sighed, her tone weary.

The four made their way to the bar located in the mouth of the fish, settling into a quiet corner. Zoro was already on his third beer, Nami and Usopp on their first, while Y/N was still trying to decide what to order. Her deliberation was interrupted when a bartender approached and set a large cocktail down in front of her.

Y/N blinked, looking up at the bartender with confusion. “Uh... sorry, I didn’t—”

“No, he bought it for you,” the bartender cut in, nodding toward an older man perched at the bar. The man raised his glass and winked at her with a grin that sent a chill down her spine.

“Oh, goodie,” Y/N muttered under her breath, though she still managed to force a polite smile in the man’s direction. She turned back to the bartender quickly. “You can take it back. I—”

Before she could finish, Usopp reached over, snatching the drink with a grin. “No, I’ll take it!” he said cheerfully, taking a big sip. His face lit up almost immediately.

“Oh, this is good!” he said, waving enthusiastically at the older man. “THANK YOU!”

Y/N stared at him, half-exasperated, half-amused, as she sighed and leaned back in her chair. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

Nami leaned back in her chair. “You’ve got some admirers, Y/N.”

“Admirers I don’t want,” Y/N shot back, glaring playfully at Usopp as he continued to sip the drink. “Thanks for taking one for the team, Usopp.”

“Hey, waste not, want not.” He took another big sip, completely unbothered, while Nami rolled her eyes and Zoro chuckled into his beer.

"Speaking of waste not," Y/N said with a sly smirk, reaching over to grab Usopp's barely-touched beer. "I’ll take that off your hands, champ."

Usopp, completely absorbed in savouring the oversized cocktail, simply hummed in agreement, nodding absentmindedly as he took another enthusiastic sip.

“Thanks, generous as always,” Y/N chuckled, raising the glass to her lips, watching as Usopp continued to obliviously inhale the cocktail, none the wiser.

That was until Zoro, in an uncharacteristic act of charity, warned the boy, “Pace yourself.”

Usopp paused mid-sip, looking down at the drink with a skeptical expression. “I don’t even think there’s liquor in this. It tastes just like candy.”

Y/N tilted her head thoughtfully, a teasing hum escaping her lips. “Wouldn’t be so sure,”

Zoro took a swig of his beer and added dryly, “Yeah, last time I said that, I woke up face down under a table.”

Y/N burst out laughing, her grin wide and teasing. "Oh, I would’ve paid good berry to see that."

“Yeah, I bet you would’ve,” Zoro scoffed, his gaze shifting to Nami, who was staring intently at her glass, lost in thought. He raised an eyebrow before looking away. “That glass have gold on the bottom or what?"

Nami blinked, snapping out of her trance. “Hmm?”

“You haven’t stopped staring at it,” Zoro pointed out, his tone blunt as usual.

Nami sighed, clearly debating something, before finally caving and looking between Zoro and Y/N. “You seriously don’t think what Luffy did is messed up?”

Y/N’s teasing grin faded as she glanced down at her own drink. She could understand where Nami was coming from. Truly, she did. But who was she to demand someone to share their secrets? To dig up secrets or memories that Luffy clearly wanted to leave buried? That wasn’t her place.

“Yeah, he should’ve told us,” Zoro admitted, his tone calm and matter-of-fact. He leaned back in his chair before adding, “But in case you didn’t notice, we’ve been making enemies everywhere we go. Psycho clowns, killer butlers… what’s a vice-admiral gonna do to us that’s any worse?”

Y/N lifted her glass, her voice quieter but steady. “And who are we to demand something like that out of him? I’m sure he has his reasons for keeping it to himself.”

Nami shook her head, her frustration barely contained. “No, you don’t get it. I can’t get caught. Not when I’m so close…”

Her words trailed off abruptly as if she realized she had said too much. Her lips pressed together tightly, and Y/N made no effort to pry. She wouldn’t judge—she understood the weight of secrets all too well.

After a tense moment, Nami placed her beer down and forced a casual look. “Uh, who’s ready for another drink? My treat.”

Zoro grunted in approval, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “My favorite kind of drink.”

Y/N nodded with a smile, “Can’t say no to that.”

With that, Nami swiftly stood up and headed to the bar, leaving the trio behind at the table. The moment she was out of earshot, Usopp leaned in conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a whisper as he said, “She’s hiding something.”

Y/N chuckled softly, tipping back the last of her beer. She set the empty glass down with a gentle clink and met Usopp’s wide-eyed gaze with a knowing look.

“Aren’t we all?” she replied, her tone light but laced with truth.

Zoro glanced at her but said nothing, his expression unreadable as he took another sip of his beer.

Suddenly, Y/N felt two strong hands grab her from behind, lifting her right out of her chair with a jolt. Her heart nearly skipped a beat, but the instinct to panic vanished as soon as she recognized the culprit. Only one person would do something so ridiculous.

“But look at you!!” Ren exclaimed, his voice booming with excitement as he hugged her tightly and started walking away from the table, carrying her like a sack of potatoes.

Y/N groaned but couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of her.

“Ren, put me down!” she demanded, half-laughing, half-protesting.

When he finally set her down, Y/N turned and froze, her eyes lighting up as she saw Tallen, Lyan, and Kiku standing nearby, all grinning from ear to ear.

For a moment, she just stared at them, taking it all in—the familiar faces, the warmth in their smiles, the wave of nostalgia and relief that washed over her. Then, without hesitation, she let out a shriek of pure joy and jumped forward, wrapping them in a tight hug.

“Oh gods, I can’t believe this!” she exclaimed, her voice cracking slightly from the overwhelming emotion. Hugging them again felt like coming home, like a missing piece of herself had been returned. The weight of everything she’d been carrying seemed to lift, if only for a moment.

They laughed as they hugged her back, each one holding her tightly as if to make up for lost time. Tallen stood to the side, his arms crossed and a big grin plastered across his face as he watched the reunion.

“I told you she’d be here,” Tallen said smugly, glancing at the others.

Y/N pulled back slightly, her hands still on Kiku's and Lyan’s shoulders, her smile wide and genuine. “Gods, I miss you all."

“We missed you more!” Ren grinned, squeezing her back tightly.

Kiku laughed softly, her voice warm. “We thought we’d never see you again.”

Lyan, ever the quiet one, simply smiled, his eyes crinkling with the emotion he didn’t need to say out loud.

"Tallen told us you’ll be playing with us tonight…" Kiku said, her voice lilting with both curiosity and excitement as she looked at Y/N with a hopeful smile.

Y/N blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before arching an eyebrow at Tallen, who was standing nearby, grinning like he’d just pulled off the biggest scheme of the century.

“Did he now?” Y/N asked, her tone teasing as she folded her arms, giving Tallen a mock glare. "Funny, because Tallen didn’t ask me about that.”

Tallen chuckled, holding up his hands defensively. “Come on, Y/N, it’s just like old times! One night, one set—think of it as a reunion gig.”

“A reunion gig?” Y/N repeated, raising both eyebrows now. “You mean the kind where you spring it on me last second and I have no time to prepare?”

“Oh, please,” Ren chimed in, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “You could do this in your sleep. You’re Y/N—you’re never not ready.”

She sighed, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile as she crossed her arms. “You guys really don’t give me a choice, do you?”

“Not even a little,” Lyan chimed in with a laugh, nudging her playfully. “Come on, Y/N. It’ll be just like old times.”

Kiku clasped her hands together, her smile widening. “We’ve missed this, and we’ve missed you.”

Y/N sighed, looking around at their expectant faces, her faux-annoyance melting into a small smile.

“You all are impossible, you know that?” she said, shaking her head. “Fine. But only because I am amazing and don’t need prep time.”

The group burst into cheers, Kiku clapping her hands in delight. “I knew you wouldn’t say no!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N said, waving them off but unable to keep the grin off her face. “But don’t blame me if I upstage all of you tonight.”

Tallen smirked. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

After a few drinks—just enough for Y/N to feel a pleasant buzz warming her cheeks—and some planning for tonight's performance, the nostalgia began to creep in. The laughter, the easy camaraderie of old friends… it felt like slipping back into a part of herself she hadn’t touched in a long time.

Soon, the time for the show finally came. Excusing herself with a grin, Y/N made her way to the Going Merry to grab her guitar. When she returned, the bar was alive with excitement, the anticipation practically crackling in the air.

Tallen, ever the showman, was already commanding the attention of the crowd with his infectious energy and booming voice. He stood center of the makeshift stage, Den Den Mushi in hand, hyping up the room like a seasoned entertainer. When his eyes landed on Y/N stepping into view, he broke into a wide grin, his charisma cranked up to full volume.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Pirates, sailors, and scallywags alike!” he called out, his voice booming through the Den Den Mushi. “Prepare yourselves for a treat like no other! She’s sailed with the best, dazzled the rest, and left a trail of awestruck audiences in her wake! The one, the only, the songbird of the seas—give it up for Y/N!”

The audience erupted into whistles, cheers, and applause as Tallen stepped aside, his grin as wide as ever while he gestured grandly for her to take the stage. Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes with a playful laugh, shaking her head at his theatrics. Adjusting the strap of her guitar, she made her way to the centre of the stage with a light skip to her step and a twist that made her skirt flare just slightly, adding her own bit of signature flair to the entrance.

Her smile widened as she took in the energy of the crowd, the cheers lifting her spirits even higher. She gave a mock curtsy, her guitar still slung across her shoulder and leaned into the Den Den with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Alright, alright,” she said, her voice warm but teasing as the applause began to settle. “No need to go overboard—Tallen already made me sound like I’m the second coming of Gold Roger.”

The audience chuckled, and Tallen shot her wink. "Just saying it as I see it, my dear."

“Alright, folks, let me be honest with you—Tallen hyped me up so much that even I’m starting to wonder if I’m actually that good,” Y/N said, grinning. “But hey, if I mess up, just remember—you paid for the drinks, not the talent.”

She let the crowd laugh again, her timing impeccable as she adjusted her guitar. “But in all seriousness, thank you for having me tonight. I don’t usually play in restaurants shaped like fish—it’s a very niche market—but hey, there’s a first for everything.”

A few people cheered in agreement, and Y/N gave a casual shrug. “Now, let’s get to the part where I make you forget how much you spent on tonight’s drinks. If I pull that off, I’m expecting a hefty tip.”

The crowd roared with laughter, and Y/N’s smile widened as her fingers brushed the strings lightly in preparation. “Alright, enough chatter. You’ve got drinks in hand, I’ve got a guitar, and we’ve got a whole night ahead of us. Let’s make it count.”

The performance began with Y/N leading the charge, her guitar striking bright, rhythmic chords that immediately set an upbeat tone. Lyan joined in, the lively jingle of his tambourine adding a playful, danceable cadence. The two played off each other seamlessly, their chemistry sparking an infectious energy that had the crowd tapping their feet.

With a quick nod from Y/N, the rest of the group jumped in. Tallen’s mandolin brought a sharp, vibrant melody, Ren’s drums added a driving, steady beat, and Kiku’s violin soared with a celebratory tone that tied everything together. The room came alive as the music burst into full swing, blending into a rich, layered sound.

The energy in the room shifted, the crowd coming alive with movement as the song picked up speed.

"I thought this path was ours to tread, But now it feels like we’ve been misled, Walking this lonely, lonely, endless shore. Your reasons crash like waves at sea, Still, here you are, still here with me, On this lonely, lonely, endless shore."

When the chorus hit, the energy exploded. The band’s instruments blended into a dynamic symphony, each member adding their unique flair. The crowd clapped along, swept up in the fast-paced rhythm. Y/N almost laughed mid-strum when her eyes landed on a drunk Usopp, who had claimed a tiny patch of open floor as his personal dance stage. With exaggerated movements and questionable rhythm, he twirled and stomped.

"If I follow you to the blue, And let my heart drift back to you, Will you stay with me forever, Or disappear like fading beams? If I give my soul to the restless tide, And let its rhythm be our guide, Will it hold us close together, Or wash away our dreams?"

As the band transitioned into the second verse, the room buzzed with vibrant energy. Y/N’s voice carried the emotional weight of the lyrics, weaving effortlessly into the lively rhythm of the instruments. The crowd was fully engaged—some clapped along, others swayed to the music and a few near the bar cheered, their laughter mingling with the lively tune. Even the more reserved patrons couldn’t resist tapping their feet or nodding along.

"You chose a path I couldn’t take, Now here we stand, the ground could break, Walking this lonely, lonely, endless shore.

Take my hand, don’t let it fall, Where does it end, if anywhere at all, Walking this lonely, lonely, endless shore."

The band played with seamless harmony—Y/N’s steady guitar leading, Kiku’s violin soaring, Ren’s drums driving the rhythm, and Tallen’s mandolin adding a playful melody, all tied together by Lyan’s tambourine. The crowd fed off their energy, with a few pirates dancing along with Usopp, turning a small patch of the floor into thier personal, chaotic dance stage.

Y/N caught herself smiling as she glanced over at her friends. Nami was bopping her head in time with the rhythm, a grin spread across her face as if she couldn’t help but get caught up in the energy of the song. Zoro, ever the stoic one, sat back with his usual indifference, but Y/N noticed the slight tap of his foot in time with the beat, betraying his enjoyment. Her fingers moved fluidly over the strings, effortlessly keeping pace with the upbeat rhythm, her smile widening as the song carried on to the last verse.

"I’m just a shadow in your light, A fleeting trace in the starless night. The ocean holds your broken vow, A love you couldn’t cherish now. I know, I know, it’s hard to bear, I lost you here, it’s just not fair. I know, I know, the tide won’t stay, It sweeps our dreams, it pulls away. I know, I know, it’s all too real, I lost you here, I’ll never heal."

With one final strum of the guitar and a unified flourish from the band, the music ended in a crescendo, leaving the crowd cheering, whistling, and stomping their approval. The energy in the room was electric, the upbeat ending turning what could have been a somber farewell into a celebration of persistence, love, and life’s tides.

Y/N laughed breathlessly, taking a small bow as the applause roared around her. Turning to her bandmates, she exchanged a wide grin with them, all of them clearly riding the high of the performance.

“Alright, drinks on you guys, yeah?” Y/N teased, her voice light and playful, carrying easily over the cheers and laughter that filled the room.

Tallen, grinned as he turned to her, his hand dramatically pressed over his heart.

“Oh, sweet Y/N,” Tallen said, his tone dripping with mock sincerity, the perfect blend of theatrical and heartfelt, “just one more ballad, yeah? Promise.”

“Oh, I don’t know, T." Y/N tilted her head, leaning back slightly as if the weight of his words was just too much to bear. "Carrying this whole show on my back is exhausting, you know.”

The crowd laughed, and Tallen didn’t miss a beat. He turned sharply to face the audience, his charisma cranked up to full volume, arms spread wide like a ringmaster addressing his adoring crowd.

“Come on, folks,” he called out, his grin dazzling and infectious. “Don’t you want to hear more? You’re not tired of her yet, are you?”

The room erupted with a thunderous cheer, whistles and applause filling the air as people shouted their agreement. Y/N raised an eyebrow, glancing at Tallen with a playful smirk as the crowd roared around them.

Leaning toward the Den Den, she gave him a mock glare, her voice dripping with teasing charm. “You really are shameless, aren’t you? Riding my coattails like this,”

Tallen shrugged dramatically, his grin widening. “What can I say? They love you, darling. I’m just the hype man making sure the masses get what they want.”

“And here I thought I was the show-off,” Her grin widened as she addressed the laughing audience, her tone light but commanding, filled with charm.

“Alright, alright, you win. Let’s give them something they’ll be singing in their sleep.” She threw Tallen a cheeky glance. “And don’t think you’re off the hook, T. I’m watching you.”

With that, the band launched into the next song, the instruments bursting to life in perfect harmony. The room came alive once more, and the audience swept up in the rhythm, completely enthralled by the magic of the performance.

Soon, the show came to an end, much to Y/N’s dismay. The applause was deafening as she strummed the final chord, giving the crowd one last radiant smile and a playful wave. “You’ve been amazing—don’t forget to tip your bartenders!” she called, earning another round of laughter and cheers before stepping down from the stage.

She was immediately met by a wave of smiling patrons, each vying for a moment of her time. Compliments poured in, one after another—people singing her praises, declaring her the highlight of their night. Some handed her Berry as tokens of appreciation, while others offered bottles of liquor, which she accepted with a bright grin and a playful “You sure know how to spoil a girl.” A few even declared their undying love, and Y/N laughed, placing a hand over her heart. “Flattered, truly. I’ll consider proposals after my second bottle.”

Her natural charm and ease kept the interactions lively, but eventually, she managed to slip away, the bottle of rum in her hand clinking softly as she met up with Tallen. Together, they wandered off to a quieter, more secluded part of the fish-ship, near the docks. The sounds of the lively restaurant faded into the background as they sat down at the edge, letting their feet dangle over the water.

“Been too long,” Tallen said, breaking the silence as he gazed out over the gently rippling water.

Y/N nodded, her fingers idly tapping the neck of the bottle. “Yeah, it has. I missed this. Missed you.”

He grinned, though it was softer than his usual showmanship, the kind of smile that reached his eyes. “You’ve done good, you know. I can tell.”

She laughed lightly, leaning back on her hands. “Still figuring it out. You know me—one chaotic day at a time, which these days seems more often than not.”

Tallen smirks in curiosity, "Whatever do you mean?"

"Earlier today, you saw the people I was with, well..."

They passed the bottle back and forth, the hum of the distant crowd fading into the background as they talked. This wasn’t the idle chatter from before—it was real, honest catching up, the kind of conversation only old friends could have. They laughed about shared memories, exchanged stories of where they’d been, and filled in the gaps that time and distance had left.

Y/N leaned back on her hands, staring up at the stars as Tallen told her a particularly ridiculous story about his recent travels. She laughed, the sound light and genuine, and nudged his shoulder with her own.

“You’re still as full of it as ever,” she teased, though her eyes gleamed with fondness.

“And you’re still the queen of stealing the spotlight,” Tallen retorted, taking another swig of rum and shooting her a teasing grin. “But damn, it’s good to see you out here again. Just like old times.”

Y/N chuckled softly, her fingers brushing the edge of the dock as her gaze drifted to the water.

“Yeah,” she murmured, her voice quieter now. “It’s good to see you too.”

For a moment, they let the silence settle between them, the kind of peaceful, unspoken understanding that only old friends could share. The gentle lapping of the waves against the ship filled the spaces between their breaths, and for a brief while, the weight of the past and the uncertainties of the future didn’t matter.

But, of course, Tallen couldn’t leave it there.

“So,” he began, his tone mischievous as always, “tell me… what happened with that boy? The one you left us for? You know, the one who made you think settling down was a good idea, all doe-eyed and dreamy?

The question hit her like a splash of cold water. Memories rushed back, unbidden, vivid and sharp. That boy. The boy. She could still see his face, hear his laugh, and feel how easy it had been to let her guard down with him. And she remembered just as vividly how that had been her downfall. The trust she’d given so freely, the love she’d thought was unshakable—it had all come apart like a house of cards in a storm.

She didn’t respond right away, instead reaching for the bottle of rum and taking a long swig, letting the burn of the alcohol drown out the ache that wanted to settle in her chest. Only when she’d numbed it enough did she hand the bottle back to Tallen.

“He was a pirate,” she said simply, her voice steady but laced with a bitterness she couldn’t quite hide.

Tallen took the bottle from her, his brow furrowing slightly as he took his own drink. He let the silence hang for a beat before muttering, “Fucking pirates.”

Y/N let out a soft, humorless laugh, her lips quirking upward just slightly. “Yeah. Fucking Pirates.”

The two fell quiet again, the weight of her words settling between them. Tallen didn’t press further—he didn’t need to. They both knew there were some stories better left in the past, especially on a night like this...

Y/N kept her gaze fixed on the water as it slipped and swirled around her feet, her toes wiggling absently in the cool waves. A quiet sigh escaped her as her thoughts drifted to a time when seeing her toes had been a rare occurrence—back when she didn’t need feet at all. The memory tugged at her, bittersweet and heavy.

“Do you ever miss… swimming?” she asked softly, her voice carrying a subtle edge, as though the question itself might shatter the fragile peace of the moment. But that wasn’t really what she wanted to ask. What she meant to say was, Do you ever miss your tail?

Tallen glanced at her, the unspoken meaning behind her words not lost on him. His fingers idly traced the rim of the bottle, his eyes flickered to the water. He didn’t answer immediately. For a moment, the ever-present charm and humor he wore like armor fell away, revealing something quieter, something raw.

“Of course I do,” he said at last, his voice low but steady. “It’s part of who I am. No matter how much I try to forget it—or hide it. I miss it every damn day.”

The words hit Y/N harder than she expected, though they echoed her own thoughts. She nodded faintly, her fingers brushing the edge of the dock as if trying to touch the memories she’d buried beneath the waves.

“Sometimes, I dream about it,” she admitted, her voice almost a whisper. “The feeling of the current, the water rushing past me. It’s like… I can still feel it, but when I wake up, it’s gone. And I realize it’s been gone for a long time.”

Tallen let out a low sigh, opening another bottle and taking a gulp before setting it down between them.

“We didn’t have a choice,” he said, his voice heavier now, laced with something darker. “They left us no choice. Staying in the water… staying as we were… it was a death sentence. Out here, at least, we have a chance. Even if it’s not the life we wanted.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat tightening as memories surged forward—the fear, the endless swimming, the loss of those who couldn’t escape. The oceans, once their sanctuary, had become a hunting ground, a place where survival meant running and hiding. Becoming human hadn’t been freedom; it had been desperation.

“I hate it sometimes,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “I hate that we had to choose this... to give up what we were just to live. I hate that I don’t feel safe, not here, not in the water. Nowhere.”

Tallen’s gaze softened, and he reached out, his hand resting gently on hers. “We didn’t choose this, Y/N. I know it's not the life we knew, but it’s a life we can make ours. Even if we have to fight for it every step of the way.”

Y/N took another long drink from the bottle, letting the burn of the rum cut through the ache in her chest. She handed it back to him with a faint, tired smile. “It’s not fair,”

“No, it’s not,” Tallen agreed quietly, his voice tinged with a sadness he rarely let show. “But we’re still here. They didn’t get us. And as long as we’re still breathing, there’s a chance. Maybe not now, maybe not soon, but one day… one day, we’ll stop running.”

Y/N let his words sink in, her toes wiggling again as if testing the water beneath them. She wanted to believe him, to believe there was a day when the fear would fade and they could slip back into the waves without a second thought.

The two bottles of rum were emptied far too quickly, its warmth fading as the night deepened. The distant hum of the restaurant voices grew softer, replaced by the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the ship. The world seemed quieter, heavier, as though the night itself was reluctant to let them go.

Y/N let her feet dip deeper into the water, as if the sea itself could somehow anchor her to this moment, to Tallen, to the sense of familiarity and belonging she always felt in his presence. But reality was already creeping back in, tugging at the edges of her mind.

Tallen stretched his legs, giving the empty bottle a casual toss to the side of the dock, his usual bravado masking the heaviness in the air. “

Guess that’s it, huh?” he said, his tone light, but his eyes betrayed the same reluctance she felt.

“Yeah,” Y/N replied softly, her gaze fixed on the water below. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to face the inevitability of parting ways again. But she knew she couldn’t stay. Neither of them could. “Out of rum, out of time,”

They sat there for a moment longer, both pretending they didn’t know what was coming next. But the truth was impossible to ignore. This wasn’t just a goodbye—it was a question they’d both have to carry if fate allowed them another meeting: Are they still alive?

Tallen finally stood, brushing his hands on his pants before offering one to Y/N to help her up.

“Guess we should leave it here,” he said, his voice steady but strained. “For now.”

Y/N took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. She met his gaze, her own eyes shining with unspoken words.

“For now,” she echoed softly, her lips quirking into a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

He slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a brief, tight hug. “Take care of yourself, alright?” he said, his tone firm, almost commanding. “And don’t get into too much trouble.”

Y/N chuckled weakly, patting his chest as she pulled back. “You know me. Trouble follows, I just try to be faster.”

Tallen smirked, but it faded quickly. He hesitated for a moment, then turned toward the docks, his footsteps heavy as he began to walk away. Y/N stayed behind, watching his silhouette disappear into the shadows of the fish-ship.

She took a deep breath, letting the sea air fill her lungs, then exhaled slowly. The weight of the question lingered in her chest as she turned back toward the Going Merry. She didn’t know when—or if—she’d see him again. But for now, she had to keep moving. Because life didn’t allow for anything else.

Sirens, as creatures of the sea, naturally possess a higher tolerance for alcohol compared to humans. Their bodies, adapted to handle the intoxicating effects of fermented underwater plants and other potent marine brews, metabolize alcohol far more efficiently. That said, even a Siren wasn’t immune to the occasional tipsy stumble after two entire bottles of rum.

Y/N didn’t realize how tipsy she actually was until she began her walk back to the Going Merry, her steps wobbling as if the ground beneath her were swaying like the ocean waves. Each step was a battle to steady herself, but instead of frustration, she giggled to herself and began humming a tune, one she hadn’t even realized she’d made up on the spot.

By some miracle (or sheer luck), she managed to make it to the Going Merry without falling into the water.

“Absolutely magnifico!” she declared with a dramatic flourish as she boarded the ship.

With a triumphant grin, Y/N made her way inside, her mind now fixated on finding something sweet to snack on. Her thoughts were a delightful jumble of candy, cookies, and maybe even fruit if it was sugary enough. But before she could raid the pantry, she collided headlong into Nami, who looked positively furious.

“Woah! You okay, pumpkin?” Y/N slurred, placing a hand on Nami’s arm with a warm, lopsided smile.

Nami shoved her hand off, glaring at her with a sharpness that sobered Y/N just slightly. “Where the hell were you, Y/N?”

Blinking in surprise, Y/N tilted her head, her hazy mind trying to process the sudden shift in tone. “I… uh… wait, what happened?”

Nami’s glare intensified, her voice rising with frustration. “What happened is that Zoro is a massive idiot and is going to get himself killed!”

Before Y/N could fully process what Nami had just said, the navigator spun on her heel and stormed off, her footsteps echoing down the hall as she headed to her room.

Y/N stood there, swaying slightly as she tried to make sense of what she’d just heard.

“What…?” she muttered to herself, her voice tinged with confusion as she rubbed her temple. “What did I miss now?”

Y/N made her way into the kitchen, her footsteps lighter than usual thanks to her still tipsy state. The room was quieter than expected, and as her eyes adjusted, she took in the scene: a not-so-smiley Luffy—weird— Usopp, drunk yet clearly worried. And then there was the star of the night—Zoro—calmly cleaning his swords at the table, his expression as unreadable as ever.

As she walked in, all eyes turned to her. Well, almost all eyes. Luffy and Usopp looked at her directly, but Zoro merely spared her a quick glance before returning to polishing one of his blades.

“Y/N—” Luffy began, his voice unusually low, but she cut him off before he could finish.

“What’s this I heard about you getting yourself killed, hotshot?” she asked, her tone a mix of teasing and genuine curiosity as she made her way to the pantry, her mission for something sweet still very much a priority.

For a moment, the kitchen was silent, save for the faint sound of Zoro’s whetstone sliding against his sword. And then, as if it were nothing more than casual conversation, Zoro answered, his tone calm and steady: “I challenged Dracule Mihawk to a duel to the death. I’ll defeat him and become the greatest swordsman in the world.”

Y/N froze mid-reach, her hand hovering over a jar of honey. Slowly, she turned her head toward him, blinking as if she couldn’t quite believe what she’d just heard. That name—Dracule Mihawk—was familiar. Too familiar. The kind of name you didn’t just forget. Wasn’t he…? No, it couldn’t be. She must’ve heard wrong. Surely, she must have.

So, she laughed. A loud, disbelieving tipsy laugh, grinning as though he’d just told her the best joke of the year.

“Oh, that’s funny,” she said, straightening up and giving Zoro a bemused grin. “For a second there, I thought you said Dracule Mihawk. You know, the Mihawk, Warlord of the Sea."

Zoro didn’t even flinch. He continued cleaning his sword, his face completely devoid of humor as he replied, “Yeah, that one.”

Y/N continued to chuckle, shaking her head as she pulled the jar of honey from the pantry. “No, it’s not,”

“It is,” Usopp mumbled, his words slurred with worry.

Y/N stopped mid-motion, the jar of honey held loosely in her hands. She blinked, her tipsy mind still not fully processing the weight of the situation. Turning to Zoro, she found him looking at her, his expression unreadable, saying nothing. That, more than anything, made her stomach tighten.

With a sharp exhale, she marched to the table and all but slapped the jar of honey down, the sound sharp enough to make Usopp flinch. In that single second, the remnants of her drunken haze evaporated. Sobriety hit her like a wave, and her playful grin was gone.

She stared at Zoro with a hard, unyielding glare, the kind that could cut through stone.

“You’re joking,” she said flatly, her voice carrying the kind of edge that dared him to confirm her hopes. When he didn’t respond, her eyes narrowed as she took a step closer. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, Zoro.”

Luffy, of all people, chimed in, his tone oddly serious—too serious for someone who is usually a ray of walking sunshine.

Y/N blinked, looking between Luffy and Zoro, trying to wrap her head around what was being said.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she started, raising a hand as if trying to stop the flood of insanity pouring into the room. “You’re telling me you actually challenged Dracule Mihawk? As in the Warlord of the Sea? The guy who could probably split this fucking sodding ship in half just for fun?”

Zoro glanced up at her briefly, his gaze calm but resolute.

“It’s what I have to do,” he said simply, his tone devoid of fear or hesitation. “If I want to be the greatest swordsman in the world, I have to beat him. That’s the only way.”

Y/N stared at him in stunned silence, her lips parted as she tried to find the words. Her anger faltered for a moment, replaced by something deeper—concern, frustration, maybe even fear.

“Zoro, you can’t just—” she started, but her voice faltered. She straightened up, running a hand through her hair as she stepped back. Her gaze flicked to Luffy and Usopp, searching for some semblance of support. Luffy, however, remained silent, his eyes distant, while Usopp looked sick.

Finally, Y/N let out a frustrated laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Unbelievable. You’re all just going to let him go through with this? No one’s going to stop him?”

“Can’t stop him,” Luffy said simply, his tone carrying a note of quiet acceptance. “This is his dream.”

Y/N’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she stared at Zoro again, disbelief and frustration radiating off her in waves. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. As someone who had always fought tooth and nail for survival, it was utterly maddening to see someone willingly dive headfirst into danger like this.

“Zoro, please,” she said, her tone softer now, though the tension in her voice was clear. “Think about it for a second. I know you want this—I know how much it means to you—but this is insane. You’re already an amazing swordsman—”

“But not the best,” Zoro interrupted, his voice calm but resolute. His focus on his blade never wavered as he continued polishing it. “Not yet. Not until I defeat Mihawk.”

Y/N blinked, her chest tightening as his words sank in. She shook her head in disbelief, her voice rising slightly as she took a step closer. “Are you seriously so willing to throw your life away over a title? Is that all this is to you? Just a damn title?”

Zoro finally looked up, his gaze meeting hers with unyielding determination. “It’s not just a title. It’s everything I’ve trained for. Everything I’ve worked for. If I don’t take this chance, then what’s the point?”

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She searched his expression for any hint of hesitation, of doubt, but found none. He wasn’t going to change his mind. She knew that, even before she asked.

“You’re... not changing your mind, are you?” she asked, her voice quieter now, almost defeated.

“You already know the answer to that,” Zoro replied simply.

“Fine,” she said, her voice cold and clipped, her tone like a sharp edge. "Go get yourself fucked up."

Zoro didn’t flinch, his focus already back on his blade. “Noted,”

Y/N scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips as she grabbed the jar of honey. She cast one last glare at the back of Zoro’s head, her frustration boiling just beneath the surface, before spinning on her heel and leaving the room without another word.

The jar of honey felt heavier in her hand than it should have, and as she made her way back to her corner of the ship, she couldn’t help but mutter under her breath, “Unbelievable. Reckless, stubborn fool...”

But no matter how angry she was, a part of her couldn’t shake the worry that gnawed at the edges of her mind. As much as she hated to admit it, she cared. And that made this all the more infuriating.

Hours passed, the tension on the Going Merry as thick as the salty sea air around it. Y/N had spent most of that time pacing, her nerves fraying with every passing minute. And now, much to her growing nervousness—and, if she were honest with herself, outright unhappiness—she found herself walking alongside Zoro to the docks of the Baratie with Luffy and Usopp, Nami was nowhere to be found and Y/N had no mind for that the moment.

The swordsman, as usual, was calm and steady, his expression unreadable, as if he were merely heading to run a simple errand rather than walking straight into a duel with one of the most dangerous men alive. Y/N, on the other hand, was barely keeping it together. Despite her earlier words, despite knowing Zoro’s mind was set, she couldn’t help herself.

“Zoro,” she said, her tone tinged with desperation, as she hurried to match his stride. “This doesn’t have to be today, you know. You could wait. Train more. Build yourself up first. Mihawk’s not going anywhere—he’ll still be terrifying tomorrow, or next week, or next year!”

“I’ve waited long enough,” he said simply, his tone steady and resolute.

Y/N groaned, throwing her hands up in frustration. “You’re impossible! You know that, right? Utterly impossible. It’s like you’ve got a death wish baked into that stubborn head of yours.”

He didn’t respond, his focus already ahead, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of one of his swords. His silence only fueled her exasperation.

“Zoro, listen,” she pressed, her voice softer now as she stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop. “You have nothing to prove. Not to me, not to the crew, not to anyone. You’re already one of the best I’ve ever seen—no one would blame you for waiting until the odds were... I don’t know, less suicidal?”

Zoro looked down at her, his dark eyes meeting hers, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his gaze. But it wasn’t doubt or hesitation—it was determination, pure and unwavering.

“I didn’t come this far to stop now,” he said firmly. “If I can’t face him, then I don’t deserve to be the best.”

Y/N stared at him, her mouth opening to argue, but the words caught in her throat. What could she say to that? What could she say to someone who was so determined to chase their dream, even if it killed them?

Y/N rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath as they reached the docks. The sight of the Baratie's empty deck and the looming presence of the infamous Dracule Mihawk in the distance made her stomach twist. She didn’t say anything else as they walked, but the tension in her chest only grew heavier with every step.

"Monkey D. Luffy," Mihawk drawled, his deep voice carrying easily over the sound of the waves. Y/N blinked in surprise, her gaze shifting to the warlord as he kept his piercing eyes locked on the boy. She followed Mihawk's line of sight, landing on Luffy, who—of course—was smiling. Smiling? Y/N thought in disbelief. She could never understand him. If a Warlord of the Sea so much as glanced in her direction, she’d have been halfway across the ocean by now.

“I’m surprised the Marines would require my services for such a small package,” Mihawk continued, his tone tinged with a subtle mockery that sent chills down Y/N’s spine. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes lingering on the Straw Hat. “Though I do like your hat…”

“Enough,” Zoro cut him off, his voice steady as he stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the warlord with unwavering resolve. “Let’s begin.”

Y/N gulped, her stomach twisting into knots as she watched Mihawk calmly remove the cross-shaped pendant from around his neck. For a moment, she was confused—was this some kind of pre-duel ritual?—but her confusion turned to disbelief when the man revealed the pendant to be a hidden blade. A tiny hidden blade.

Mihawk pulled the long part free, revealing a small knife, barely larger than a dagger. Y/N’s jaw nearly dropped. What the hell was that? She wasn’t the only one who thought so.

“What is that? I’m here for a sword fight,” Zoro deadpanned, his tone flat but edged with disbelief as he took in the Warlord’s weapon.

Mihawk didn’t flinch, his expression unreadable save for the faintest glint of amusement in his golden eyes.

“I don’t hunt rabbits with a cannon,” he replied almost mockingly, holding the tiny blade with an air of casual confidence.

Zoro, however, remained unshaken. He pulled out his two swords, their blades gleaming in the sunlight as he took a defensive stance. His voice was steady, firm, and filled with resolve. “I’m no rabbit.”

Mihawk pointed his small blade at Zoro, the move almost lazy in its precision. “That remains to be seen,” he said smoothly.

The tension between them hung thick in the air, a moment so charged that Y/N felt like she could hardly breathe. The world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them, predator and challenger, locked in an unspoken battle of wills before a single strike had even been made.

And then, Zoro moved.

With a burst of speed, he ran straight toward the Warlord, his swords raised and his expression fierce with determination. The fight had begun.

The fight was a blur for Y/N, but one thing was painfully clear—Mihawk had the upper hand from the very start. Every move Zoro made was effortlessly countered, every strike easily dodged or deflected as though the Warlord was swatting away a pesky fly.

Y/N’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a shriek when Mihawk drove the small dagger into Zoro’s chest. Her fingers dug into Luffy’s arm as she squeezed tightly, her own breath catching at the sheer ruthlessness of the moment. When Mihawk finally unsheathed his massive blade, Yoru, Y/N grimaced, her stomach twisting with dread.

And then, as Zoro’s swords crumbled under the sheer power of Mihawk’s strike, Y/N couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her lips. Her eyes widened in shock as Zoro, instead of backing down, willingly let himself be slashed across the chest, standing tall even in defeat. The scene left her frozen, torn between awe at his resolve and fear for his life.

"Zoro!" Luffy shouted, his voice raw with emotion as the green-haired swordsman collapsed to the ground.

Without a second thought, Y/N bolted toward him, her heart pounding in her chest. She dropped to her knees beside Zoro, her hands hovering over him, unsure of where to even start.

There it was—a massive, long, bloodied slash stretching across his chest, from one shoulder to the opposite side. The sight of it made her stomach drop. Her breath hitched as she pressed a trembling hand to her mouth.

"Oh, shit… Zoro," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her own heart.

Monkey D. Luffy," Mihawk called out, his voice laced with a faint trace of curiosity. His sharp gaze settled on the boy, as if measuring him. "What’s your goal?"

"I’m going to become the King of the Pirates," Luffy replied, his tone uncharacteristically serious, his eyes unwavering.

"King of the Pirates, hmm?" Mihawk repeated, a flicker of intrigue crossing his otherwise stoic expression. "That’s a far more perilous path than even defeating me."

Luffy didn’t flinch. Instead, he turned to glare at the Warlord, his resolve shining through. "I don’t care," he said firmly. "It’s what I’m going to do."

Mihawk regarded him in silence for a moment, as though he were assessing something beyond words. Then, with a faint hum of approval, he nodded slightly.

"Maybe you will at that," he said, his tone carrying an unusual note of respect, "This world could use a few more wild cards."

Mihawk turned his piercing gaze away from Luffy, letting it fall to the green-haired swordsman lying on the ground, blood pooling beneath him. “Roronoa Zoro,” he said, his voice calm but commanding. “It’s too soon for you to die. Grow strong and come find me. I’ll be waiting.”

With that, and much to Y/N’s immense relief, Dracule Mihawk turned and walked away, disappearing into the distance.

Usopp hurried to kneel next to Y/N and Luffy, his face pale as he took in the sheer amount of blood pouring from Zoro’s chest.

“He’s losing so much blood,” Usopp said, his voice shaking with panic.

“He’s gonna be okay,” Luffy said firmly, though the determination in his voice couldn’t quite mask the crack of worry underneath.

“Hey, Zoro,” Y/N leaned closer, her voice trembling but insistent as she gently touched his cheek. “Can you hear me? Come on, hotshot, don’t do this.”

Luffy’s voice was softer now, he was smiling but his voice was filled with quiet resolve. “He said it’s too soon for you to die."

Zoro, lying in a pool of his own blood, let out a groan, his voice strained and heavy with pain. Every word sounded like it hurt to speak, but still, he forced them out. "Luffy... if I fail to become the world’s greatest swordsman… you’ll be disappointed. Right?"

Luffy immediately shook his head, his voice firm and unwavering. "You could never fail me,"

"Never… again. From now… until I beat him…" Summoning his last reserves of energy, Zoro gritted his teeth and unsheathed Wado Ichimonji, the sword trembling in his bloodied hand. He raised it weakly, his arm barely steady. "To become the greatest swordsman… I will never lose again!"

Y/N pursed her lips, worry etched into every line of her face as she watched Zoro’s arm falter. The sword slipped from his grip, clattering to the ground as his body went limp. He was out.

"Zoro?" Luffy’s voice broke slightly as he leaned closer, shaking the unconscious swordsman. "Zoro?! Zoro!"

"Luffy, stop!" Y/N grabbed Luffy’s arm, her voice sharp but tinged with worry. Her grip was firm, her eyes locking onto his with a quiet urgency. "Shaking him won’t help."

Luffy froze, his hands trembling as he pulled back slightly. Y/N turned to Nami, who was hovering just behind them, her face pale with concern and her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"We need to get him inside," Y/N said, her tone steady but urgent as she glanced between Nami, Usopp and Luffy. She pressed her lips together, her mind racing. "Now!"

They all nodded quickly, their hands moving instinctively to help as they began the careful process of lifting Zoro, doing everything they could to keep him stable. The tension in the air was palpable, but Y/N’s focus remained on the task at hand, suppressing the storm of worry swirling in her chest.

They couldn’t lose him. Not here. Not like this.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Lots of love. Be safe.

Also, tell me if you want to get tagged.

Divider by @cafekitsune

Tags: @weirdowithaphone

55 notes · View notes

chantersboard · 1 day ago

Text

560 words. Joel x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, post-outbreak, unprotected piv, creampie, one warning not tagged for spoilers

A/N: so my New Year’s resolution was to stop All or Nothing-ing. not everything I write has to be completely polished and 5K long. there is so much I want to write but I’m a full time working mom of two I don’t have the time to always write fully fleshed out, edited stuff. so I’m giving up on doing it All. I’ll write the small stuff and be happy for it. so here’s my first small stuff yay

———

Confession

Joel sits on the edge of the bed, his large hands resting on your hips as you stand between his legs.

Your confession still hangs heavy in the air like a cloud of fatal spores.

He looks up at you and you’re unsure how to interpret the subtle emotion on his face. Sadness? Fear? Joy? It’s impossible to tell and he hasn’t said anything yet.

Why hasn’t he said anything yet?

You shuffle on your feet. Nervous. Anxious. Scared. The tiny ball of nausea in the pit of your stomach grows larger with each second that passes in silence.

Joel closes his eyes and presses his forehead against you. Your hands move on their own, instinctually, and you run your fingers through his hair. He inhales deeply and shakes his head.

Shit. This is it, isn’t it?

It was bound to happen eventually. The cold weather forced you inside, forced you within these cramped walls and into his space. Then the snow fell, and continued to fall, extending your imprisonment. So you had no choice but to listen to Joel’s honeyed words. You had no choice but to look at his handsome face and watch his strong body. You had no choice but to desperately fall in love with him.

A hand lingering too long on the small of your back turned into frantic grabs of your behind. A gentle kiss on the cheek turned into love bites that left your nipples deliciously sore.

When he slotted into you he fit so perfectly, as if he was made for you, and you willingly spread your legs further. You let him kiss you until your lips were swollen. You let him get lost inside you until your pleasure crested and you were screaming his name. You let his hips rock against yours until his breathing was haggard, until he choked out those few words: where do you want it?

In your fucked out bliss you tightened your thighs around him and gave him permission. “Inside,” you moaned. And Joel didn’t think twice, didn’t hesitate. He slammed into you until his cock twitched, coating your warm, fertile walls with his come.

For weeks the nights ended similarly, his release seeping out of you and soaking the bed sheets, until the snow outside began to melt and the days grew longer. For weeks you lived like this, your days carefree and your nights filled with love and euphoria.

Until one day you suddenly realized.

Joel moves his hand from your hip and slowly—so slowly—brings it to the spot just under your belly button.

“So last week,” his voice is low and you strain to hear him. “When you were sick…”

The nausea rolls in your stomach again and, afraid to open your mouth to talk, you hum in affirmation to his unfinished question.

His thumb draws small gentle circles on your tummy. As far as he can tell you look the same, but he knows somewhere inside you a life grows.

“After Sarah I didn’t think…” he looks up at you again, his eyes glossy with unshed tears. “I love you.”

You smile and let loose a shaky breath.

Just maybe everything will be okay?

Joel wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. He kisses your belly, then, with his lips still pressed against you he mumbles, “and I love you, too.”

#joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us #chantersboardwritessometimes #joel miller smut

53 notes · View notes

thiccpersonality · 8 hours ago

Text

5 Times Bruce Was Protective of His Pups (+2 Times They Were Protective of Him)

2: The Gala

Bruce doesn't really like parties, he's not prone to throwing them nor is he likely to go to them, especially with all the loudness, the music and...the people. Which is quite redundant to say as a party is made up of people--anyway, Bruce hates parties, more specifically: useless parties around people he either doesn't know or doesn't like-and for what? Just to watch and wait as the guests flock around him like birds to a lone breadcrumb? Just to wait on them to kiss his ass?

Plus, the omega doesn't need parties when he's got his hands full with a loud one named Jason, and in Bruce's unbiased opinion, his new pup is the best party he's ever witnessed.

An excited yip pulls Bruce from his brooding, the displeased scrunch of his brow smoothing out to look relaxed, his frown turning up to a happy smile at the sight of Jason posing in his new suit. "How do I look, B? Good you say? I know. Thank you." A humored rumble escapes from Bruce's throat, the sight of the pup's messily done tie causing the omega to frown and pull Jason closer to him. "You do look good, very good, great even. Your tie is just-" Bruce raises a brow at small teeth gently digging into his fingers, Jason growling in a way that he thinks is intimidating, but in fact is just adorably soft and squeaky...like a puppy trying to bark for the first time.

"But Alfred said I could tie it on my own. And I thought you said I looked good?"

At Jason's imploring look, Bruce just sighs softly in defeat. "Yes, very good, great even is what I said-"

Jason smiles and interrupts the omega again, nuzzling into the other's chest and looking up at him with satisfied baby blue's. "So...were you lying to me, mom?"

Those two words seem to do the trick for Bruce, the omega melting at the cute display and nuzzling his pup's head and neck. "No...I wasn't lying to you. You look really good, and I mean that. Your tie isn't bad at all-" he pulls away to look at the tie, beating down his instincts to clean the messy loops up in favor of smiling at it-"it just has character."

Jason gives a toothy smile and puffs his chest out proudly while patting the tie.

"His name is Rick Astley."

Bruce can't help but to chuckle in surprise at the name, "You mean...like the singer, Rick Astley?" At Jason's enthusiastic nod, he decides to give the pup what he wants and ask him why choose that name. "And of all the names you could choose, you chose Rick becaaaause?"

"Because I never gave up on this tie!"

Jason smiles happily at the genuine laugh he pulls from the usually stoic omega-his mom. "I thought you'd like that one! I've been working on that since I asked to tie this thing myself. I'll be here on Thursdays." Bruce covers his mouth with his hand to hide his smile, it's something he always feels embarrassed about, especially as he's used to fake smiling anyway...he never expected to laugh this much when adopting children. "So, you'll only be here on Thursdays? I thought you liked this place enough to stay with me?"

Even though it's just a joke, Jason can't help but to get defensive at the mere thought of leaving Bruce's side, the death of his biological mother still too fresh in his mind and causing him to hug onto the omega's leg tightly. "I love it! I feel safe here and no one can take me away!"

The slightly distressed scent coming from Jason causes Bruce to churr softly, the sound immediately causing the younger to slump in relief, the boy's eyes closing at the feeling of fingers gently gliding through his hair. "Shh~ I know, Jay, I know. No one could ever take you away...I wouldn't allow it, you hear me?" A small knock on his bedroom door causes Bruce to sigh softly, "We'll be right out, Alfred-" he stops to turn to Jason, fixing his pup's hair one last time and holding back a smile at the child's displeased grumble at being doted on-"Are you sure that you're ready? You don't have to go out there if you aren't comfortable yet."

It's been something gone unspoken all evening, but Bruce knows Jason is nervous to go out there to people who are nothing like him. Especially as they are the same people who would turn their noses up at the sight of kids like Jay, thinking they are better than them just cause they have lavish lives and the money to flaunt around whenever, that's something the omega knows his pup has been cautious about ever since he told the boy he's hosting an event.

And it's with humor and corny jokes that the pup has been hiding behind this whole time, all to not let Bruce know just how scared this is making him.

Jason-as per usual-just smiles wide and straightens his suit jacket with small, clammy hands. "What? You just want to keep me all to yourself? I was born ready, B. Let's go!" Bruce watches his pup slip out the door and immediately show Alfred his tie with pride, desiring to desperately answer, 'yes', he wants to keep his baby all to himself because he's selfish and desperate in the presence of Jason's mischievous grins and sincere laughs, that he's greedy for that piece of light in his life. So desperate that he wants to hoard it all to himself like a dragon with its most prized treasure.

Because, if Bruce feels like he doesn't deserve a son like Jason, he knows that none of those suck ups out there deserve to even be anywhere near Jason's innocence.

————°————

Lois looks at her wristwatch impatiently for the thousandth time in a row, causing Clark to sigh exasperatedly at his friend. "Lo, no matter how many times you glance at the time, it won't make it go by any faster."

The female omega clicks her tongue impatiently, "No duh! But maybe if I do, our very special host might appear quicker?" She glances at her watch once more, looking back up expectantly towards the staircase. "Has he arrived yet? Do you see him, Kent? Why is he even taking this long-" Clark opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by Lois answering her own question-"I bet it's a power move, huh? He's doing this to show how we wait for him and not the other way around. Rich kids, am I right?"

Clark pushes up his glasses to distract himself from covering up the woman's mouth, his ears flushing in embarrassment on Lois's behalf at the socialites that look their way for her outburst.

"Shh! Be a little more quiet when...stating your opinion, maybe? And Mr. Wayne is only taking so long because he's introducing his new pup tonight, you know how protective he was about Richard Grayson. Why wouldn't he be about this one?" Lois softens at the mention of Bruce's eldest child, "Oh yeah...I forgot about that. Do you think this kid will be just as cute as the other one? I've heard some speculators say that this new pup looks similar to Bruce and Richard, they are convinced that our gracious omega host is the one actually giving birth to these pups himself and he just doesn't remember who the father is."

"Lois-" Clark grumbles in displeasure at the piece of gossip, doing his best to keep the alpha out of his tone-"Those are just rumors and gossip as far as you know--and, I don't want to hear about how 'I know his reputation'. Someone that dedicated to their kids surely doesn't sleep around that much."

At his friend's prolonged silence, he turns to look at her, blushing red at the raised brow he gets. "I-I mean...not saying that he can't not sleep around. I just-"

Lois snorts and pats Clark on the back, "Stop putting your foot in your mouth. You're up to the heel. And I get what you're saying, okay? I was only stating what I read and heard from different people, and despite how harsh I was with Bruce at first, after seeing him with his family...I don't believe those rumors anymore."

Clark rolls his eyes, "By: 'after seeing him with family,' do you actually mean, 'when I saw how the papers don't do his face justice?' That was when you started to not believe the rumors?"

Lois's impish smile is answer enough for Clark, the beta simply sighing the woman's name in exasperated fondness.

The two turn back to looking in anticipation at the staircase, Clark slowly frowning at realizing how casually Lois referred to Bruce, what is that about? But before he can turn to ask her about it, the crowd of reporters push ahead of them at the sight of Bruce Wayne, their cameras flashing and voices rising as they each try to get the omega's attention, Lois shouting above all of them towards Jimmy. "Push harder, Olsen, harder! Get the good spot!"

"Aaand I lost her." Clark watches as Lois claws her way to Jimmy's side, helping the timid beta make his way to the very front.

That's fine. Clark will patiently wait his turn until things are calmed down enough for him to approach Bruce without the fear of being pushed around...of course he can't be hurt, but the thought of accidentally hurting someone with his super strength stresses him out, so waiting the eager reporters out it is.

Luckily enough, the crowd seems to have learned some sort of lesson from the last incident when they startled the omega in the desperation to catch pictures of his new pup, the photographers standing at a decent enough distance as they snap their pic's, their eyes practically shining at the sight of the small pup holding onto Bruce's hand and curiously lifting his head to sniff out who exactly is in the crowd. Everyone grows quiet at the omega's protective glare being shot to the crowd, a tingle shooting down Clark's spine at the feeling of déjà vu the look gives him.

Bruce ignores the loud click of the cameras as he bends down to whisper to the pup, his voice a soothing rumble. "Jay, do you want me to introduce you?"

Jason squeezes onto the warm hand in his own cool one's, stepping out from Bruce's side with a wide smile, his hands lifting to rest on his hips as he uses all the confidence he witnesses his mom having to lift up his nose to the sky as if he owns the place, as if he belongs here around everyone else. "Nice to meetcha folks! I'm Jason Peter Todd!" The crowd goes silent before pushing forward slightly to ask Jason questions, the pup posing for the cameras while Bruce looks on in a mix of fondness, pride and worry, he still doesn't trust the media fully after all these years.

Vicki Vale manages to push herself forward at the same time Lois Lane does, the two glaring at each other before turning to smile at Jason sweetly.

"A word from you Mr. Todd?"

Lois taps her foot impatiently at Vicki beating her to the request, the boy turning to them and sniffing at them curiously. "They put ya in a suit and suddenly you are known as Mr-" the pup holds his hand up in a 'wait' gesture, tugging on his suit and clearing his throat-"Please, ladies, Mr was my father. Call me Jason...or cute, I wouldn't mind the latter from you beauties."

Vicki and Lois look at each other humored, both remembering their professionalism even though they wish to ask the boy exactly who his father is.

"Well, these beauties definitely wouldn't mind having a word with you-" Lois looks up at Bruce with a relaxed smile-"that is...if your mom wouldn't mind us asking you a couple questions? I'm sure...Ms. Vale and I can share you for a couple minutes? Again, if Mr. Wayne doesn't mind?" Jason looks excited at the thought of talking to them, a questioning call slipping from his throat to easily catch Bruce's attention, the omega responding with his own answering chirp. "Jason? What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

The boy nods quickly, causing his waves to bounce wildly around on his head despite how many times Bruce has tried to smooth it down to something tameable. "They wanna ask me questions, can I go with them?"

Bruce stands next to his son's side, placing his hands gently on the small shoulders as he nods his head in greeting of the two women. "Vicki, Lois, it's nice to see you both here tonight-" his eyes rove over the women distrustfully, even though he knows he can trust these two with his pup, he still can't help the protective instincts that come about whenever anyone is near his kids-"I'm glad you could make it. You...want to ask him questions?"

Lois nods, "If you'll allow us to? I know you gotta make your rounds greeting everyone first, but, we were hoping to get a word from the new guy-" purple eyes search the room briefly before focusing back on Bruce-"Speaking of guys, where's Richard? The media would be eating him up about now, and I'm sure he could watch over Jason while we talk to him." The mention of the eldest Wayne causes Jason to pout, "He has these things called...responsibilities and obligations right now, for some reason? I asked him to come tonight but he's doing school stuff and 'friend' things right now."

Bruce chuckles at Jason quoting 'friends' and murmuring something about stupid older brother's, his hands gently fixing up the boy's hair as he speaks. "Well, Dickybird will be here for plenty future events, and do you really want him here right now? He would enjoy embarrassing you in front of everyone."

Jason blushes and bats Bruce's deft fingers away from his hair, "Yeah...just like you're doin' to me right now?" He grumbles in embarrassment, never knowing how to treat the omega's affections openly in front of other people, especially in this sort of crowd...he doesn't want them to think Bruce chose wrong when taking him off the streets, he just wants to prove how good he is and can be. "So, can I go with them or not? I can bring Alfie with me!" Bruce hesitates, sighing softly at the insistent tugging on his pant leg. "Pretty, pretty, pretty please!? With a Jason on top!"

Bruce raises an amused brow, "Why a Jason on top? You know it's usually cherry, right?"

The pup nods, "Cause you like me better than cherries. That's why."

Hm...he can't exactly argue with that. Bruce turns to find Alfred, holding back a shout as the alpha materializes from thin air right next to him, smiling softly at his son. "Don't worry, sir. I'll keep a good eye on the young Master for you, shall we head along?" Jason squeaks happily and kisses Bruce's hand in thanks before tugging Vicki and Lois along, loudly asking about how his tie looks as they take their conversation to the dessert table.

As soon as the small group leaves his side, Bruce inhales deeply, preparing himself for the vultures he already knows will flock to him like birds to a worm. Smiling charmingly at the cameras, even going so far as to blow a kiss at another.

"Mr. Wayne, what is your eldest son doing tonight!?"

"Mr. Wayne, how attached do you feel to tonights event!?"

"Mr. Wayne, who exactly are Richard and Jason's fathers? Are they biologically related or only half?"

"Mr. Wayne-"

Their voices start to blend together as the stupid questions start rolling in. Now that Lois and Vicki took the professionalism out the room with them, Bruce curses his fate as he's left with only the gossip hungry leeches, not headstrong people like Lane and Vale who actually care about their work and-

Bruce blinks away the spots in his vision from the bright flashes at the sight of a very tall, very imposing man-reporter, maybe?-that is patiently standing behind the rambunctious media.

Hm...his curiosity has been piqued.

Especially as something in his chest scratches in familiarity at the sight of this random reporter-or who he hopes is a reporter-and his lost puppy kind of look. There's something that is oddly endearing about this man and Bruce wants to find out why.

"Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, but I would like to talk to..." Bruce draws out his words, making a show of his 'indecisiveness' as he looks over the group of reporters, biting his lip in thought as he evaluates them all, slowly reaching further back in the group until his eyes land on his target."You! The man with the-" he squints his eyes at the sight of elbow patches, scrunching his nose in distaste at the sight of elbow patches, who the crap does that anymore?-"elbow patches."

Clark adjusts his glasses on his face nervously, a habit he's taken to over the years that he finds oddly comforting when he feels embarrassed about something.

"Uh...me?"

Bruce smiles, flashing a bit of his omegan fangs as he does so at the nerves radiating from this man, looking more like a predator with its prey rather than the thoughtful host Clark thought he was. "Yes, you. Don't look around for someone to replace you, I want you and only you. What? Do you not want to talk to me?"

Clark flushes red at the words, and from the way Mr. Wayne's eyes seem to pierce into his soul with how...icy they look. Not in a bad way, but the color makes Clark feel like every inhale is like breathing in a breath mint, maybe and Altoid due to the strength of it? Ah! When did the omega get so close to him? Clark does his best not to breath in the shorter man's alluring scent, his face growing redder at the interested sniff the omega directs at him. "Well?"

Right.

Mr. Wayne is deserving of an explanation...I guess?

"O-Of course it'd be delightful to speak to you, Mr. Wayne. Do you have somewhere more-"

Bruce pulls away from him suddenly with a surprised look, shaking his head softly and messing with his shirt cuffs with an amused smirk stretching his lips. "Metropolis...I should've known that's where you'd be from. Though the people there are usually more forward, aren't they?"

Clark's eyebrows furrow at the comment, what's wrong with Metropolis? But before he can answer the question, Bruce cuts him off again.

"Like one Ms. Lois Lane, for example. Though-" icy blue eyes rake up and down the tall figure, his eyes stopping at the press badge clipped to the fashion disaster that is...Clark Kent's suit-"I detect a hint of farm boy in your tone? So, maybe not from Metropolis?" Bruce presses in closer to try and catch a scent from Clark, casting aside his growing disappointment as the man doesn't smell like alpha as he suspected, just mothballs and innocence.

"Smallville."

Bruce looks up at the beta, immediately regretting it as he's met with the deepest blue gaze he thinks he's ever seen on a person, do eyes even get to be that color?

It feels as if Bruce is looking into the night sky...not that he knows what that's like, living in Gotham and all. But, if he could, he could imagine it being like this, the reflection of light in Clark's eyes reminding him of twinkling stars up above.

Bruce looks away suddenly, cursing the heated feeling in his ears and spreading to his cheeks, he hopes it's not visible? Though with how pale he is...he can't imagine hiding the blush.

Well, this is stupid.

Bruce feels like abandoning his self proclaimed mission at his own reaction towards Clark, though...there really is something familiar about the other man, and he can't place his carefully manicured nails on it.

Fine. He supposes he can bring out the bit of professionalism Brucie Wayne shows sometimes, only because he has no desire to tease the poor beta anymore and definitely not because he's feeling shy. "Right...I've...never been to Smallville before. Why don't we talk about it more this way." Clark startles at the hand gently wrapping around his elbow and tugging him over to French doors that lead to a balcony, looking over his shoulder as the omega quickly searches for someone and scents the air before stepping outside.

Clark relaxes himself and allows his senses to spread out, his nose twitching frantically to smell exactly what Bruce did.

Expensive colognes, sweet smelling perfumes, natural scents coming from both alpha, beta and omegas alike-ah, there it is! Something slightly milky with a hint of baby oil and spice, a pup that's trying to develop their own scent but still in the puppy stage.

"Your son-Jason, that is-seems really sweet."

Bruce's scent turns pleased at the compliment, releasing Clark's arm and turning to give him a genuine smile that is all proud mama. "He is! And he's very smart too, he enjoys reading books that not even I read at his age, I'm very honored to be his parent." Clark feels himself softening up at the genuineness on the omega's face, at the love in his tone, that feeling from before growing stronger for some reason at the other's affection towards Jason.

"So, Smallville?"

Clark pushes up his glasses and smiles, "Yup! It's a small town, but it's peaceful and has genuine people in it, s'more than I could ever ask for."

At Bruce's nose scrunching up again-a little trait Clark is quickly noticing about the other that he's finding adorable-he can't help but to question the man. "What? Did I say something funny? I don't think growing up in Smallville is that funny, farms may stink to high Heavens, but they sure are fun and teach you the importance of hard work."

Bruce shakes his head and covers his twitching lips with his hand, "No...your accent slipped and is just...amusing? But in a cute way! You said 's'more', aren't s'mores those little snacks you squish between your fingers?"

Now it's Clark that looks at Bruce like he said the funniest thing. "Are you being serious? You've never heard of a s'more?"

The omega rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, "Obviously I've heard of them. I wouldn't mention it if I've never heard of it, Kent, I was just making sure I had it right-" his brow twitches at the full blown smile the beta gives, coupled with a deep chuckle-"I don't think that's funny. If I can't laugh at your farm life, you can't laugh at me for not having a s'more. After all, it teaches you the importance of eating healthy foods."

The offended gasp escaping Clark's lips causes Bruce to look over his shoulder for what could have brought out that sound, the taller pulling out his recorder and waving it in his face.

"You've never eaten s'mores!? I think that's worse than never hearing of one! You mind if I interview you about this?" Bruce huffs at the defensive tone, his chest being tickled with humor at the other wanting to interview him about a snack he's never had before. "I don't think I mind? But, shouldn't you reporters be asking me about tonights event? Getting the reason for it and why I hosted this specific one? Don't your people usually poke at me about my kids?"

Clark sets down his recorder after switching it on, raising an inquiring brow at the omega. "Is me asking you questions about your family something that interests you? From what I gathered, you hated my people asking you about your pups, almost just as much as you get tired of hearing us ask you are you dating Batman."

At Bruce's irritated grumble, Clark smiles and gently guides the other closer to the tape recorder, not noticing just how much the simple touch effects the smaller man.

"Good evening Mr. Wayne, thank you for inviting me here tonight and accepting this interview. There have been some crazy rumors out there-" Clark has to pause to whisper to the other about not laughing, his heart pounding at the happy scent wafting from Bruce-"that you've never heard of s'mores. Would you care to clear those accusations up?"

Bruce sighs softly, not believing he's playing along with this, but clearing his throat and answering with all the seriousness he can muster into his voice.

"Yes, Mr. Kent, I would like to address those rumors about me...because they just aren't true. I have heard of s'mores before, it's just that I haven't ever eaten them." Clark hums, "Would you care to elaborate on why that is? Some people out there would think you never tasting it as worse than never knowing about it, what do you say to those people who could possibly feel that way?"

"Hm? Are one of those people from the Midwest? Cause if so, I'd tell him that there's worse things in this life than me not eating junk."

Clark's offended, 'hey', causes Bruce to grin. "Well, if there happened to be some lovely gentlemen from the Midwest who felt that way, I think he would politely disagree with you...even though you are technically right-" The word 'technically' causes Bruce to sputter, "What do you mean by that!? You just said you-I mean, this man 'technically' agrees with me by you stating I'm right. He's been around animal sh-poop for too long, it's causing him to spew crap from his mouth."

"Technically-" Clark smirks teasingly down at the smaller-"I said, technically. That's not out right admitting you are in the right."

Bruce narrows his eye at the taller man's beautifully smug smirk, "Do you not know what the word technically means? Technically: according to the facts or exact meaning of something; strictly. That's what that word means, so, 'technically' you and this Midwestern-ahem-gentleman are agreeing with me."

Clark freezes at that itching feeling returning to his mind, the scratching feeling of close familiarity this argument brings to him.

There's someone else he knows that takes simple jokes like this and turns them into mini battles, but-"Kent? Hellooo? Did a chicken escape the coop in there?"

Clark frowns at the omega shutting off his recorder, "Why did you turn that off? I was interviewing you."

Bruce holds the device in his hand, suddenly looking shy and embarrassed, his smile awkward as he fiddles with the metal tool. "Well, you were pausing for five seconds too long for an interview. And-" he glances away-"don't you think this was a bit silly of us? I'm not supposed to answer questions like this...no one even asks these kinds of things anyway, they're too...trivial for my work."

Clark steps closer to the omega, reaching out to grab the recorder from the shorter, finding himself daring enough to stay in the other's personal space while his hand rests in the smaller one. "Why is asking you about things you may enjoy trivial? Have you ever thought no one cares enough about the simple things you do? It makes you seem...more approachable, Mr. Wayne." Bruce feels like his heart is trying to fly out of his chest at how close they are, his cheeks growing a soft pink at the sincerity from the other. "I-I...I'm not usually supposed to be approachable, Mr. Kent. Not unless I want something."

Clark sucks in his gasp at how close Bruce's face is, it would be so easy to bend down and kiss those pink lips...but that wouldn't be professional, would it?

"And...what do you want from me, Mr. Wayne?"

At Bruce's shocked look, Clark gives a small smirk. "You didn't think I noticed you looking through the audience of determined reporters? I saw you already look at me before acting like you were indecisive about who you wanted to interview you. You were going to pick me the whole time."

Bruce purses his lips at being caught, though his inner omega is fascinated by how smart this potential mate random stranger is to notice such small details.

"What would Mr. Wayne say to the Midwestern man who wants to know what tonight's special host wants? Especially from a reporter trying to blend into the crowd."

Bruce can't help the entertained smile as-even though it's not turned on anymore-the recorder is pushed up to his mouth. "I...you were being still-" at the beta's intrigued look, he continues-"Do you know how rare it is to see someone who isn't trying to crawl all over someone else just to get the scoop on Bruce Thomas Wayne? You looked like the calm in the midst of a very bothersome, very loud storm, Mr. Kent. So...what I wanted was to...see who you are."

Clark stares down into icy blue eyes, being drawn further into the crystalline gaze, swallowing down the urge to call out to this wonderful omega with his own alpha and whispering softly instead.

"And did you find anything worth your time?"

Bruce's eyelashes flutter, "I did. You are a great conversationalist, Mr. Kent. If-if people from Smallville are anything like you, maybe it isn't so bad?"

The two seem to lean in closer to the other, their private bubble popping at the sound of boisterous laughter coming from inside. Bruce gasps and pulls away, both him and Clark blushing as the beta apologizes for being unprofessional, the whine being choked down the Wayne heir's throat from the loss of warmth as their hands separate.

Clark stands tall as the omega steps close again, his smile back to suave as he slips the recorder back into the suit pocket, his voice betraying how he actually feels as it's incredibly soft and hopeful. "You can keep this interview for yourself-" his finger taps the device now snug in Clark's front pocket-"And...maybe you can finish this interview at a better time? When I don't have to greet my guests, perhaps? I think I've kept them waiting on me long enough."

Lois's voice echoes in Clark's head about power moves and everything, his lips twitching up in amusement as he nods gently and leads the omega back inside.

————°————

Jason doesn't know how it's happened. One second he was being interviewed by two lovely women-his new friends-and then the next thing he knows he's somehow separated from them and doing his best to greet the guests while waiting for Bruce to return.

Luckily enough for him, there's been a nice group of high class attendees that waved him over, their sparkling jewelry catching the pups attention. "Looky here, ladies, we have a lovely gentleman in our midst. And isn't he the cutest thing you've ever seen?" Jason stands taller as the group of older women assess him, their lips stretching into fond smiles as they stare down at him. "My name is Margareta Hewley, young man, though I prefer Margaret, Marge or Greta cause my name sounds like the alcoholic drink-oh! I got off topic. I may have forgotten your name already...but what was it, Johnson?"

Jason goes to respond, but a middle-aged woman with sandy blonde hair interrupts him with a frantic hand wave.

"No, no, no. You've got it all wrong, Greta. He said his name was Jensen, isn't that right, honey? My name is Dahlia Nugat, though it sounds a lot like the thing you put in-between chocolate bars."

The group of women burst out into a loud laughter, Jason growing increasingly amused by these women and how silly they are and how they make fun of their names. "Nice to meet you, my name is Jason actually-" the women 'ah' as he kindly corrects them, causing Jason to giggle-"But it's okay! Everyone makes mistakes."

A brunette reaches down to pinch at his cheek, "Well aren't you just so forgiving? It's very nice to see another one of Bruce's pups, he definitely has a type, doesn't he girls?"

Dahlia hums and leans closer to Jason, "What do you mean, Grace? This one has the most lovely shade of baby blue eyes I've ever seen." Grace sips at her champagne, nodding in agreement. "Of course he does! But that's not what I meant. He sure does pick a lot of strays up, doesn't he? Dearie, may I ask where you came from?" Jason swallows nervously as their attention is suddenly drawn to him, their smiles still open and inviting, like aunties scrambling to look at their favorite nephews new child. Though there's something in their gazes now that cause him to feel like he needs to stand a little taller as they question him, "Y-Yes ma'am. Bruce found-" the affronted gasps cause the pup to frown-"What? Did I...did I say something wrong?"

Greta waves a delicate hand. "Oh, of course not! Just...you were found? It makes it seem like you were lost, dear child. Did he not collect you from the adoption agency? He has lots of them due to his mother's bleeding heart-ah, rest her soul of course."

Jason furrows his brow in confusion at the term 'collect'. What is he? A trophy?

"Well, no...he found me on the streets. So, I guess I was kind of lost without him, though I knew my way around them!"

Greta, Dahlia and Grace share a look with each other. The sandy blonde looking him up and down before her eyes land on his tie, her smile returning at the sight of it. "Oh my! Look at this lovely tie, girls, isn't it cute? It has...character to it."

Grace raises a thin brow, "Is this character named Jason? The tie looks about as lost as he does."

It takes a moment for Jason to process the comment, the delivery of it was said so syrupy sweet and complimenting that he chirped happily, his mood souring slightly at the biting remark. "Hey! Bruce and Alfred said I could tie my own tie for tonight and even said it looked great."

Greta clears her throat to get her friends under control, "We only jest with you. This is how we...play around here, you're one of us now, aren't you?" At the boy's quick nodding, her smile returns full force. "There's a good pup! We are only recognizing you as a part of our...pack you could say. And sometimes packs tease each other in good fun, surely you must know this?" Jason looks down ashamed at the memories of his small, very broken pack consisting of just himself, his mom and his dad...there wasn't really any good fun in those times, so he doesn't know how it's supposed to work.

The women practically purr at the downcast look they receive for the specific question, itching forward in excitement as they practically smell the juicy story emanating off the child. "Jason? Why the long stare? Surely it isn't that hard to tell us if you had fun with your biological family."

The pup looks back up at Greta, his throat feeling tight as he tries his best to remain brave, neglecting the urge to look for Bruce.

"I...don't wanna talk about them. Y-You have any other questions?"

Dahlia croons softly at him, "Don't you fret your adorable little head. I'll just state the obvious here: you don't know how a pack works, do you?" She waits for the boy to shake his head, clicking her tongue when he does so. "Well there we have it! You don't know how a pack properly works, and we-as your kind new aunties-just want to make sure you know how it functions. And in packs, you share things about yourself with each other, I mean, you need trust in a family don't you?"

Jason bites his lip. That...is true, isn't it? And he has been working on being more open about his feelings, even the bad ones.

"Y-Yes, you do. But...I don't know h-how."

The three croon to him at the same time, drawing him in closer as they pat his head and back comfortingly.

"There, there, puppy. Being open and honest about these things is healthy and perfectly normal, even if it doesn't seem like it is. Since this question is bothering you so much, why don't we ask where your mommy found you?"

Jason inhales shakily, balling up his pants in his tiny fists as he calms himself. "U-Uhm...B found me in Crime Alley."

Grace looks at him in disgust, "Ew! Who would be in a place like that? And why would our Brucie visit there anyway? That place holds no good memories for him, his parents were murdered there."

Jason feels ashamed from the intense reaction, the womens faces scrunching and curling up in disgust at the place he was born in. I mean, he can understand the aversion to wanting to be there, but do they have to be so...mean about it? However, he remembers Dahlia saying that being honest is normal, even when it seems scary to be so. But since he can't be truthful about the way he was actually found, he'll share a different kind of truth instead.

So, here goes nothing.

"I was born in Crime Alley. B found me on accident when visiting to help the folks down there...and I may have stolen something of his, but-."

The three women gasp, Dahlia literally clutching at her pearls while the other two jump away from him, a sharpness to their eyes that wasn't there before. "You mean...you are a thief? Are you sure you didn't just slip into Bruce's car and by his kindness he kept you?" Dahlia hisses out at him. Grace sniffles and lifts her head high, as if he's no longer worthy enough to look at. "First it was a circus freak and now a street rat? Where does Bruce find such creatures?"

Greta pulls out a handkerchief and wipes her hands on it, her lips curled up in absolute revulsion towards him. "I can't believe I touched it. And here I held out hope that this one was something...more?"

The women continue to insult Jason, causing the boy's eyes to grow watery as he tries to remember to breathe, maybe even apologize for whatever he did. He doesn't want to get sent away if Bruce sees and realizes he didn't make a good impression, he wants to stay, he wants to have this family so badly that it hurts. Nothing is worse than being alone, he'd take as much pain as possible if it doesn't mean being left alone with nothing but himself, and just the thought alone is panic inducing. "I-I wanna...s-stay."

The women turn their gazes towards the pup, their faces morphing into one of fear as they try to quiet him down, their smiles returning as they try to get him to calm down and breath. Their heads swiveling left and right in search of Bruce.

"I-I don't wanna go!"

Jason cries loudly, a sob ripping its way out of his throat as he attempts to wipe away the tears.

His head lifts instinctively in search of Bruce, his nose sniffing frantically for the omega and a whine cutting through the jovial mood and replacing it with the scent of distressed pup. There's only one person he wants right now and he doesn't see him, the memories of his mom clutching onto a pill bottle even in her death assaulting Jason suddenly, why did she leave him? They were supposed to survive together but she left and now Bruce-

Bruce?

Where's Bruce?

Where's-"M-Mommy!"

————°————

Bruce and Clark smile awkwardly at each other as they walk inside, Lois immediately rushing over to them and complimenting her fellow omega for how beautiful Jason is. "Thank you! He really is beautiful, isn't he? But, you do know I didn't actually give birth to him? I can't take credit for creating his beauty."

Lois rolls her eyes and growls at another reporter trying to interrupt them, straightening her deep purple suit jacket when they rush off.

"Why does it matter? He seems like a very sweet kid...and you took that sweetness in and-as far as I'm concerned-cultivated his kindness into something even more. You're good for him and he's perfect for you. Especially since he grew up in Crime Alley, you wouldn't imagine there'd come any good from that, hm?" Bruce blinks in shock at the other omega, "Jason...he told you that himself? That he grew up there?" The woman nods proudly, "Both me and Vicki...but it was a really nice interview. Especially when Vicki was called elsewhere-" she digs around in her inner suit pocket before pulling out a notepad and tape recorder-"Oh yes! I jotted down some extra notes in here and recorded our interview with Alfred's permission. I know how protective you are and thought that you'd like to take a look and listen over these? Contact me when you know what you want to be shared with the public, if anything at all."

Bruce feels his chest warm at the thoughtfulness, surprising even himself as he hands the notepad and recorder back to Lois.

"I...trust that you'll use good judgement? You don't win a Pulitzer for no reason, Ms. Lane."

Purple eyes shine in victory, an omegan call escaping her as she thanks Bruce and immediately gets distracted at Jimmy passing by them looking at his camera, Lois immediately hounding him to show her the money shots.

"Well, I guess you have to go find your son now?"

Bruce looks up at Clark and nods, sniffing the air quickly and smirking at the smell of his pup being around the whole room. He wouldn't be surprised if the boy tried his hand at talking to everyone in the room by himself, but before he can turn to go find his son, the scent of slightly sour milk stings the omega's nose. An ear piercing cry causing Bruce to instinctively turn towards the sound of scared pup, not just any pup, but his own.

"M-Mommy!"

An aggressive snarl is torn from Bruce's throat as he shoves his way past the guests, ignoring the pained cries of anyone unlucky enough to be in the way as he forces his way to where his pup is, his eyes narrowing angrily at the sight of the three women who constantly give him headaches at these sort of events.

"Jason-" Bruce trills-"it's okay, baby, it's okay. Move!"

The three women bare their necks in apology as they slowly back away from the Wayne's pup, the scent of their fear stinking up the room and causing Jason to react worse than before, his small hands squeezing onto Bruce's shirt as he gasps around his words. "D-Dont...go! I'm sorry!" Bruce wraps his arms securely around Jason, the different scents of alpha, beta and omega overwhelming him. His arms wrap tighter around his child as he snarls at the flashing cameras, the room descending into chaos as the media wants good pictures and certain attendees are trying to send out their own soothing scents in response to the smell of a scared pup.

Jason whimpers as someone shouts an inappropriately timed question, that being the last straw for Bruce as his omega takes full control and growls at everyone, even going so far as to start hitting at people in his protective state.

Pretty sure someone's camera broke.

"Get the fuck out of my home!"

The flashes stop suddenly at the sound of a feral and protective omega mother, the crowd has further incentive to keep moving when they see Bruce secure his hold on Jason and squaring his shoulders in preparation to start fighting anyone and everyone still in his nest.

"Mommy, d-don't give me away. I promise t-that I'll be good."

Gentle hands rub at Jason's nape to try and soothe him, his inner omega restless even though there's no one else he senses in his home but Alfred, Bruce whimpering pitifully as he nuzzles the boy's neck. "But you are good, you're so good, Jay. Better than I could have ever asked or hoped for, who told you that you weren't?"

Jason just whimpers and tries to scent Bruce's neck, whining at the equally distressed scent of his mom.

Why can't Bruce calm down? He's failing as a mother. He's just supposed to stay calm long enough to comfort his baby and then he can be furious, but something in him is shaking, snarling and fighting against enemies that aren't even here. His eyes flickering around the room for threats, covering Jason in his scent so no one can find him and take him away-

A strong hand cupping the nape of his neck firmly, but not without kindness, causes Bruce to melt with a whine against his pup.

"D-Dad."

Alfred softly shushes both Bruce and Jason, giving a couple firm rubs to induce the omega's serotonin, gently rumbling to the two and scenting them to soothe not just them, but himself as well. "There you go, Bruce. Will you both be alright while I head into the kitchen to prepare some warm milk?"

Bruce nods and nuzzles Jason, cooing to the pup as he hiccups softly. "It's okay, sweetheart. We'll go to my nest, okay?"

Bruce stands up with a slight stumble, petting Jason's fluffy hair softly as he rushes towards the steps, stopping in surprise at the sight of a frazzled Clark Kent, shocked at the fact he doesn't get too defensive at the other man's presence. "C-Clark? Why are you still here?" The beta looks down at Jason worriedly, sighing in relief at seeing the boy seems to be fine for the most part, though his nose twitches at the lingering scents of distress in the air. "I was helping to clear everyone out the house a-and I couldn't help but to stick behind even though I told myself to leave. I'm sorry, Bruce. I-I know that this is crossing some sort of line, but I just needed to see that you both were okay."

Bruce purrs softly in response to Jason shifting around with a whine, his omega not enjoying the fact his baby is feeling intimidated by the alpha, even if it is an alpha he feels comfortable with himself.

This time it's Clark that interrupts Bruce before he can say anything, "Look. Um...you're taking him upstairs, right? I-I don't want to go into your nest, but...can I...geeze-" he cards a shaky hand through his hair-"If it's allowed, may I escort you both to the room? I promise to stay in front so you can see me at all times." It looks like this situation isn't the only one to shake Bruce up, seems like it's startled the poor beta just as much as them.

Bruce slowly nods and gestures towards the staircase, watching cautiously as the man ascends the steps.

He continues to scent his pup with his now relaxed scent, gently massaging Jason's neck to relax the boy more while purring softly and peppering the sweaty face with kisses. "We're almost there, baby. You are so good, no one is taking you away from me, no one at all. You're mine and I'm your's cause we chose each other, and I would never trade that for anything."

Jason squeaks softly against the omega's neck, inhaling the familiar scent desperately as he slumps in Bruce's arms.

"Thank you Clark for making sure we got here safe. I'll just-"

The beta bends forward slowly to open the door for Bruce, his smile embarrassed for crossing into the omega's space again, his voice a quiet rumble as he speaks. "Your hands are full." Bruce hums in response, too tired to pay attention to the familiarity of this interaction as he quickly settles Jason down onto the bed, heading back to the open door and hesitating before closing it softly, a tired but thankful smile gracing his face as he whispers an extremely grateful, "Thank you."

The door softly clicks shut in Clark's face, his mouth hanging wide open as he realizes that Bruce Wayne is Batman.

————°————

It's late into the night, Bruce purring loudly at his pup's now milky and safe smelling scent. He can't find it in himself to sleep after tonight's events, so lying in bed cuddling with his baby it is.

A small, sleepy squeak escapes Jason, the boy twitching in his sleep, only being soothed by Bruce pressing kisses to his cheek and purring even louder. Why is it now that his mind chooses to think about the familiarity Clark Kent gives him, as if he's met him before? His sleep-addled brain sluggishly replaying every interaction between him in Clark, so much so that he starts to drift off to sleep.

However, the way the beta opened the door for him, stuck around for him and the pup, as well as announce that, 'your hands are full', is strangely uncanny to the way Superman stuck around for Richard and-Oh my gosh! Bruce opens his eyes quickly, any trace of exhaustion gone as he comes to the realization that Clark Kent is Superman.

"Hush, pup, I'm right here, it's okay." Bruce croons to the pup he disturbed in his surprised revelation, rubbing the boys back and cocooning the boy tighter into the blankets as he settles down to sleep.

(Here's the Link to Part 1: The Interview. I hope these stories are able to be enjoyed by someone? Either way, you guys are amazing. So please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛

P.S. The three rich hags views on Jason are not my own personal opinion of those in poverty or otherwise. They were written to be jerks/upsetting, so I hope I achieved my goal? I myself grew up in poverty and it sucks (absolutely would not wish it on my worst enemies), again, I just wrote them in the attempts of what rich people may think sometimes about those with less. Don't be like them guys! Be kind to everyone, okay? Alright, bye bye. 😘💛)

45 notes · View notes