#and they docked me and said i got the answer wrong

[acesammy]

the 2 colleges i have gone to now (or 2 of the 3 technically lol) are rival schools, and i am pretty firm in my belief now that the other one is better

[littlelamy]

i love anxious!reader so much. she is literally me. i struggle with so much anxiety it’s so draining and reading how rafe acts is like a soothing balm to my soul. can you do something where she’s having a really bad panic attack

lamy notes: i got two anxious readers requesrs so i just combined them. the other request: reader has one of her worst panic attacks when with the pogues and they immediately know to go and get rafe?

they know something is wrong the second you stop talking. one minute, you’re sitting on the dock with them, laughing at something stupid jj said, sipping cheap beer under the setting sun. the next, you’re silent, eyes unfocused, breath coming in shallow little pulls.

kiara notices first. “hey,” she says, nudging you lightly. “you okay?”

you open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

your hands feel numb. your heart is pounding, hard enough that it makes your vision swim, makes your skin feel too tight over your bones. the voices around you start to warp, sound too loud and too far at the same time. your chest clenches, like you can’t quite get enough air, like something is pressing down on you.

someone touches your arm, and you flinch.

“whoa—hey, what’s wrong?”

you can’t answer. can’t move. can’t breathe.

jj curses. “shit. i think—i think she’s having a panic attack.”

“okay, okay—” sarah is already pulling her phone out. “i’ll call rafe.”

you barely register the words before your ears start ringing, before your body feels completely detached from your mind. you’re sinking—drowning—and you can’t do anything about it. somewhere in the haze, sarah is saying his name over and over again, urgent and worried.

“rafe. you need to come get her. now.”

it takes rafe less than ten minutes to get there.

his truck comes tearing down the dirt road so fast it kicks up a cloud of dust, headlights cutting through the dark, engine rumbling loud and angry. before sarah even hangs up, he’s already throwing it into park, barely remembering to cut the ignition before he’s out, slamming the door shut behind him.

his eyes immediately find you.

you’re sitting on the dock, back pressed against the wooden railing, arms wrapped tight around your legs like you’re trying to make yourself smaller. your breathing is shaky, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven pulls.

rafe doesn’t even look at them when he strides over.

he crouches in front of you, voice softer than anything else about him right now. “baby.”

your eyes flick to his, wide and glassy, and his chest tightens.

“c’mere,” he murmurs, already reaching for you, pulling you forward like you weigh nothing. he wraps you up completely, tucks you into him, arms firm around your waist. you’re trembling. his jaw clenches.

“deep breaths, angel,” he murmurs, rubbing a slow, steady hand down your back. “breathe with me, yeah?”

you nod against his shoulder, gripping his shirt so tight your knuckles turn white. rafe starts breathing loud, exaggerated, just to guide you through it. slow inhales. slow exhales. again. again. again.

jj shifts on his feet. “we—”

“shut the fuck up.”

they all freeze.

rafe does not look at them, does not loosen his hold on you. his voice is low and dangerous, the sharp edge of a blade dragged slow across a throat.

“she’s like this because of you, isn’t she?” his head tilts slightly. “what’d you do?”

“nothing,” john b says quickly. “we didn’t—”

“then why the fuck is she out here having a panic attack?”

silence.

rafe exhales sharply through his nose, lips curling into something mean, something hateful.

“figures,” he mutters. “none of you can take care of her. not like i can.”

he stands up then, lifting you with him, one arm around your back, the other hooking under your knees. you don’t even flinch, just curl closer into his chest, bury your face in his neck like you belong there.

rafe glares at them. “stay the fuck away from her.”

he then walks off, carries you right to his truck, murmuring sweet, sweet words against your temple the whole way there.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafesbabygirlx @drewsephrry @lil-sparklqueen

[4linos]

the stranger you loved.

lee minho x fem!reader

synopsis: you don’t know him anymore. but minho knows you, every laugh, every tear, every promise. and he’s not giving up.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, car accident, amnesia.

wc: 2838

[part 2.]

It was supposed to be an ordinary evening. Nothing out of the norm, at least, that’s what Minho thought when he laced up his shoes for dance practice, falling into the rhythm with the others as they cycled through choreography and light-hearted banter. You were always on his mind, of course, he’d checked your last message, smiled at whatever silly thing you’d said, and pocketed his phone again with no real expectation that something could go wrong.

Until it did.

Halfway through their dance routine, Minho’s phone buzzed on the speaker dock. It was odd, he never got calls during practice unless it was urgent. He didn’t recognize the number, but something in his gut told him to answer. And from the moment he pressed the phone to his ear, everything stopped. His heart. His breath. The world.

“Are you Lee Minho?” a firm, professional voice asked. “You’re listed as an emergency contact for L/N Y/N. There’s been an accident—”

His blood ran cold. “What?”

“A car crash. They’ve been transported to the emergency department. We need you to come to the hospital immediately.”

The rest was a blur. Minho’s breath caught as his knees went weak. He didn’t even say anything to the members at first. Just turned pale, hands trembling as he stared at the floor. Hyunjin called after him as he stumbled toward his bag, but Minho didn’t answer. Didn’t have it in him to form words. Only when Chan caught his arm did he choke out the most haunting, broken sentence:

“It’s Y/N. They were in a crash. The hospital—they said it’s bad. I need to go—right now.”

No one questioned it. Minho was already halfway out the door, running like his legs had minds of their own. His chest ached, every step a scream through his body. He didn’t even feel the rain when he made it outside, didn’t feel the way his hands fumbled with his keys as he jumped into the car. All he could think was please, please be okay.

When he arrived at the hospital, he didn’t have to ask for directions. The expression on his face was enough to have the front desk nurse standing immediately.

“Where is she?” His voice cracked as he rushed forward. “Where is Y/N?! Is she okay?”

“She’s—she’s in surgery. Please, sir, you need to calm down—”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! Just tell me what’s happening! Is she going to make it?! What happened?!” His voice was ragged, on the edge of shattering completely. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His hands were shaking uncontrollably.

“We don’t know the extent of the damage yet. She suffered significant trauma, especially to the head. They’re doing everything they can.”

That phrase “everything they can” echoed in his skull like a death sentence. They didn’t know. Which meant he didn’t know. Which meant you could be—

He collapsed into one of the stiff hospital chairs, gripping the edge like it could anchor him to a reality he no longer trusted.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the members arrived. They looked just as shaken, frantic, and unsure as he had. Chan found him first, gently placing a hand on Minho’s back. He’d never seen him look so lost, so fragile. Not Minho, not the one who held everyone else up when things got hard.

“Hey,” Chan whispered. “She’s strong, okay? We’re gonna get through this.”

But Minho didn’t respond. He couldn’t. All he could do was stare at the surgery sign above the double doors. Waiting.

Time was meaningless in those moments. Could’ve been hours. Could’ve been years. His phone had long since died, and he hadn’t even noticed. Nothing mattered except that damn hallway, and whether or not someone would come through it with good news, or the worst news of his life.

And then, finally, the doors opened.

A surgeon approached with a face that gave nothing away, and Minho stood so fast his chair screeched backward against the floor. The others stood too, holding their breath.

“You’re here for Y/N?” the doctor asked.

Minho nodded, his voice gone.

“The surgery was successful,” the doctor said, finally offering the first sliver of light in hours of darkness. “There was significant head trauma, but we were able to control the bleeding and reduce the swelling. She’s in the ICU now, sedated, and stable. She’ll need to stay for a few days for observation and recovery.”

The air left Minho’s lungs all at once. His knees nearly gave out again, this time from the release of tension.

“She’s okay?” he asked, like he couldn’t believe it. “She’s really… okay?”

“She’ll need time. But yes. You can see her now, she’s still resting, but the nurse will take you.”

He looked to the members for half a second, eyes wide and glassy, searching for something. Support, maybe. Permission.

“Go,” Seungmin said softly. “She needs you.”

“Go,” Chan echoed. “We’ll be right here.”

Minho didn’t wait. Couldn’t. He followed the nurse like a man possessed, heart pounding, limbs stiff from sitting so long or maybe just from the terror still coiled in his chest. The hallways were too long, too sterile, too cold. But when the nurse opened the ICU room door, everything stopped again.

There you were. Pale. Motionless. Tubes running from your arms, wires monitoring your heart, your head bandaged carefully. You didn’t look like yourself, not completely. But your chest was rising and falling. And that was enough.

Minho moved to your side like he was afraid you’d disappear if he blinked. He sank into the chair next to your bed and reached for your hand careful, so careful like you were made of porcelain.

“You scared the hell out of me,” he whispered, his voice barely more than breath. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Tears slipped down his cheeks before he could stop them. But he didn’t care anymore. You were alive. And no matter how long it took, he’d be right here. Every second. Until you woke up. Until you knew he was here. Until you knew just how much he loved you.

Minho didn’t leave your side.

Not when the nurses dimmed the lights in your ICU room.

Not when visiting hours officially ended.

Not when the staff gently reminded him, again and again that you were sedated, and it could be hours, maybe even days, before you woke up.

He sat by your bedside, hand tightly wrapped around yours like a lifeline. Your skin was cold. Too cold. And you still weren’t responding. You hadn’t moved once since they brought him in. Machines beeped softly beside you, every sound too loud and not loud enough.

The nurses told him, kindly, that they’d watch over you, that he should go home, rest, eat something. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He’d never forgive himself if you woke up and he wasn’t there.

“I’ll sleep here,” he murmured once, half a promise, half a plea.

But he didn’t sleep. Not really.

He dozed off once or twice in short bursts, head slumped against the edge of the bed, still gripping your hand like it anchored him to the world. Every time he started to drift off, he forced himself awake again. What if you woke up and needed him? What if the first thing you saw was a stranger in a white coat, and not someone who knew you, loved you?

He couldn’t bear that thought. So he watched you. For hours.

Even when the hospital’s midnight quiet stretched unbearably long, and the only sound was the occasional shuffle of rubber soles in the hallway or the soft exhale of your breathing. He watched you, eyes burning, body aching, emotions worn thin and raw. He whispered to you sometimes. Just little things. Stuff you liked. Songs you loved. Memories you shared. He told you over and over again how much he needed you to come back.

“I should’ve been there,” he whispered once around 3AM, forehead resting against your hand. “If I had just called earlier… if I had told you to wait, or picked you up myself—”

He shook his head, tears threatening again. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Eventually, the first hints of morning light began to creep through the slats in the blinds. His body ached. His throat was dry. But his fingers were still laced with yours.

He hadn’t moved.

Not even once.

He couldn’t.

And then, just as the exhaustion began to drag his eyelids down again, your hand moved.

Just a twitch. A slight shift in his grasp. But it was real.

Minho jolted up like he’d been struck by lightning, eyes wide, heart hammering in his chest.

“Y/N?” he said, voice cracking. “Hey — hey, are you—?”

Your eyelids fluttered, slow and heavy. Then they opened.

For a second, he just stared, stunned, overwhelmed with a flood of relief so sharp it nearly knocked the wind out of him.

“Oh my god,” he gasped. “You’re awake—you’re finally—”

His hand fumbled for the nurse call button and pressed it hard, exactly like they told him to. He leaned in immediately after, lips brushing your forehead, then your lips soft, desperate kisses.

“I missed you,” he murmured against your skin. “I was so scared. I thought— I thought I lost you. You have no idea how worried I’ve been, Y/N. I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected you. I’m so, so sorry you had to go through all that. I love you—”

But then you blinked.

And stared at him.

And didn’t say a word.

The moment lingered, too long, too still. Minho’s heart began to slow, unease clawing at his chest.

“…Y/N?” he said again, softer now, trying to meet your gaze. “It’s me. It’s Minho. You’re safe. You’re—”

“Who… are you?”

Silence.

It crashed into him like a sledgehammer.

He blinked, sure he misheard. Then he let out a short, nervous laugh, too high, too forced.

“What? What are you talking about?” he said, trying to play it off. “Stop messing around, babe. It’s me.”

But your eyes didn’t change. There was no spark of recognition. No teasing smile. No warmth.

The door flew open and nurses poured in, followed by a doctor who immediately checked your vitals, looked over the machines, started asking you questions.

“Y/N, do you know where you are?”

You shook your head slowly.

“Do you know what day it is?”

“…Wednesday?”

“It’s Sunday,” the nurse said gently.

The doctor leaned forward. “Can you tell me what year it is?”

You tilted your head. Your eyes darted to Minho, as if maybe he’d help you guess right, but your voice came out unsure.

“...2022?”

Minho’s stomach dropped. It was 2025.

“No, no, no—” he whispered, voice hollow. “Please…”

He took a step back, like he could physically distance himself from the weight pressing down on his chest. Like that would make it easier to breathe.

But it didn’t.

The doctor’s expression turned serious. They asked you a few more questions, simple ones your name, your birthday, the name of the current president. You got most of them wrong. They explained, softly, that you’d suffered a severe head trauma, and memory loss even temporary wasn’t uncommon.

Temporary.

That word clung to Minho’s hope like a thread. But right now, it felt anything but temporary.

Because you were looking at him like a stranger.

Because everything he knew, the life you shared, the love you built wasn’t reflected back in your eyes.

Minho couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. He just stood there, his world crumbling quietly around him while nurses continued their checks, their soft reassurances doing nothing to stop the sharp, slow break of his heart.

He had stayed awake for you. Waited through hell and back.

And now you were here.

But you didn’t know who he was.

It felt like the world was playing a cruel trick on him.

You were right there, alive, breathing eyes open, heartbeat steady, but it was like you were someone else entirely.

Minho had never known a silence so loud, so suffocating, as when you first said those words.

“Who… are you?”

They were innocent. Unassuming. A genuine question from someone waking up in a haze.

But for Minho, they were a dagger to the chest.

Still, some part of him, the part that loved you more than he’d ever loved anyone clung to hope. Maybe it was the drugs. The trauma. Maybe you were still foggy. It wasn’t over. It couldn’t be over.

So he tried again.

He waited until the nurses had finished checking your IV, gently adjusting the machines monitoring your vitals. He slowly stepped forward, each step feeling heavier than the last. He kept his voice quiet, as if saying it softer might make it easier for you to remember.

“Y/N…” he whispered, carefully reaching for your hand. “It’s me. Minho. You still don’t remember?”

Your hand twitched in his.

And then you pulled it away.

Like his touch burned. Like he was a stranger.

The nurses exchanged a quick, sad glance, their movements slowing around the bed. One of them gave Minho a soft, regretful look, but it didn’t make the ache in his chest any less sharp. He felt cold all over. His fingers curled into his palms to stop them from trembling.

“No, no, it’s okay,” he said quickly, eyes locked on yours, voice cracking. “You’re just tired. You’ve been through a lot. I’m sure it’s just temporary. Just… please try. We live together, remember? We’ve been together for years. You love me. You—”

The doctor cleared his throat, cutting him off. “Let’s just run a few more cognitive tests. I want to get a clearer idea of the scope here.”

“What does that mean?” Minho snapped, his voice rising now. “You said she was okay! You said the surgery was a success. So why—why can’t she remember me?!”

“Mr. Lee,” the doctor began gently, “this kind of head trauma—”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid!” Minho nearly shouted, stepping forward, his composure hanging by a thread. “You said she’d recover. You told me everything was going to be okay!”

“I understand you’re upset, but this isn’t uncommon with traumatic brain injuries—”

“Then fix it!” His voice broke entirely now, breath hitching as the tears finally came. “Please… just tell me she’ll remember…”

You flinched slightly at his raised voice. And then, in the quiet that followed, your own voice trembled into the space between you.

“…Can he please leave?”

It felt like time stopped.

Minho froze, every bone in his body turning to ice. Your voice wasn’t angry, it wasn’t cruel. It was confused. Frightened. You didn’t know who he was, and his grief looked like a threat.

You were scared of him.

That realization split him down the middle.

The doctor gave a small nod to the nurses, who gently approached, but Minho shook his head. He backed up slowly, holding up his hands.

“No. It’s okay. I’m going,” he whispered. “I don’t want to scare you.”

He turned without another word, walking stiffly out the door, and the moment it clicked shut behind him, the weight hit.

Minho paced the sterile white of the waiting room like it was a cage, back and forth, fists clenched, unable to sit, unable to stop his thoughts from racing. The same words kept echoing in his head on a loop.

She doesn’t know who I am.

She doesn’t remember me.

She asked me to leave.

When the door opened again, he nearly tripped over his own feet rushing to meet the doctor.

“Well?” he demanded, desperate. “What’s happening to her? Why doesn’t she know me?”

The doctor gave him a solemn look and sighed, folding their arms. “She’s suffering from retrograde amnesia. It’s a condition where the brain, due to trauma, forgets information that was stored before the incident. In Y/N’s case, we’re seeing significant memory loss, personal memory, especially. She’s retained basic facts, but she doesn’t remember her relationships.”

Minho went still. “You mean… me.”

The doctor nodded.

“For now, she doesn’t remember you.”

Minho felt like the floor disappeared from beneath him.

“What do you mean, for now? So she might? Or she might never?”

“There’s no clear timeline for recovery. Sometimes memories return gradually. Sometimes not at all. It depends on how the brain heals and that’s something we can’t predict. I’m sorry.”

Minho backed up a step. Then another. He slumped into one of the cold plastic chairs, burying his face in his hands.

He had stayed all night. Kept vigil like it would bring you back to him. He’d whispered promises to you in the dark, kissed your hand like it was sacred. He had pictured you waking up and crying tears of relief, pulling him into a hug and asking where you were. He had begged for this moment.

And now that it was here… it was worse than anything he’d imagined.

You were alive.

But you were gone.

//

masterlist.

[sh4nksslvt]

Say something

Straw Hat Pirates with a newly recruited reader who has selective mutism, appears unassuming but is secretly op

Strawhats x psychic!femreader ౨ৎ💗 ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw, bit of angst(?)

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ffs a bit cringe

words count:968

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

You weren’t used to crowds.

And right now, that was a problem—because you were very much in one. A particularly sweaty, loud, and increasingly hostile one. The Straw Hats had docked at a lively but rough port for supplies, and in an unfortunate twist of fate, you’d gotten separated from the crew while browsing a small weapons stall.

Now you were surrounded by a group of sneering pirates, each one more obnoxious than the last, forming a loose circle around you like a pack of hyenas smelling blood.

“Aww, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” one of them leered, waving a cutlass lazily at your side. “Cat got your tongue?”

“She ain’t said a word,” another said, voice thick with mockery. “Too scared, huh?”

“She’s shaking,” a third laughed. “Bet she can’t even hold a sword properly.”

They were right about one thing: you hadn’t spoken. But it wasn’t fear that silenced you—it was them. Strangers. Eyes. Loud voices demanding a reaction.

Your throat felt tight. The words—simple ones, just leave me alone—were locked behind a door your mind couldn’t open. So you did what you always did when this happened.

You stared.

Expression blank. Shoulders loose. Breathing calm.

The mask of silence you wore never failed to make people underestimate you.

And right on cue, the biggest of the group stepped forward, cocky and smug. “C’mon, sweetheart. Say somethin’. Just one word.”

You tilted your head and blinked at him slowly.

He leaned in closer, thinking you were cornered prey.

And that’s when he made his mistake.

He reached out—fingertips brushing your collarbone, tugging at your cloak—like you were some kind of doll to poke and prod.

You whispered, barely audible: “Don’t touch me.”

He blinked. “What was that—”

And then you moved.

—

The first crack was his ribs.

You didn’t look strong. That was your favorite part about this whole thing. Small frame, loose clothes, no visible weapon. You’d always been dismissed as fragile, silent, soft.

But that was before your elbow shattered the man’s chestplate and launched him backward into a fruit stand. The market screamed and scattered. In seconds, chaos erupted.

Two more charged at you from either side. You twisted—agile, fluid—and drove a sharp heel into one’s temple while catching the other’s blade between your fingers. Not even a scratch.

He stared at you in shock.

You smiled sweetly.

Then bent the sword in half like it was tinfoil.

“Oh, she’s weird,” one pirate shrieked.

“Demon!” another cried.

You crouched low and pressed your palm to the ground. There was a faint ripple of energy, subtle and shimmering. A deep hum thrummed beneath the earth. Then the cobblestones exploded, launching your remaining attackers into the air like popcorn kernels.

Psychic force, compressed and sharp like a blade of wind. You didn’t need to speak to cast—just focus. Just want.

—

Across the square, the Straw Hats had heard the explosion before they saw you.

“What was that?!” Usopp shouted, ducking behind Franky.

“I think the market’s being destroyed!” Nami yelled.

“Could be marines,” Sanji muttered.

“Could be her,” Zoro said suddenly, eyes narrowing.

“Huh?” Chopper squeaked.

Zoro didn’t answer. He was already walking toward the noise.

—

When they arrived, the square was in shambles.

Stalls crushed. Dust everywhere. Six pirates knocked out cold. A seventh trying to crawl away with only one shoe and his pride in pieces.

And you—standing alone in the middle of it all, clothes scuffed but otherwise untouched, casually spinning a small rock above your palm with lazy telekinesis.

You looked up when they approached. Your eyes locked with Luffy’s first.

You expected him to be surprised.

Instead, he beamed.

“THAT WAS AWESOME!” he yelled, running up to you like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time. “You exploded the GROUND!”

You blinked, unsure how to respond.

Zoro whistled low. “You’re stronger than you look.”

Nami was wide-eyed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You shrugged, still spinning the rock.

Robin tilted her head, looking more curious than shocked. “Psychic ability,” she murmured. “Very rare. You must have excellent control.”

Sanji, meanwhile, was clutching his chest. “Mon dieu… she flipped a man with her foot. I am in love. I am ascending.”

You rolled your eyes.

Chopper scrambled up your shoulder, stars in his eyes. “Can you teach me that thing you did with the sword?!”

You raised a brow, then made the rock hover in front of him. He squealed in delight.

Usopp ducked behind Luffy. “Can she read minds?! Wait—can she read MY mind?!”

You smirked. Then deliberately looked at him and said nothing.

He screamed and ran behind a barrel.

And through it all, Luffy never stopped smiling.

—

Later, back on the Sunny, Luffy found you sitting at the railing, watching the sea. The sun was setting, sky turning to amber and pink. You didn’t hear him approach, but you felt him sit beside you.

You glanced at him, then looked away.

He leaned closer. “You okay?”

You nodded.

“You don’t talk a lot,” he said, not as a complaint, just a statement.

You shook your head.

“But you can.”

You hesitated. Then leaned in, gently cupping your hands around his ear.

“I only speak when it matters,” you whispered.

He grinned. “It mattered earlier?”

You nodded again.

He sat back, still smiling. “Good. Then I’ll wait. ‘Til it matters again.”

You stared at him for a second longer. Then reached out, flicked his forehead gently with a little psychic zap.

He flinched. “Hey!”

You didn’t reply. Just smirked.

He grinned wider.

“You’re cool shishishishi,” he said.

And you finally let yourself laugh—quiet, barely audible, but real.

They’d seen your power now. The cat was out of the bag.

But you still had a hundred secrets left to keep.

And the crew?

They were just getting started.

a/n: idk if its just me but i love an overpowered reader, especially if theyre psychic ><

[eu-nicola]

never enough

summary: Rafe and you share a connection that has always bordered the line between friendship and something deeper. Despite knowing that loving him is a game of risks, you cling to the intensity of his company. Rafe makes you feel alive, even when his love arrives with scars.

warnings: idk

word counter: 2862

author's note: english is not my first language

tags: @rafegf-real

The sun was streaming through the curtains in the room, illuminating the messy edges of your bed. It was a new day on the Outer Banks, but there was something different about the air, something you could only describe as a whisper of what has always been between you. You and Rafe Cameron.

For as long as you can remember, Rafe has been a constant in your life. You were no stranger to his fame on the island: the troubled boy, the son of the powerful Ward Cameron. But, to you, he had always been something more. There was a complexity to him that few bothered to see, an invisible pull that always brought you back to his side, even when you knew you shouldn’t.

That morning, your phone vibrated on the nightstand. Rafe’s name flashed on the screen, a reminder that even when you tried to keep some distance, he always found a way to get past your defenses.

“Breakfast at the dock?”

It was his usual way of starting the day with you, as if you both didn't have a history full of moments that neither of you wanted to name. Moments like the time when, after one of his most intense arguments with his father, he appeared at your window at midnight, seeking comfort. Or that time when his hands lingered a little longer on your waist while you were dancing at one of the many parties on the island. Neither of you mentioned it afterwards, but the weight of what was left unsaid always lingered.

You arrived at the port, and there he was, leaning against his motorcycle, with that arrogant smile that only he could effortlessly sport. Your steps slowed down, but your eyes couldn't help but search for his. There was always something in his gaze, a sparkle that he only reserved for you.

"I thought you weren't coming," he said, although you both knew that you always came when he called.

"And letting you have breakfast alone, who would you take it out on then?" you answered, trying to keep the lightness in your tone.

He laughed, that kind of laugh that felt like an escape, and walked over to you. There was something about the way he closed the distance between you that always made you hold your breath. There was nothing particularly romantic about that gesture, and yet, every time he did it, you felt like the world became a little bit smaller, leaving room for just the two of you.

“Come on,” he said, taking your arm with a familiarity that bordered on intimacy.

Breakfast was like any other, filled with jokes and sarcastic remarks.

After breakfast, the two of you headed to his bike. As you climbed onto the back of his bike, the familiarity of the contact with his back hit you. There was something addictive about the feeling of being so close to him, the engine roaring beneath you, the wind blowing away any rational thought. You gripped his shirt tighter than necessary, as if that could keep you anchored in a world where he wasn’t always a storm.

Rafe led you to a secluded path near the beach, a place you had both frequented since you were kids. No one would find you there, which made it perfect for those moments when neither of you wanted to face the rest of the world.

Upon arriving, he got off the bike and leaned against a large rock, lighting a cigarette. You watched as the smoke rose in spirals, his sharp features bathed in sunlight.

“You know being with me isn’t going to get you anywhere good, right?” he said suddenly, his tone low, almost a whisper.

You stepped closer, crossing your arms as you looked at him. You knew there was truth in his words. Loving him was like walking a razor’s edge; one wrong step and everything could fall apart. But you also knew that the intensity of his love, of his presence, made you feel alive like nothing else.

“I know,” you finally admitted, your voice firm. “But I also know that I prefer that to a life without feeling. And you… you make me feel.”

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, it was like time stood still. There was a weight in his gaze, a mix of desire, pain, and something deeper that he’d never been able to put into words.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I do anyway,” he said, throwing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with his foot.

You moved closer, your body now just inches from his. You could feel the tension in the air, the electricity that always seemed to exist between you. You lifted a hand and placed it gently on his cheek, forcing him to look at you closely.

“We all have scars, Rafe. Mine don’t scare me,” you whispered. “But I don’t want you to keep running away from what we feel.”

His lips curved into a half smile, though his eyes were still filled with uncertainty. Rafe had always been good at hiding his emotions, but with you, it was different. You could see the cracks in his facade, and every time you did, you found yourself wishing you were the one to save him, even though you knew he didn’t want to be saved.

Suddenly, his hand moved to your waist, pulling you towards him. His fingers pressed lightly against your skin, and for a second, everything else stopped mattering. Rafe looked down at your lips, as if he was weighing whether to cross that line once more.

“You’re too good for me,” he murmured, his voice husky.

“I don’t care,” you replied without hesitation.

And then, as if finally giving in, he leaned his head down and kissed you. It wasn’t a soft, delicate kiss; it was a clash of pent-up emotions, of desire and desperation. His lips were insistent, almost possessive, as if he wanted to mark you, to make sure you knew what you meant to him, even if he could never put it into words.

Your hands found his hair, tugging lightly as his arms wrapped around you tighter. Everything about him was intensity, as if he wanted to absorb every part of you in that moment. But there was also a vulnerability in the way he held you, as if he was afraid you would pull away.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily. Rafe rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as if trying to hold on to the moment.

“This is what scares me,” he admitted in a whisper. “I don’t know how to not screw this up.”

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you again.

“You don’t have to be perfect, Rafe. You just have to be you. And I’ll be here, even when things get tough.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, you thought that maybe, just maybe, this scarred love might be worth it. Because, despite everything, Rafe Cameron made you feel alive, and that was a risk you were willing to take again and again.

There was something in the air when you were with Rafe. A raw, intense energy that made you feel more alive than anything else had ever managed. When you were with him, every emotion was amplified; every brush of his skin against yours ignited a fire that consumed you completely. But that love, so fierce and visceral, also came with scars.

That night, he had come home late, stumbling slightly, his eyes red and a trace of regret marked in every line of his face. You knew what was coming before he even opened his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, stopping in the doorway of your room.

His words were familiar, as were the promises that accompanied them. “I’m sorry” was always followed by his need to fix it, to make you feel like you still loved him, despite everything. You looked up at him, your eyes filled with mixed emotions. You had cried before he arrived, silent tears at the way he always found a way to hurt you, whether it was with sharp words or the shadows of other women. And yet, there he was, begging you to forgive him.

“Why do you always come back here?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “Why do you come back to me, Rafe?”

He didn’t answer right away. He took a step toward you, his gaze catching yours, as if he were looking for a way to explain something that even he didn’t fully understand. Finally, he said,

“Because you’re the only thing that makes me feel real.”

Your chest tightened at those words, that naked confession he would never make to anyone else. And you knew, with every fiber of your being, that it was true. No matter how much he ran away, no matter how much he sought comfort in others, he always ended up coming back to you, as if you were his only refuge in a world that he himself had turned into chaos.

He moved closer slowly, his shaking hands finding yours.

“I know I hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking. “But I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to love you without scarring you.”

His words were like a knife, but also a promise. There was something about his vulnerability that completely disarmed you. You felt each of his flaws, his mistakes, like a shared burden. But you also knew that, despite the pain, you couldn’t walk away from him. Rafe was both your storm and your refuge. A love that lifted you up and consumed you at the same time.

“I don’t hate you for what you do,” you finally said, your voice firm though your eyes shone with unshed tears. “I hate you for how you make me feel, even after everything.”

Rafe lowered his head, his lips brushing the back of your hand with a tenderness that seemed almost impossible for someone like him.

“Let me fix it,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Let me prove to you that I’m still worthy of you.”

Your breathing quickened as his hands moved to your waist, gently pulling you towards him. You felt the urgency in his touch, the desperation of a man who feared losing the only thing that gave his life meaning.

“Rafe…” you murmured, but your words were caught in your throat as his lips found yours.

The kiss was anything but gentle. It was a storm, a hurricane of emotions that left you breathless. His mouth moved against yours with an almost desperate intensity, as if he wanted to etch you into his skin, to make sure you knew how much he needed you. Your hands found his hair, tugging lightly as he pressed you against the wall, his body enveloping you in searing heat.

Every touch, every kiss, was a mix of love and penance. Rafe knew he had crossed boundaries, that he had hurt your heart in ways that might never fully heal. But he also knew that, in moments like this, he could redeem himself, at least for a while. And you, despite everything, let him.

His hands slid down your back, caressing your skin with a gentleness that contrasted with the intensity of his kisses. He lifted you slightly, whispering your name as if it were a mantra, as if that could repair every crack he had caused. And in those moments, when both of you were wrapped in the purest intimacy, all the pain, all the scars, temporarily faded.

Rafe loved you with the same intensity with which he consumed you, and although you knew it was a dangerous love, you couldn't help but surrender to him. Because, despite the scars, he made you feel alive. And in a world full of shadows, that spark was all you needed to keep going.

Weeks passed, and though each night Rafe slipped by your window felt like a new beginning, the cycle never changed. During the day, he was the same again: the boy who moved from girl to girl, who sought in others what, deep down, he knew only you could give him. You saw him at parties, his arm around some new conquest, and you felt a part of you break every time his eyes didn’t seek you out in the crowd.

But he always came back. At the end of the day, when the world was dark and silent, it was your name he whispered, your window he knocked softly. And you, despite the pain, always let him in.

That day, after one of those parties where you’d seen him with another girl, something inside you finally gave in. You were in your room, the dim light from the nightstand illuminating the space as you sat on the bed, your hands shaking with frustration and sadness. You didn’t want to open the door for him this time. You wanted to scream, to break something, to make him understand how much it hurt you.

But when you heard the knock on the window, your body reacted before your mind. You walked over to it, your steps slow and heavy. When you opened it, Rafe was standing there, his hair messy and his eyes downcast. There was a trace of guilt in his expression, but also something deeper, something you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Can I come in?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

You didn’t say anything, just stepped aside. He walked in and stood there, looking at you as if trying to find the right words. But there were no words that could fix what you were feeling right now.

“I can’t go on like this,” you finally said, your voice cracking.

Rafe looked up, surprised by the harshness in your tone.

“I’m tired, Rafe. Tired of being your refuge when the world turns its back on you. Tired of seeing you with others and pretending I don’t care. Tired of loving you more than you love me.”

Tears began to roll down your cheeks, and this time you didn’t try to stop them.

“I want you to love me, Rafe. I want you to need me, not just in your worst moments, but always.”

Rafe took a step toward you, but you held up a hand, stopping him.

“I’m broken, Rafe. Every time you leave, you leave a part of me behind.” And I don’t know how much more I can take.

For a moment, silence filled the room. Then Rafe slowly approached, ignoring your raised hand. His eyes were filled with something you hadn’t seen before: fear.

“I need you,” he said, his voice shaking. “I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone.”

His words hit you hard, but they didn’t stop hurting.

“It doesn’t seem like it, Rafe. Every time I see you with someone else, I wonder if I’m enough for you.”

Rafe shook his head, his hands finding yours with desperate urgency.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice firmer. “There’s not going to be a time in my life when I don’t need you. You’re my constant, my only refuge when everything else falls apart.”

His words made your tears flow harder, but this time you didn’t stop them. Rafe pulled you to him, enveloping you in a hug that was both comforting and heartbreaking. You could feel him trembling, his own eyes wet as he rested his forehead against yours.

“I know I hurt you,” he admitted quietly. “I know I’m a mess and you deserve better. But I can’t imagine my life without you.”

You clung to him, your hands gripping his shirt tightly. You wanted to believe him, you wanted to think that this time it would be different. But the pain was still there, a constant reminder of the wounds he had left behind.

“I don’t want to be your refuge if you can’t be mine too,” you whispered.

Rafe nodded slowly, as if he understood the magnitude of your words.

“I want to be. And I’m going to do whatever it takes to prove to you that I can be.”

Silence filled the room again, but this time, it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was a silence filled with unspoken promises, with hopes that you both knew would be hard to keep.

That night, when Rafe kissed you, it was different. It wasn’t the kiss of someone seeking comfort, but of someone willing to fight for what really mattered. And as his lips moved against yours, a small spark of hope began to burn in your heart.

Maybe this time, the scars could start to heal.

[fetusgooseandjuice]

Promise

Pairing(s): Knight!Natasha Romanoff x Princess!Reader

Summary: The first time you patch up an injured Natasha.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Descriptions of wounds | Terribly written medical talk | Mentions of violence and knives

Authors Note: This is another mini-oneshot to my fic “Soulmates”. I’d recommend reading that one before this for context to be able to grasp the storyline!

Other mini-oneshots: Forever | Perfect | Enamored

(Takes place around 17 years old)

You entered the castle with your mother at your side. You had just finished sitting in on a meeting that your parents had attended with some of neighboring kingdoms.

With you finally becoming of age to understand at least the majority of what they were discussing, your mother and father wanted you to get some first hand experience at helping to make important decisions.

As you talked you rounded the corner to the hallway that held the library where you'd planned to get in some studying, but the words coming out of your mother's mouth had faded to the back of your mind once you saw Yelena rushing towards you.

She looked frantic, but you noticed how she toned it down to a more presentable manner after laying eyes on the Queen beside you.

Your eyebrows furrowed seeing her approach you as though she were on a mission, and your mother had now stopped talking realizing that you were no longer paying attention.

"Hey, Yelena. Is everything okay?" you greeted the blonde.

Yelena looked between the two of you before answering, "Yeah. Yeah, I just needed you for...something...real quick."

Your mother cleared her throat to get your attention, "I'm going to go find your father. Don't forget to look over the information from today, okay honey?"

"Of course." you nodded your head in understanding, "I'll see you later." you said before she excused herself.

You turned back to the blonde with a now more concerned look, "What's going on? What's wrong?" you asked.

She almost struggled to find an answer before responding, "I think it's better for you to just see for yourself..." Yelena trailed off as she grabbed your wrist into her hand and led you through the hallways.

The two of you ended up in front of your bedroom door which confused you even more as she pulled you inside and quickly shut the door behind you, but your heart dropped at the sight in front of you when you turned around.

Natasha was sat on your bed looking as if she'd just been in a fight.

A bad one at that.

Her face was scuffed with dirt, her knuckles were bloodied and bruised, but that wasn't even the worst of it. The worst part was the area on her shoulder that her hand was clutching to stop it from bleeding, but you could see it clearly wasn't doing a very good job.

"I tried to take her to the infirmary, but she wouldn't go. She told me to bring her to you, but one of the maids said that you weren't here so I had to go find you." Yelena explained.

"Oh my god, Nat. What happened?" you asked as you rushed to your girlfriend’s side.

Your eyes zeroed in on the open wound on her shoulder. Her breath hitched when you moved her hand out of the way to get a better look. You muttered an apology before putting her hand back and quickly grabbing a hand towel from your closet.

"You should see the other guys." the redhead chuckled but her smile was replaced with a wince when you moved her hand again to use the towel to apply pressure instead.

Natasha knew you didn't find her joke very funny based on the glare you sent her way.

"She got into a fight with some thieves down at the docks. I told her it wasn't a good idea, but she wouldn't listen and now here we are." Yelena said.

This time it was Natasha's turn to glare at her sister for ratting her out, but Yelena didn't pay any mind to the look she was given.

"Jesus christ," you mumbled. "And you decided you wanted to bleed out on my bed right now instead of in the infirmary with a doctor because?"

The redhead winced again when you shifted to be able to inspect the rest of her body for any other injuries, "I thought you would be able to treat it. Didn't your parents make you take first aid lessons from the doctor a few years ago? You know, for your studies?"

"Yes, but the doctor at the infirmary is a professional." you counteracted. "They would do a much better job than I would at making sure this doesn't get infected."

"Please, Y/n." Natasha said, "I could get in so much trouble if my commander found out I was getting into fights before I even finished my training."

You sighed as you thought for a moment. She's obviously set on not going to the doctor, and you have to do something soon to stop it from getting worse so you really had no choice.

As you stood up from the bed the knights eyes followed you, "Take your top off and keep putting pressure on this." you told her before making your way to your bathroom.

Yelena took this as her cue to leave, "I'm gonna go now. I'll come back to check on you in a bit." she said and Natasha nodded, watching her slip through the door and shut it behind her.

After a little struggle the redhead managed to eventually pull her shirt over her head, leaving her in a tank top.

When you returned a moment later you had a clean towel and a first aid kit in hand. You sat back down next to her and removed the dirty towel to begin cleaning her wound.

It wasn’t as bad as it had looked before when you finally got the bleeding to stop. Either way seeing her like this scared you more than you’d let on.

You worked in silence for a while. The only sounds filling the room being the occasional winces and grunts from Natasha when the pain hurts a little more. Each time you mumbled a quick "sorry" before continuing.

"Are you mad at me?" Natasha spoke into the quiet air.

You didn't answer right away which just worried her even more, but when you did it wasn't the answer she was expecting.

"No," you responded, "I'm not mad at you. You just scared me, I mean what were you even thinking?"

“I don’t know,” the redhead said, “I don’t even know if I was thinking. I just…reacted.”

Natasha watched your concentrated face. Sometimes she couldn't help but just stare at it. At this point she had every detail of it memorized like the back of her hand. Which wasn't very helpful when she was currently being scolded by you.

"Did you even have any of your equipment when you decided to pick a fight with them?" you asked.

The young knight shook her head, "No, but I couldn't just watch it happen. There were four of them and one of them had a knife. I had to do something or else people might’ve gotten hurt.”

“People did get hurt, Natasha. You got hurt.”

Natasha hung her head in defeat at your words. “I know.” she said. “I know and I’m sorry for putting you through this. You shouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of my actions. It’s not fair to you.”

You sighed and put down the supplies you were using so you could finally look at her. She held a guilty expression and it made you feel bad for getting upset with her. Your hand came up to her face in an attempt to wipe away some of the dirt with your thumb and fix her messy hair.

“Nat, I get that you just wanted to do the right thing. That’s one of the things I love most about you.” you spoke softly and she gave you a small smile, “I just worry so much. This could’ve been so much worse than some bruises and a knife wound.”

“I got lucky, I know.” she admitted. “Yelena was right I should’ve listened to her and it was stupid of me not to.”

Your gaze went back and forth between both of her eyes. You could’ve gotten lost in her vibrant green orbs if you didn’t still have to finish patching her up before someone came looking for you.

“Just promise me that you’ll be more careful going forward. I don’t want this to ever happen again because I love you too much to be able to handle it if it did.”

Natasha quickly nodded her head, “I promise, and I love you too.”

You leaned in to connect your lips in a soft kiss, needing a reminder that she was here with you and safe.

The redhead obviously didn’t want you to pull away with the way she chased after your lips when you pulled back. You had to press your hand against her chest in order to keep a distance between the two of you.

“As much as I would love to keep going, I think you might need a few stitches to help that shoulder heal.” you said.

Natasha just groaned. She wasn’t even sure if the dissatisfaction she felt was because she had to go through the pain of getting stitches, or because you broke the kiss. The redhead came to the conclusion that it was because of both.

The noise made you giggle and you began sifting through the first aid kit for a needle and some thread. “I’ve only ever practiced this using fruits, so bear with me. I still think you should’ve gone to the doctor instead.”

She just shrugged her uninjured shoulder, “Why would I when I have my own personal nurse right here. And she’s cute too.” Natasha smirked.

You playfully rolled your eyes at that last comment, “Don’t get too ahead of yourself there. I still have to take a look at those knuckles and clean your face up.”

“What? I thought you liked my face.” she pouted.

“You know I do, but I don’t like the fact that it looks as if someone just dragged you through the dirt.”

Natasha scoffed, “For the record, I won, of course. They were after that bakery you love by the boats. The owner said that my next order would be on the house as a thanks for my help, so I think you should be thanking me.” she spoke proudly.

You just stared at your girlfriend in disbelief. As much as you didn’t understand how she was able to laugh and joke about the situation, you appreciated it because it took your mind off of the bad thoughts that clouded your mind.

It reminded you that your Natasha was still there and you couldn’t be more grateful for her.

“Instead of thinking about that you should be figuring out how you’re going to hide this from your parents when they come back from their trip.”

~ end ~

[trentln4]

"An Unspoken Love"- Part one

Summary: Lando had a girl round and Y/N went out clubbing. The next morning they talk before sharing an intimate kiss, which Y/N thinks just ruined their friendship..

Genre: fluff

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Series

Sunlight trinkled in from the small gap in the curtains, lighting up the kitchen as she sat on one of the kitchen stools at the island, her head in her hands. 

“Morning,” Lando said, walking out of his bedroom in only sweatpants on with the waistband of his Calvin Kleins popping out slightly. Y/N lifted her head out her hands and smiled faintly at him, her headache from the previous night pounding. 

“Rough night, ay?” He asked, pouring her a glass of water, giving her a sympathetic smile.

“Mhm,” She replied, smiling gratefully for the water, taking a big sip, hoping and praying the headache would go away..

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make you go out.. just you don't normally enjoy it when I have girls round,” Lando chuckled. Y/N shook her head, 

“Do you know how thin our walls are? I hear everything Lan,” She muttered back. 

The nickname “Lan” made his heart do a little summersault. It was a nickname only she really used, something she made up when they were in Year 8 together in secondary school.

“But anyways, how was your night?” Y/N asked, after taking another sip of her water.

“Meh, it was good,” Lando replied.

“Magui right?” She questioned and Lando nodded in answer,

“Don’t get me wrong she's sweet, and pretty but not what I want.. so I cut it off last night, so she’s long gone.”

Y/N looked shocked.

“What, I thought it was getting serious?” But Lando shook his head,

“She isn’t the one for me..” As he spoke those words, he looked directly at her. His eyes silently admiring and worshipping her, as she sat there sipping her water. 

“Fair, better to cut it off then lead her on,” She said back, and he nodded in agreement before stretching slightly. Y/N couldn’t help but stare at his muscles, the way the sun shone on them showing off every detail. Wow.

“How was your night? Which club did you go to?” Lando asked.

“Oh yeah, it was good. We went to the club near the yacht docks,” She spoke back, smiling and pulling one of her legs up to her chest, “I got with this guy from Uni, he was hot.. but he fingered me and wasn't that good so I faked it.”

Lando burst out laughing, shocked but amused however also slightly turned on. He could picture you, pinned against the club wall, someone knuckle deep in you. But that person wasn’t him, and he wanted it to be. He took a second to recompose himself before speaking, 

“You faked it?” Y/N sheepishly nodded and took another sip of water before opening her phone and messaging someone.

After a minute or two, she spoke up, “Are you hungry?”

“So fucking hungry..” Lando muttered back. 

“What shall we order in?” She asked, laughing at his reply.

“Can we just get McDonalds?” Y/N nodded.

“I’ll have a double mcmuffin then please,” Lando said. She placed the order on the app before paying and placing her phone down, stretching slightly. Her top rode up as she did so, revealing her flat stomach. Lando couldn't help but stare before immediately turning away. Y/N hopped of the stool, turning to him, 

“Shall we finish Prison Break?” She asked, excitedly. Lando nodded and followed her into the living room. 

They sat on the big sofa together. She had her legs tucked to her chest, meanwhile he spread his legs wide and rested his arm on the back of the sofa behind her. As the show went on, Lando kept stealing glances at her. Admiring her side profile, her hair which was beautifully plaited and her body in that grey top and white joggers. Gorgeous girl. All he ever thought of her.

She noticed him glancing at her, and looked at him. His blue eyes locked with her hazel brown. Normally she would’ve turned away, but no, it felt different.

The background noise of the TV seemed to disappear, and all she could think about was him, his lips, everything. She had wanted him forever. 

A second passed and Lando wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling Y/N closer. His other hand cupped her cheek, and he leaned forward. 

She was practically trembling as their lips collided in a sweet and passionate kiss. God, this is the only thing either of them ever wanted: each other. The kiss was soft and slow, full of tenderness and a subtle under layer of something neither could figure out. But it was interrupted. 

Knock, knock.

Y/N pulled away, a small smile on her face. She quickly stood up,

“I should get that, it's our food..” She mumbled before leaving the living room, leaving Lando alone.

Fuck. Have I just ruined everything with my best friend? Was all she could think. She had liked him for god knows how long, but never wanted to damage their friendship. However, she was too oblivious to have realised Lando wanted her too.

[hannahbarberra162]

Hello 😊

I read some of your work and I really love them!

“Struck twice by lightning” is my favorite one 😍

I would like to request a drabble, if it’s ok for you…

Nsfw, Hongo (doctor of red haired pirates) x fem reader.

Have a nice day 💖

Well, I'm only 2 months late! Here you go, I hope you like it <3

Thank you to @gouraminnow and @sordidmusings for keeping me on the right track and reading / commenting on the second draft 600 months after the first.

Teacher's Pet

Hongo x Reader, ~2.9k, NSFW at the end.

“I mean, its pretty straightforward,” Hongo said, flexing Lucky’s big toe forwards and backwards as the chef winced. Lucky Roux was sitting on top of a crate by the docks as the Red Force was being loaded with cargo. They’d come to the island earlier that day but Hongo never liked to wait to buy his supplies. Medical supplies didn't spoil in the sun, so he always got his goods when he first hit town and once his duties were done he was able to enjoy partying and drinking with the crew. Hongo considered the massive foot on his lap as he palpated Lucky’s big toe again. 

 “You said you hit it on a barrel, it’s sprained but not broken. I’ll wrap it for you and you should keep off you feet until -”

“It’s not sprained Hogo,” a sing song voice called out to the doctor. Hongo stiffened - he hadn’t heard that nickname in years. Hongo’s eyes scanned the crowd, eagerly looking for the source among the throng of women coming to see and fawn over Shanks and Benn. Unable to locate who he was searching for, Hongo hadn’t realized his grip had tightened on Lucky’s foot until the larger man yelped and yanked back his foot. Hongo frowned and began to apologize to his crew mate.

“Sorry Lucky, I thought I thought I heard -”

“You heard another doctor correcting your assessment. That’s the beginning stages of gout, Hongo. Not a sprain,” you said while Lucky’s foot as you stepped out from behind the crates. Whipping his head around to see you, Hongo took a deep breath to center himself and hopefully embarrass himself less as he took in your gorgeous form. He’d never been able to keep his cool around you, not all those years ago and apparently not now either. Hongo hadn’t seen you since medical school but recognized you immediately. You were a little older but looked just as lovely as the last time he saw you in medical school before he dropped out.

“Hi Hogo, remember me?,” you said, waggling your fingers at him. Hongo realized he was staring at you, Lucky’s foot still in his hand. Setting his friend’s foot down, Hongo wiped his hands on his pants before facing you fully. 

“Still as hygenic as ever I see,” you teased, setting yourself down on the crate next to his own. Hongo flushed, he’d been with the Red Haired Pirates for so long it had become second nature to wipe his hands on his clothes when they weren’t covered in booze or blood. Lucky turned from looking at you to Hongo as a wide smile appeared on his face.

“And who’re you? Hongo never said he knew a pretty lady on this island,” Lucky said, already reaching for the drumstick he set next to his seat on the crate. You reached out and smacked his hand, taking the drumstick away from him in one fell swoop. You ignored Lucky’s question to ask one of your own to Hongo.

“What does the diet of a pirate on the Red Force look like?” you asked, swinging your feet as they dangled off the crate.

“Heavy in red meat, fish and crustaceans, and especially alcohol,” he said with an annoyed air. He’d forgotten how smarmy you could be when you were right and he was wrong.

“And Hongo, if a patient has the beginning stages of gout, what should they refrain from eating and drinking?” you asked in a singsong tone, twirling the bone in your delicate hands. Hongo huffed and crossed his hands across his chest.

“A patient with the beginning stages of gout should refrain from eating red meat, a diet heavy in fish and crustaceans and avoid drinking alcohol,” he answered, still unamused.

“WHA - I can’t do that! No, no, this is just a sprain I hit my foot on a crate, tell her Hongo, c’mon tell her-” Lucky started begging as his favorite foods practically flashed before his eyes. Hongo pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.  He couldn’t believe he’d missed it himself, he should really be thanking you. The sprained toe was a red herring and he’d fallen for it like some first year medical student.

“Unfortunately Lucky, she’s right. You have gout in your left big toe. You’re gonna have to change your diet otherwise you’ll be in excruciating pain. It’s ok though, we’ll all do it with ya. It will be good for us to all be a little healthier,” Hongo said, placating the chef. After a moment of consideration he added, “probably not the alcohol though, you’re on your own for that one.” Lucky gave Hongo a horrified look and quickly put his shoe back on. Your tinkling laugh filled the air, making Hongo flush once more.

“I’m gonna - you - I…I’m gonna tell Captain what you said. He can - he can override you!” Lucky stammered, looking at you like you were the devil incarnate. Lucky gave one last horrified look before limping off to find his errant Captain. You laughed as Hongo sighed, still eating the meat off the bone.

“‘S good, I can see why he’s reluctant to stop,” you said after chewing and swallowing another bite. 

“Yeah, Lucky’s one of the best chefs on the seas. Good enough for an Emperor,” he said proudly.

“And his doctor isn’t? C’mon Hogo, that was sloppy work,” you chided, setting down the meat. Hongo remembered this side of you so clearly from medical school - you always rubbed things in his face when he got them wrong. The two of you were always vying for highest scores in class, but you always seemed to eek by and win the top spot by a few points. Hongo didn’t retort to your comment but he did stand up and brush off his now soiled pants.

“Oh, don’t be a sore loser, it really was nice seeing you again,” you said, standing up yourself. You extended your hand for a handshake and Hongo almost laughed. You had been the number one star of his sexual fantasies all of his formative years, he’d probably spent just as much time wondering what your tits looked like under your medical coat as he did poring over medical texts. He wasn’t going to blow the opportunity to finally hear what you sounded like when you came if he could swing it. Fate had your paths crossing again and fortune favored the bold.

Grabbing your hand, he pulled you close to his chest as if in a dancer’s pose. You were flush to him as he wrapped his arm around your waist. 

“H-hongo! What are you -”

“Come to dinner with me,” he said, your face close enough to his own where he could move a hair forward and your lips would touch. 

“You can’t just do that to people! What if I have a boyfriend or husband?” you sputtered, trying to push Hongo back to create space between you. He didn’t let you but pressed you even closer to his front, so close he could detect the faint smell of rubbing alcohol always present on any practicing doctor.

“Do you?” Hongo challenged, sure of the answer. He wasn’t sure why, he just trusted his gut that you were single.

“Well, no,” you huffed, the air from your mouth moving your stray hairs out of your face in a gesture Hongo remembered all too well.

“Then say yes to dinner with me tonight.” You bit your lip but he saw the same determined glance you made when you finally cracked a difficult diagnosis.

“Yes.”

A few hours and drinks later and the two of you were walking near the island’s main drag under the light of the moon on the way back to your house. Hongo had regaled you with stories of the Red Haired Pirates and the adventures they’d been on and you’d filled him in on the life you’d had since he’d left medical school. He noticed early on that you were vague about the details of your life and had shifted the conversation to be mostly about him and his adventures on the high seas with the Emperor and his crew.

What he had gotten out of you was that you were the island’s top ranked physician - which didn’t surprise Hongo in the slightest. The island was a rich and well liked summer island, known for its fine weather and beautiful scenery, and you had worked your way to the top. 

“So no husbands or boyfriends in all those years?” Hongo prodded, reaching for your hand. You let him take it and he threaded his fingers around your own and swung your hands as you continued to walk. 

“Mm, there were some. But no one worth talking about,” you said, your eyes shifting to look at the distance. Hongo frowned, there was something there, but he didn’t want to prod and ruin the nice mood between you. “What about you, Hogo? A woman at every port?” you teased, switching the conversation yet again back to him. Hongo was about to answer when he saw a familiar cloak flapping in the wind as a figure left a rowdy bar down the street. Hongo clung to the slim hope that his Captain would let things lie, or maybe not even see him but after so many years together, Hongo knew in his heart that the outcome was already set in stone. 

“Hongo! Over here!” Shanks yelled, waving his arm in the air. Hongo exhaled through his nose as your attention shifted to Shanks. Maybe - maybe - Shanks wouldn’t put together who you were to Hongo. Many years prior, once and only once, when Hongo had been blackout drunk he’d mentioned you to Shanks. You were the girl he always wished he would have asked out when he had the chance, the one who got away, the only girl who ever made him flustered enough to yell - and you’d yelled right back. 

Everyone including the Captain had been completely trashed and Shanks teased Hongo relentlessly that night about his little classmate who bested him in every subject and hadn't let under her skirt. Hongo prayed Shanks wouldn’t remember past the next day when the crew was so hungover everyone but Beckman was puking over the side of the ship. 

Hongo held his breath as Shanks sidled up to you and Hongo. Shanks put on his most charismatic smile and introduced himself. “Hiya Hongo! Fancy seeing you here tonight. I was wondering where you were, you weren’t in the keg stand competition with us. Seems you’re off on a date with a beautiful lady,” Shanks said, flipping his hair out of his eyes and flashing his smile again. You smiled back and Hongo’s grip on your hand tightened slightly.

“Captain, this is -” Hongo started to introduce you before his Captain cut him off.

“I know who she is, she went to medical school with you, right? Lucky told me an evil doctor proved you wrong by the docks. Could only be one person, yeah? You mentioned her intelligence over the years but not how lovely she is,” Shanks said with a grin, taking your free hand and kissing it with a bow. You giggled and sported a shy smile as Hongo’s drinks soured in his stomach. Stupid charismatic Captain.

“Pleased to meet you, Emperor,” you said formally with a small bow of your own.

“Ah, for an old friend of an old friend, I’m just Shanks,” Shanks said easily. Making eye contact with Hongo, Shanks continued with a smirk, “enjoy the night, don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.”  

“That doesn’t really rule anything out besides drinking water regularly,” Hongo said under his breath. You and Shanks laughed as the Captain began to saunter away. 

“Have a good night, Hogo,” Shanks said in a sing song voice. Hongo took a deep breath to prevent himself from yelling at his own Captain.

Shanks remembered. 

~

“Ah, ah. That is not the correct answer. Read from the book in front of you,” Hongo said as he smacked your (already red) ass again. You were bent over the desk in your office, your medical coat and skirt flipped up as Hongo thrust into you at an even pace. You were still in your heels from the date and the tiny underwear he’d pulled down were now tangled around your ankles. His own come was forming a creamy ring around the base of his cock as he continued to fuck you silly.

“I-it is n-not possible for a p-patient to ha-hah hah-have both type 1 and type 2 diab-betes -”

“You see? A proper student will always nnh be diligent in their studies, never negligent. Isn’t that right?” Hongo asked, his right hand rubbing strong circles on your clit. His left hand was fisted in your hair, keeping you in perfect position to read from the medical textbook in front of you on the desk. You’d already come on his cock once that night but he wasn’t giving you any quarter to hide. Taking you bent over a desk in your lab coat was Hongo’s primary fantasy for years, he wasn’t about to stop now. It had been a challenge to convince you to put the lab coat on but it was paying off now that his younger fantasies were coming to life.

“B-but that’s not true,” you whined, panting as he increased his pace in both his thrusts and on your clit.

“What does the b-book say?” he asked as he felt your combined juices between his fingers. He was close to his own release but he never wanted this night to end. His only regret was that he wasn’t able to fuck you in every position simultaneously - but the night was still young.

“Must I repeat myself? What does the textbook say on the matter?” Hongo said in as stern a voice as he could imagine. He was throwing some of the barbs you’d tossed at him in medical school back at you as you writhed beneath him. This evening was playing out just like his distracted visions all those years previously.

“B-but this is out-outdated information - patients with type 1 diabetes can develooooHH~” your words were cut off as he gently released your hair and used his hand to push on your lower back, pinning you further to the desk and increasing the pressure on your gspot. If he could have, he would have gotten the little student desks he was crammed in back then to bend you over but your official looking desk was a great second choice. He knew you were right, the book was outdated but he didn’t feel like having that particular discussion at that moment.

“H-Hongo, I’m close, I’m gonna -” Hongo smacked your ass cheek hard and removed his fingers from your clit, making you wail your displeasure. Hongo pushed you further up the desk and flipped you over, taking your panties off your ankles and throwing them behind him. Your feet were on his shoulders as he pushed himself back into you before starting to thrust again.

“Good students ask before coming,” Hongo said, gritting his teeth against his own pleasure. He wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of knowing he was barely holding on while you were also riding the edge. He put his thumb back where his fingers were previously but didn’t start rubbing again.

“No - please! Please, let me come, please Hongo -” Hongo hummed and rubbed your clit slowly, much to your dismay.

“Say that I’m right,” Hongo growled in your ear.

“You’re right, you’re ri-ight, I’m wrong  -” Hongo nearly came on the spot after finally hearing the words he’d yearned for so long. He sped up the circles on your clit with his thumb and pressed down on your lower stomach with the other hand. Your lower back arched up to try to escape the sensation but Hongo easily kept you in place. He was fucking you roughly, the lovely tits he’d been waiting decades to see bouncing as he filled you to the brim.

“I can’t - can’t -” you begged, your hands trying to dislodge his own from your stomach. Hongo guessed the feeling was overwhelming but he wasn’t relenting. Your whining increased as Hongo felt the pulsing of your tight pussy getting ready for release. Removing his hand, Hongo lightly smacked your clit, making you hoarsely yell your orgasm into the night. He kept rubbing your clit through your high, happy to see you losing yourself over his cock. When you’d finally come down from your high, your chest was flushed as you sucked in deep breaths of air.

“Good girl,” Hongo said, leaning over to kiss you sweetly. Your cheeks reddened and you looked away but you didn’t say anything further. Hongo pulled out and picked you up, carrying you over to the loveseat in your office. Settling you on his lap, Hongo started pecking your shoulders affectionately, giving you time to recover. You were a little out of it, blissed out as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“B-but, you didn’t come -” you said, picking your head up.

“Don’t worry. We’ve only covered the skeletal and endocrine system. There’s nine other organ systems I’ll be testing you on.”

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff

[pipsqueaks89934]

please make more merman stories, i love it sm and its so hard to find merman x reader that this good

anyways don't forget to drink water to stay healthy and have a good day! <33

YAY MY FIRST ASK! 🥳

Thank you, I don't like the taste of water it is the lack of taste that I hate. (╥﹏╥)

Yandere Merman x Marine Biologist reader part 3

Warnings: broken ankle, Yandere stuff

You've been home for about a week or so and Wade is always near you but the good news is Wade lets you continue your Marine biology work. He sometimes helps you study and learn more about the ocean and its creatures. The only part that made you worry was when you had to talk to your boss/teacher about why you were gone for so long without a word. You ended up lying to him about being in a car wreck and being in the hospital for all the time that you missed because you ended up having a broken ankle. You have proof that since Wade did break your ankle, you did have to go to the hospital so they could fix it. Since your boss/teacher was strict you were scared that he would fire or kick you out of the course but he was understanding and gave you extra time to turn in your assignments that you missed while you were out. After he sent you what you missed you immediately got to work on the assessments because you didn't want to fall even more behind in the class than you already were but it was kind of hard to focus on anything since Wade kept bothering you and trying to get your attention.

“Guppy, why don't you come swim with me?” Wade asked with a whine as he rubbed your legs as you sat on the dock with your legs in the water while typing on your computer.

“Wade once I finish I promise I'll swim with you but I have a few more research reports that I have to finish,” you explained while trying to figure out how to answer the question. “I don't know the answer to this question!”

“I can help you with that,” Wade said with a smile as he tried to look at the computer. “What is it?”

“What is the biggest ocean animal that has ever lived,” you said while trying to think. “I don't know if he means dating back to the dinosaur period or now.”

“I would just say the blue whale and if he says it's wrong explain that you didn't understand the question,” Wade explains while rubbing your legs again. “Can you swim now?”

“Well…” you say as you get up from the dock.

“What?” Wade asked as he looked at you with confusion.

“I need to get some pictures of some underwater animals, print them out, and send them to my teacher,” you explain while you reach the door to your house. “I'm going to need your help getting them so I'm going to change into my snorkeling gear, get the underwater cameras, and re-wrap my ankle so I can swim with it.”

You waddled inside the house so you could do everything you needed to before coming back out with the cameras.

“Can you help me get in?” you asked Wade as you handed him one of the cameras.

“Of course,” he said while helping you in the water. “So what animals do you need pictures of?”

“Batfish, parrotfish, clownfish, zebra shark, and black tip shark,” you said as you got used to the water. “I was thinking that you took half the pictures and I took the other half of the pictures.”

“I'll get the pictures of the sharks while you get the pictures of the other fish since I don't want you near them,” Wade said as you too started swimming. “I'll come find you when I'm done.”

You nodded your head before you and Wade parted ways so you too could find some fish. Since your ankle was wrapped up you had a hard time swimming but since you wrapped it well it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would but it still made it hard to swim. Wade got the pictures fairly quickly and came to find you once he got them. You on the other hand didn't get any pictures in the time of almost 30 minutes. After a while, you decided to go up and get some air so you could think about ways to get the pictures. Wade found you while you were getting some air so he decided to join you.

“Hey, guppy,” Wade said as he swam up beside you. “I got those pictures you asked for.”

“Really?” you asked while looking at him in surprise. “That fast?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile as he held up the camera. “How many have you gotten?”

“None,” you said with a pout. “It's hard to swim and the fish keep swimming away from me!”

“Aw, guppy,” Wade said while hugging you. “I can help you if you want?”

“Thanks,” you said before Wade pulled away. “Let's get those pictures now.”

You both went back underwater and started looking for the fish. Once you found them Wade swam to them and got the pictures for you. Wade let you take some of the pictures of the fish but at a distance so you wouldn't scare them away. Once you got all the pictures you needed Wade helped you back to the dock near your beach house so you could take a break.

“Thanks for helping me today,” you said as Wade helped you on the dock. “It helped me out.”

“It's me who should be thanking you,” he said as he pulled himself up on the dock. “I like it when you ask me for help besides I know how you can make it up to me.”

“How?” you asked while looking at him as you stood up.

“In bed tonight but right now you should get a shower,” Wade said while following you inside the house once his tail changed into legs. “You don't want to smell like the sea do you?”

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Keegan's Girl Chapter 1

Summary:  Y/N was Keegan’s girl.  Until she wasn’t.  The team would never be the same, and Ghost respected that.  But after years of trauma, pain, grief and loneliness, he still never stopped loving her.  Is it too late?  Or wrong?  Or is it just right?

**Keegan x reader **Konig x reader **Ghost x reader

Warnings: major character death; mentions of death; grief; depression; smut; language

Next chapter

**pictures from TikTok= Keegan is @kpruss86; Konig is @coser_boba; Ghost/Simon is @simon.ghost00

“We drop in 60 seconds,” Konig barked over the comms.

“Copy,” Ghost replied.  He turned to look back at Keegan, who was holding Y/N.  He quickly looked away to let them have their moment, the pain in his heart still stinging.  He had deep, romantic feelings for Y/N for years now, but Keegan had beaten him to asking her out all that time ago.  He’d just never been able to gain the courage, so he suffered in silence as his friend and his love were happy together.

“Got your six,” Keegan breathed as his forehead rested against her forehead.

“Got your six,” Y/N whispered.  She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him through his mask.  She pulled away from him, giving him a wink before heading to the med bay behind them.  Keegan smiled then joined Ghost and Konig at the loading dock that was opening over the drop point.

“Ready boys?” Keegan asked, giving them both a cocked eyebrow.

“Looks like a good day to die,” Ghost smirked.

Konig snickered.  “Drop in 3…2…1…Go!”

***

The mission went to shit almost the moment they hit the ground.  The intel was bad, and instead of a quick stealth mission to find information and blow the place to shit, they were ambushed and pushed into a corner.  Ghost was quickly running out of ammo.  “Backup!  We need backup!” he yelled through the comms again, repeating the coordinates.  “Answer me, dammit!”  There was a crackle in his radio, then nothing.  He swore heavily as he moved position, finding himself next to Keegan.  “Where are they?” he asked, shooting another insurgent.  

“Your guess is as good as mine!” Keegan yelled back.  He shot off a few more rounds before ducking down and reloading.  “That’s my last mag.”

“I’m on my last,” Ghost replied.  “Konig?  Where are you?”

He heard a grunt over the comms and panted breaths.  “By the river.  I see the chopper.  They’re headed your way.  Meet you in 2.”

“Hurry,” Ghost said.  He turned to Keegan again, who was about to stand back up and shoot, when he saw a soldier coming at them from the side.  “Keegs!” Ghost screamed, aiming and shooting at the man.  Keegan whirled around to shoot but it was too late.  He was hit, his body convulsing and falling backwards just as Ghost’s bullet killed the opposing man.  “No!” Ghost ran up and pulled Keegan up out of the mud.  Keegan’s eyes were wide, looking around wildly as his breathing staggered.  Ghost held him up, checking where the gunshot was, and upon seeing the blood pouring out of his chest he groaned.  “Keegs is hit!” he yelled into his radio.  “I repeat, Keegs is hit!  We need medical, now!” 

Finally the chopper could be heard overhead just as he saw Konig running towards them.  Konig helped lift Keegan as it landed and they rushed toward it, bullets raining down around them.  They jumped on and it lifted immediately, the gunner shooting at the insurgents as they quickly flew back.  Keegan was set onto a bed in the med bay and Y/N came running up.  “Keegs,” she breathed as she started ripping his vest off.  “Don’t you dare die on me, you fucker, you hear me?” she growled as she started doing everything she could to stop the bleeding, trying to get him stabilized.

Keegan chuckled then coughed as he watched her.  “Sorry, babes, I don’t…I don’t think this is gonna end well.”

“Stop it!” she yelled at him.  “You’re not dying on me.  Not today.  Come on!” she fluttered her hands around him, switching out bloody gauze for new gauze that quickly matched the red ones.  She barked at her med bay partner for more supplies and they quickly ran to the supply closet, grabbing more gauze and needles and medicine.

“Y/N,” Keegan panted.  “Look at me,” he pleaded, his eyebrows knitted together in pain.

Y/N shook her head as her partner brought over the supplies and started trying to help her.  “No, Keegs, come on.  You gotta hold on for me, we’ll be there soon,” she said, her voice wobbling as the tears that she was fighting started to fall down her face.  Ghost and Konig could only stand back and watch, both of them panting from the exertion of the mission and the panic at the scene in front of them.

Keegan looked over at Ghost.  “Simon,” he pleaded, reaching a gloved hand out to him.  “Take care of her for me.”

Ghost walked over to him and took his hand.  “I won’t need to mate, you’re gonna be okay.”  He knew as he said it that it wasn’t true.  Keegan squeezed his hand and Ghost nodded.  

Keegan gave him a nod back.  He then turned back to Y/N.  “Babes,” he whispered.  Y/N finally stopped, looking at him, her face scrunched in pain.  “I’m sorry,” he smiled at her.  Y/N shook her head as she leaned down close to his face, her hands coming up to grasp his other hand and then cradle his face in her palm.  “I was gonna marry you, you know?” he said quietly.  “The ring is in my dresser, in the top drawer,” he gasped in pain, his body starting to shake.  Y/N’s lips trembled and she shook her head again.  “I was gonna…ugh, I was gonna ask…make it all sweet and corny,” he said shakily.  

Y/N whimpered and reached up to pull down his mask.  She leaned down and kissed his lips.  “I say yes,” she cried.  “I love you, Keegs.  Please stay.  Fight and stay so you can marry me.”

Keegan’s body was shaking worse, his breaths becoming more shuddered and shallow.  “I wish I could, Y/N,” he smiled at her, tears streaming down the sides of his eyes.  “One more kiss, please…”  Y/N quickly leaned in and kissed him again.  She leaned her forehead against his forehead.  

“I love you babes.  Even if I’m not here, I’ve always got your six,” he whispered.

“Got your six,” she whispered.  Keegan smiled wider, then huffed a laugh before he gasped again, letting out a hum, then his eyes fluttered closed and he sighed his final breath.

Y/N gasped, freezing as she watched his eyes close.  Nobody moved, the last bit of hope being sucked from the room with his sigh.  Ghost was crying, still holding Keegan’s other hand that was now limp.  He turned and looked at Konig standing behind Y/N in shock, then at the other med bay attendant, who met his gaze and then looked at his watch.  “Time of death, 2200 hours, 14 minutes.”  Y/N dropped Keegan’s hand and fell back, Konig catching her before she hit the floor.  Ghost quickly set Keegan’s hand down and rounded the bed, kneeling down in front of her.  She was crying silently, her eyes distant and her face pale.  She looked dead, like Keegan had taken her soul with him.

“I’m so sorry, love,” Ghost whispered to her, taking her hands as Konig tried to keep her upright.  He sniffed hurriedly to keep his composure.  “I’m so sorry…”

Y/N just sat there, her head leaning back against Konig’s shoulder.  Her eyes eventually registered him in front of her, and she finally came back to herself.  She curled in on herself between the two of them, her face scrunching in pain again and her breathing becoming ragged.  She inhaled deeply then let out the worst sound Ghost had ever heard.  He flinched at the unearthly wail, and released her hands to reach for her face.  Ghost was trying to speak to her, but she was beyond hearing, her grief overtaking her.  She screamed and screamed as they flew back to base until her throat gave out and the med attendant sedated her.

***

Hours later, after Keegan’s body had been carted off the chopper and mission reports were done, Ghost walked into Y/N and Keegan’s room.  Y/N was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed, holding a ring box and staring at the ring inside.  He slowly walked over to her and sat next to her on the bed.  “Love?” he said quietly.  Y/N didn’t move.  She was still silently crying, the tears never ending since she woke up from being sedated.  He turned to face her more and reached out, setting his hand over hers.  “Y/N?”

She blinked and slowly looked up at him.  She looked dazed, a brief recognition in her red-rimmed, puffy eyes.  “Simon,” she whispered.  Her voice was broken after the screaming from earlier.  

He gave her a small smile.  “Hey love,” he stroked her hand with his thumb.  “What can I do to help?”

Y/N shook her head.  “I don’t know,” she sniffed.  “I’m…I feel…”

Simon nodded.  “I know,” he said.  He’d lost so much throughout his life, gone through so much that he had an idea of what it was she was going through, but he’d never lost a deep love like she had.  Y/N nodded and looked back at the ring.  “Can I see it?” Simon asked.  Y/N numbly handed the box to him and he took it gingerly.  It was a beautiful ring.  Keegan must have saved for a while to get it for her.  He looked back at her.  “He had great taste,” he chuckled lightly.  “Do you wanna wear it?”

“No,” she said automatically.  “Wouldn’t feel right…”

Simon hummed.  “How about this?” he said.  He gave her back the ring box and then reached his hands behind his neck.  He took off the simple chain he wore under his shirt, then took the ring from the box.  He hung the ring onto the chain and then held it up to her.  “That way you can wear it, but not…like you would have,” he said.  Y/N looked at the ring on the chain and blinked back tears as she nodded.  She turned so her back was facing him and he put the necklace around her neck, clasping it as she adjusted it down her chest.  She turned to face him again, her fingers holding the ring and setting it down low on her sternum.  

Y/N looked back up at him as a fresh wave of tears fell down her face.  She whimpered as she held the ring between her fingers.  “Si…” she cried.  “What do I do now?” she leaned forward until her forehead rested against his shoulder and he hugged her, pulling her closer and holding her.

“I don’t know, love,” he whispered, his voice trembling. He kissed the top of her head through his mask. “But I’ll always be here for you.”   

**I just wanna say I'm so sorry! Made myself cry with this one. Hope you guys wanna see more! Coming soon...**

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

“Grumpy Hearts and Sunshine Shoulders”

Wrecker x Female Reader

⸻

The ocean was too blue. The sky was too clear. The people were too… happy.

It annoyed you.

Not because it was bad—it wasn’t. Pabu was a dream. A sanctuary. A rare piece of untouched paradise in a galaxy still licking its wounds. But after everything you’d seen, done, survived, the cheerfulness of it all hit you like sunburn on old scars.

So when Wrecker waved at you the first morning you arrived—big smile, bigger voice, bouncing down the stone steps like a gundark on caf—you nearly turned around and left.

But you didn’t.

You stayed. You unpacked. You avoided him for two days.

And then?

He showed up outside your door with a grin and a crate of fresh fruit.

“You need help settin’ up?” he asked, already peeking past your shoulder like he owned the place.

You crossed your arms. “You just looking for an excuse to snoop?”

Wrecker blinked, then grinned wider. “Only a little.”

You tried not to smile. You failed. He saw.

“You smiled! I saw it, so no denying it!” he said, delighted, as if he’d won a war.

“That wasn’t a smile. That was… mild amusement. Don’t get cocky.”

“Oh, your smile is so beautiful!” he declared, plopping the crate on your counter like he lived there. “I’d love to see it more often.”

You raised a brow. “Flattery? Really?”

“Not flattery,” he said, serious for a second. “Just the truth.”

And just like that, your walls cracked a little.

⸻

A week passed. Then two. You stopped flinching when he knocked. You started helping him haul supplies. You let him drag you into town gatherings, always with the same grin and the same cheer.

“You’re definitely the only person I would do this for,” you grumbled once, dragging your boots through the sand on the way to a lantern festival.

“I know!” Wrecker beamed, looping a thick arm around your shoulder. “I’m special.”

“You’re loud.”

“I’m charming.”

You snorted. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You smiled again.”

“Damn it.”

⸻

One night, you found yourself sitting beside him on the docks. The moon cast silver streaks across the water, and Wrecker was humming some out-of-tune melody you didn’t recognize.

“You ever stop being cheerful?” you asked quietly.

He shrugged. “Used to. After Crosshair left, and after Echo… yeah. I had some bad days. Real bad. But Omega helped. So did Pabu.”

You nodded slowly.

He looked at you, more thoughtful now. “You got bad days too, huh?”

You didn’t answer right away.

Then, quietly: “Sometimes it feels wrong to enjoy peace. Like I haven’t earned it.”

Wrecker shifted closer. His hand brushed yours, warm and solid. “You don’t gotta earn peace. You just gotta accept it.”

You looked at him, brow tight. “You make it sound easy.”

He grinned. “Nah. It ain’t. But I’m here. Omega’s here. You’re not alone.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“I’ll do it,” you whispered after a long pause, “but only because you asked me to.”

“Do what?”

You finally leaned your head against his shoulder.

“Try. To enjoy it. This place. You.”

Wrecker’s face turned redder than a sunset. “Well, hey, no pressure, but—I really like it when you smile.”

You chuckled.

Then, finally—finally—you smiled again.

[fuctacles]

Sha-la-la-la-la-la, don't be scared

@stmonstercalendar bingo prompts: Lighthouse, science, offering T | 2.7k | Stayne | lighthouse keeper Wayne, kid Eddie, mer!Steve | Ao3

Lighthouse isn't a good place for a kid. Even if that kid doesn't seem to feel the same, inhaling book after book and fighting the howling wind with his little guitar for the title of the noisier neighbor. 

But orphanage isn't a good place for a kid either, especially when he has a perfectly alive uncle he could be living with. A lighthouse with an uncle is still a better deal than orphanage filled with strangers. 

Or so Wayne thought until Eddie misses lunch one Wednesday. Which would be within his nephew's normal behavior if he was inside, busy with one of his many hobbies, but right after breakfast, he's left to take a stroll on the shore. It's dinner time now, and that's more than enough time to round their small island. Before he makes it the whole village's problem, he goes on a search himself. 

Both their boats are still in place, one at the dock, and the other safely in the shed. He walks the length of the shore once, twice, knows Eddie wouldn't swim to the land, wonders if he got picked up by a friend, worries if he got kidnapped by a foe. Decides to radio the police station on land. 

"Stay put, Wayne," Jim tells him and he hates it. He knows he's right but he hates it anyway. "In case he comes back. I'll keep an eye here and send a search boat."

It doesn't feel like enough but he knows he'd get nothing if anyone other than Hopper had picked up. Eddie has been missing for only a few hours. 

Before he knows it, it's getting dark, and he's watching first flashlights light up on the shore ahead. A proper search team on top of the boat shining a beam at the water. Jim said they've also checked recent activity near the shore, but nothing suspicious stood out to them. 

Wayne wishes he could do more than just stay put and fuel his nerves with caffeine. He's going to take another walk down the shore in a minute, he's lost count which one it will be. The water laps below him and after years of loving the sea, it feels like it's mocking him now. Telling him it took the last of his family away. 

He decides to take the boat this time, before the night takes over completely. Doesn't even finish his coffee, just throws on some extra layers and flashlights and pushes into the water.

"Come on, boy, don't do this to me. Ya little rascal," he mutters at the rippling surface, rowing slowly and watching the world turn into darker hues of blue. He'll have to light his lamp soon.

It's when his lighthouse stands in his view of the shore, that he feels something is wrong. Hairs stand on the back of his neck and he senses danger he doesn't see. Suddenly it's darker than a second before, like the electricity from the town has been aiding him before, like he was now in the narrow shadow cast by his own house. He feels alone, vulnerable, and scared. The sea continues to mock him, splashing gently, serenely almost, against the sides of his boat. 

There's a splash, a cough, and he almost loses his grip on a paddle when he whips around. 

"Hi," Eddie says meekly, sopping wet and smiling shyly. 

"Jesus Christ!" Forgetting the paddles, Wayne launches at him, almost toppling the boat over. He grabs at his soaking clothes, pulling him into the boat and wraps his in his arms. "Where have you been, boy?! I was losing my mind!" He plants a kiss on Eddie's head, not minding the cold seeping through to his own clothes. "We have to get you warm, kid I got the police searching for you!" He laughs for no other reason than the worry leaving him with debilitating violence, leaving only light-headed relief. "Where have you been?"

"I was with Steve," Eddie answers, gripping him back just as tightly, though he can tell he doesn't feel the same distress. Fucking kid will kill him one of these days.

"Who's Steve?" Wayne frowns in confusion, finally pulling away. 

"Hi," a new voice pipes up. 

Behind Eddie, in the dark water, there's a man. A young beautiful thing, just as soaked as the kid. Wayne only stares, slowly, very slowly registering the webbing between the man's fingers, his hand raised in a wave. He gathers Eddie back to his chest.

"What do you want?" he asks, narrowing his eyes. Sea creatures don't just help you out of the goodness of their heart, they always want something. At his age, Wayne hoped he'll never have to face one, and if he did, that he'll be smart enough not to fall for their tricks. But ne never thought his Eddie would be at stake. 

Warily, he observes the merman swim closer to the edge of the boat, his fingers grasping the edge to peek over the hull. He grips this kid tighter, but he squirms around to be able to look too. 

"Touch my lips?" asks Steve the merman. It's not a demand, he sounds like a kid that's not sure what he's asking for, describing a toy only seen in passing or heard of. 

And yet, Wayne feels dread flood his old bones. 

"You want a kiss?" he asks, ignoring Eddie's childish giggle. Nothing good ever comes from kissing a non-human. (And sometimes, bad things come from kissing humans, too.) 

Belatedly, the mer nods, probably only assuming that what they have in mind is the same. 

"I saw humans do it on the piers," he says, cheek leaning on his palms. "As they part and as they greet. They seem happy. I want to try," Steve explains, but Wayne doesn't buy the innocent act for even a second. He knows the huge, dreamy eyes are just an act to trick him.

But he nods, clearing his throat, calculating. 

"Can I take him home first?" he asks. At least, when he gets sucked under the surface and drowned, Eddie will be safe on dry land, and soon, Hopped will come and find him.

"Of course!" Steve grins wide, showing off his sharp teeth. "You must have been worried sick! I'll be right behind you!" He waves to Eddie, who waves back before Wayne can stop him, and ducks under the surface. 

He can only stare at the rippling water left in his wake.

==

Wayne tucks Eddie under the thick blanket at the top floor of their house. He has half a mind to just lead him all the way to the top of the lighthouse, as far from the water ad possible, but he knows this is enough, and if mermaids could walk on land, no amount of stairs would stop them.

"If I don't come back soon, uncle Hop should come here later to check on you. Tell him I went to thank the mer that saved you." Hopper will know it means he's never coming back. 

Eddie nods. 

"Okay. Can you say thanks from me too?" he asks. 

Wayne smiles despite himself, wrapping the boy's wet curls into a towel. 

"Sure."

Suddenly, Eddie gasps, pulling out from under his grip. 

"Is this a date?!" he exclaims with excitement. "Can I have a mer uncle?!" 

He's already had a headache from a whole day of worrying, and now his nephews hyper-speed brain was trying to make it worse. He sighs.

"Explain?" he asks, having found out long ago it's way easier than trying to decipher Eddie's thought process by himself. And the kid is always more than happy to tell him.

"Steve wants to kiss you," Eddie explains giddily. "So it's a date, and if it's a date, then one day you could marry, and then I would have a mer uncle!"

Wayne blinks at him, stunned. 

"I don't think humans and mers can marry," he points out.

Eddie rolls his eyes so hard it looks painful.

"Since when do we care about law?"

"Since we have a kid to keep safe," Wayne points out, rubbing his hair hard and making him yelp. As Eddie untangles himself from the towel, his eyes soften. "I love you, kid."

"Yeah, yeah, love you too," Eddie rolls his eyes again. "Now go get me that mer uncle!" he demands, pushing him away.

"Get you?" Wayne raises his eyebrows, slowly letting the little boy push him towards the door. "How about you go and kiss him, then?" he jokes, one last time. 

Eddie hums in consideration. 

"Steve is pretty," he says, his cheeks flushing pink, and Wayne aches knowing he won't see this boy grow up and fall in love. He can only hope that after finding out what happened to him, he won't go seducing mers left and right. That could end up way worse than falling for a human boy. 

"I'm going, before you steal him from me. Wish me luck." Wayne steps over the threshold of the room. 

Grinning, Eddie gives him a thumbs up, then crosses his fingers for luck.

"Go get him!" he says, and Wayne commits his happy face to memory. 

Somberly, he walks down the long stairwell until he reaches the adjacent boathouse. An old, cobweb-covered light bulb is still lighting in the corner, deepening the shadows around him. As soon as his feet reach the edge of the pier, the mers head pops out of the water. 

If he didn't know any better, he'd think his smile is charming. 

"What's your name?" the mer asks, resting his chin against the pier.

Wayne scoffs.

"I didn't agree to give you my name. I think we're about to get close enough."

"Yeah," Steve smiles, excited despite Wayne's attitude.

"I know I'm in no position to ask for more," he grits trough his teeth as he forces his knees to bend so he can kneel closer to the mer. "But I'd prefer my boy not to hear or see anything."

"Oh." Steve's face turns ruby red. "Uh." He chuckles nervously. "Just the kiss is fine, really," he mumbles awkwardly, running his webbed fingers through his hair.

"Sure." It takes everything in Wayne not to roll his eyes at the blatant lies of a magical creature. "Let's get this over with."

He has no gods to pray to, so without dwelling on his sad life, he closes his eyes, leaning forward. Doesn't pucker his lips, knowing it's not really a kiss, and whatever the mer wants he'll just take from him anyway.

There's a splash of water and he braces himself to meet his fate.

Something wet and soft brushes briefly against his lips. The water splashes again. He waits, not wanting to give the creature the satisfaction of opening his eyes to see the monstrous form the creature might have turned into. Or find out he's surrounded by the blankness of death, though he doubts he'd be let go so painlessly.

It feels like an eternity has passed and he's almost about to open his eyes anyway, when his lips get touched the second time, the mer growing impatient.

Wayne's shoulders fall in resignation. He did say he would kiss him, so he reluctantly moves his lips, hoping it will speed up whatever the mer has in mind for him.

He kisses back. He's kissing a sea creature that will undoubtedly open its jaw wide any moment to bite his head off, or suck his vocal cords out.

It's hardly a kiss, Steve barely copying Wayne's minuscule movements, though with an eager enthusiasm. He pushes harder, hoping to stir him on, push his luck and speed up his own demise.

Why is it toying with him? Does it want to humiliate him first? Will he taste better like this?

He parts his lips and presses with his tongue and suddenly, there is no one to press against. He's falling into the water, finally.

It's arms and scales and fins wrapping around him, pulling him close to a solid chest. Wayne coughs out the salty water he barely had the chance to inhale.

"I'm sorry! Are you alright?" Steve's face is right in front of him, looking distressed. Up lose he looks less human, the hue of his skin all wrong, the scales shimmering in the dim light.

"Fucking kill me already!" Wayne trashes in his hold, his calm demeanor finally breaking. "Ya like playing with your food so much?!"

And finally, the mer breaks the facade, his eyes turning stormy for once and teeth baring in anger.

"You think I would eat you?! Like some low level barbarian?! I brought your kid back so he wouldn't get eaten and you think I would dig into an old man instead?!"

Wayne isn't so sure it's a ploy anymore.

"Just…" the mer huffs, angry and resigned. "Go back to your kid." He propels them back to the pier, rearranging his grip to help Wayne up on the deck instead of just holding him up.

As the anger on mer's—Steve's—pretty face turns to disappointment and hurt, Wayne decides to do something stupid.

"Wait." He turns his head with his hand, feels the contradicting textures of scales and hair under his palm, and leans in.

Steve doesn't startle when he licks his lips this time, but parts them, hesitantly but trusting, once again mirroring Wayne. Who now kisses him properly, not like he's expecting to be swallowed up at any second.

Except for the teeth, his mouth feels like any other humans, and as long as he doesn't press on the sharp canines, they don't seem to be a problem. He moves and explores with his tongue and Steve quickly gets the hang of it, kissing him back. His hands tighten on Wayne's waist too, something he hasn't had in a while. It's really been too long for him if he's enjoying making out with a merman.

For someone without kissing experience, Steve is very nice to have under his palms. Alas, he has to push him away when he starts getting lightheaded.

"I need to breathe, boy," he says, gasping for air. "Not all of us have swimmer lungs." Humans don't have swimmer lungs, he reminds himself.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I kind of forgot." Steve's face goes red with embarrassment, but his eyes are blown wide, licking Wayne's ego.

"I'm sure you did," he chuckles, thumb stroking his collarbone, the side of his neck. "Bet you could go forever, huh?"

Steve bites his lip, his sharp teeth not so scary now that he knows how they feel under his tongue.

"Hmm, probably," he admits coyly, his eyes falling half shut, gaze zeroing back on Wayne's lips.

He indulges the mer with lingering, wet kisses that make him writhe against his body. Suddenly, he feels curious about mers mating rituals, and how different they bodies might be.

But he doesn't get to find out as Steve startles away from him, looking behind.

"A boat is coming," he says, and when Wayne follows his gaze, he recognizes the shape of a police boat turned their way. Hopper, coming to check in on him. Sure to chew him out for not radioing in that he's found Eddie.

Before he can react, Steve is putting him up on the pier and then ducking down so only his eyes peek out from under the water. Ready to flee, yet waiting.

"Thank you for saving my boy," he says first, pulling his legs up on the damp boards. "My name is Wayne," he finally admits, sure giving out his name will be a lesser of reckless things he's done tonight.

Steve swims up so his wide smile can be seen.

"Can I see you again, Wayne?" he asks.

He should say no.

"If you're ready for a nephew, come anytime."

The confused look he gets makes him chuckle, but the boat is getting closer, so he leans down for one last kiss which Steve eagerly leans up to catch.

"I'll explain next time."

Then Steve is gone, Wayne is left wet, shivering and confused, and has maybe ten minutes to get himself together before facing the chief of police.

@wheneverfeasible @blasvemous

[bluephoenixgirl]

You Love Me?

Jason Todd x Vigilante!Reader

Warnings: Adult Language, Dark Themes, Mention of Death, Reader get’s Shot, Weapons, Violence, Angst, Fluff, and Possibly Grammar Errors. (Sorry if I forgot any!)

Summary: After Y/N literally takes a bullet for Jason she finds out a big secret he’s been keeping from her thanks to Dick.

Word Count: 1,583

Author’s Note: This is actually my first story of 2025😬! Last month I just didn’t have any motivation to write. Also sorry if this is sloppy and sorry for postponing the release date! I’ve been having pain in my back and neck! Anyways, hope you all enjoy this short story!

Y/N was in her vigilante suit on a mission with Jason. Y/N is very close with Jason so most of the missions she goes on, he’s always right there by her side. Y/N’s vigilante name is Shadow. She picked that name since the suit she wears makes her look like a shadow. Her suit is all dark gray and the mask she wears covers her whole face.

Y/N’s father was a police officer and he got killed in the line of duty by Scarecrow during one of his tirades. That event is what motivated her to become a vigilante. She never wants a kid to go through with that she went through. At first she was just doing it to protect her mother and little sister but as time went on she wanted to protect her whole city. She was seventeen when she started fighting crime and has now been doing it for three years now. She recently became a part of the Bat team.

Her and Jason were at the docks fighting some gang members. There was three of them so from time to time Y/N or Jason would be fighting two people at the same time. Y/N finally took the guy she was fighting down. She was finally able to catch her breath. Jason was still fighting his guy.

Y/N’s eyes went wide when she noticed the third guy pull out a gun and aim it at Jason’s back. “Shit!” Y/N hissed with worry. Right when the guy pulled the trigger. Y/N jumped in front of Jason. Y/N felt the bullet go through her side.

When Y/N screamed out in pain everyone stopped. Jason’s eyes went wide under his red helmet when he turned around and saw Y/N laying down on the cold ground. “Fuck!” Jason said with panic in his voice as he kneeled down next to Y/N.

“Let’s go boys!” The guy who pulled the trigger said to other two guys. Jason didn’t care that the gang members were getting away. All he cared about was Y/N.

Before Jason could ask where the bullet hit her he saw the blood coming out from her left side. “J-j-Jason” Y/N stuttered in pain. “Shh don’t speak.” Jason told her taking off his jacket and putting it down on her wound to ease the bleeding. Jason used the device in his helmet to call Bruce.

“Jason. What’s going on?” He heard Bruce said. Bruce already knew something was wrong since that’s the only time Jason ever calls him. “Its Y/N. She got shot.” Jason told him. “Shit!” He heard Bruce hiss out. “Where did the bullet get her?” Bruce asked him. “Her left side.” Jason answered. “I’m tracking your location now. I’ll be there as fast as I can.” He heard Bruce tell him. “Just keep her stable.” Bruce told him in a stern tone and ended the call.

Jason decided to take her mask off since he can hear her struggling to catch her breath. His heart ached seeing the painful look in her eyes. He pressed both hands down onto his jacket. “Just stay with me Y/N. Help is on the way.” Jason told her. Y/N gave him a nod which made her groan out in pain. “Don’t move. Just keep your eyes open.” Jason told her with worry in his voice.

He was trying everything he can do to stay calm. Y/N used all of the strength and energy she has to keep her eyes open. She felt like she was paralyzed everywhere but where her wound is.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When Bruce got there him and Jason carefully helped Y/N into the Batmobile. Jason followed the Batmobile to the Batcave on his motorcycle. When they got to the Batcave Bruce and Alfred immediately took Y/N to the medical room. Alfred has patched up everyone so he knew exactly what he was doing. He’s taken bullets out of Bruce many times.

Jason was in the main room with Dick and Barbara. Jason couldn’t stop pacing back and forth. “Jason, you need to sit down. You pacing like that isn’t helping your nerves.” Barbara told him. “What if she doesn’t make it!” Jason said as he stopped pacing so he was looking straight at Barbara and Dick. “Jason, she’s going to make it.” Dick told him. “She’s in good hands, Jason.” Barbara said adding on to what Dick was saying.

“If I was fucking paying attention this wouldn’t of happened!” Jason said with a mixture of frustration and anger in his tone. “Woah, Jason!” Dick started. “There is no way in hell that this is your fault.” Duck told him in a stern tone. “Bullshit!” Jason hissed. “She took that bullet for me!” Jason said as his anger grew.

Bruce walked into the room. He was still in his Batman suit he just didn’t have his mask on. “How is Y/N?” Jason asked with worry as he quickly walked up to Bruce. “She’s going to be okay.” Bruce answered which made everyone in the room feel relief. “So relieved to hear you say that.” Barbara said with nothing but relief in her voice.

Y/N is Barbara’s best friend and Barbara doesn’t know what she would do without her.

“Luckily the bullet didn’t go through her.” Bruce told them. “Alfred got the bullet out of her side and is stitching her up.” Bruce added.

“Can I see her?” Jason asked with a pleading look in his blue eyes. Bruce answered his question with a nod. “Follow me.” Bruce told him. Jason followed Bruce back into the medical room.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After Y/N woke up Bruce had Alfred take her upstairs to Wayne Manor. Since she needs a lot of rest for some weeks he’s letting her stay in one of the guest rooms.

A couple of days have passed and Y/N was still bedridden. Dick and Barbara just showed up to visit Y/N and see how she was doing. When they walked into the room they did notice that Y/N was starting to get some color back into her face. “How are you feeling?” Barbara asked her standing by the bedside with Dick right next to her. “A little better than yesterday.” Y/N answered.

“If I didn’t have those pain killers I would be so fucked.” Y/N added which made Barbara and Dick let out a little laugh. “Its good to know that your sense of humor is still in tact.” Dick told her. “Don’t worry. They didn’t shoot out my sense of humor.” Y/N told him with a small smile.

“I’m surprised Jason isn’t here.” Barbara said. Jason has been by Y/N’s side almost every hour of the day. It would take Y/N forever to get him to leave so he could get some rest of his own. “You guys actually just missed him.” Y/N told them. “We did?” Dick said with one of his eyebrows raised. “I made the dumb mistake of telling him I was craving truffles from that fancy chocolate shop.” Y/N said with a sigh. “But that shop is across town.” Barbara said. “That’s what I told him but he didn’t care.” Y/N told her. “Damn, he’s crazy.” Barbra said as she shook her head. Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“Hey cut the man some slack. A guy does anything when he’s in love.” Dick said which made Y/N freeze. Barbara looked over at Dick with wide eyes. “What?” Dick asked in confusion. “You just told Y/N that Jason is in love with her.” Barbara told him which made his heart sink. “Oh, um, yeah my bad.” Dick said with a nervous sigh. “He’s in love with me?” Y/N asked Dick in a surprised tone in her voice. “Yeah he um told me a few months back.” Dick answered knowing he can’t take back what he said. “Oh my gosh.” Y/N said as she felt nothing but shock.

“Jason is so going to kill you.” Barbara told him. “Yeah yeah I fucking know!” Dick hissed as he ran one of his hands through his raven colored hair.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After Barbara and Dick left Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about what she just found out. Jason doesn’t just love her no, he’s in love with her. Y/N snapped out of her racing thoughts when Jason walked in holding a white paper bag.

“I’m back.” Jason said walking over to her bedside. “Your truffles.” Jason said handing her the white bag. “Oh um thanks.” Y/N said taking the paper bag.

Jason could immediately sense that something was wrong. “Everything alright?” Jason asked with concern in his voice. Y/N set the bag down on the table next to the bed.

“Are you in love with me?” Y/N asked taking Jason by surprise. “Who um told you that?” Jason asked her. “Dick might’ve let it slip out.” Y/N told him fiddling with her fingers. “That stupid fuck!” Jason snapped as he a ran a hand down his face.

Y/N grabbed one of his hands before he could get too worked up. “Jason.” Y/N said in a soft voice as she looked up at him. “Yes, I’m in love with you.” Jason confessed to her. Y/N lips turned up into a smile. She pulled him down and connected her lips with his’s. Jason immediately kissed back since he’s been waiting for this moment for a very long time.

They continued to kiss till they needed to pull away to catch their breath.

“I’m in love with you, too.” Y/N told him with a big smile on her face.

[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: You and JJ talk about what happened

We didn't know it at the time, but today would change everything. Hurricane Agatha swept over the island, leaving destruction in her path, although if you look at Figure 8, it seems like just a small storm hit. The Cut looks rough to say the absolute least. I was helping my parents clean out the backyard, knowing they were already hiring people to fix the electricity that went out. All I really wanted to do was hang out with the Pogues, but I knew that wouldn't happen until later.

Sarah had come over to the house and told me about the kegger that was happening later in the night. As soon as I was done helping in the backyard, I headed to Heyward's to help. "Those dumbass friends took Pope with them," Heyward told me as he was cleaning up around the dock. "I'm gonna ground his ass for life," I walk over and start helping him clean up. If Pope had left, Heyward was trying to clean everything by himself. "I'll make sure to tell him that next time I see him," I tell him which causes him to chuckle.

"Do you think your parents will trade you for Pope?" he jokes. I let out a laugh and shake my head at him, he already knows the answer. Can't have anything wrong with our picture-perfect family, and Pope was a Pogue at the end of the day. "When I turn 18, I'm coming and living with you." Heyward pats my shoulder before pulling me into a side hug. He presses a small kiss on the top of my head before walking back to the piles of debris he was working on.

We spent the rest of the day cleaning, only taking a break to eat some food he made the day before. I got a text from Sarah reminding me about the party. "Hey, there's a small bonfire happening later and I was planning on going," I set the broom down and look over at Heyward, "I can come back tomorrow and help though!"

Heyward looks at me and shakes his head, "Don't worry about it sweetie, you helped so much already." He walks over to me and takes the rag off my shoulder. "Can't have you going anywhere with that," he chuckles at me before shooing me out of the shop. I walk back to Figure 8 and quickly get changed out of my dirty clothes. I quickly throw on a mini dress. Sarah was wearing a dress and she requested I did too. I threw on my high tops and headed down to the beach.

It didn't take long to find Sarah, she was with Topper. I hung out with them for a bit before I looked and saw JJ, John B, and Kie handing out drinks to Tourons. I made my way over to them and nudged Kie's shoulder, "Having fun?" I ask her before looking over at the two boys, "See anybody worth talking to?" I heard John B scoff before going back to filling up red solo cups. "I'll take that as a no."

I stay with them for a while before walking around. It was getting dark now and I was swaying to the music. "Hey, loser!" I heard the distinct voice of JJ say, I looked around and saw he was definitely talking to me. I roll my eyes at him before flipping him off. "You want this?" He holds out a red solo cup to me and I shake my head no.

"Why don't you just drink it?" I ask as if it was the most obvious answer. He walks over to me and rests his arm around my shoulders, "Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to come talk to you?" I feel the warmth rise to my face and smile at him. "You know you don't have to have an excuse to talk to me."

"I know, but all your Kooky friends are here," he whispers into my ear. I turn to face him and put my arms around his neck, forcing him to dance with me. "I don't care if they know you're my friend J." I hear his breathing hitch for just a second when I put my arms around him. He places one hand on my waist, still holding the cup in his other hand.

"Listen, as much as I hate the Kooks, I don't want to make you a social pariah because you're hanging out with a Pogue" he looks deep into my eyes. He was trying to read me, but he knew what I thought about it.

"JJ," I stand on my tiptoes to get closer to his face and I brush my lips against his ear, "I don't care what they think." I take his face in my hands and press a small kiss on his lips. I may have been a little drunk, but sober me wanted to do this for years. I pulled away and looked into his eyes before he leaned down and kissed me back. He placed his empty hand on the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. It felt like it was just the two of us on that beach for a moment.

We were quickly pulled back to reality when someone bumped into us. I feel an arm holding me so I don't fall and I suddenly realize that someone is looking at us: Topper. JJ looks over and sees Topper standing with Sarah, getting ready to leave. JJ sees the interaction Topper and I are having, and JJ being JJ, he gets in the middle of it. He walks over, cup in hand, and tries to offer it to Sarah. Next thing I know, the cup goes flying and a fight breaks out between Topper and John B.

JJ ends up pulling a gun on Topper, leaving me wondering where the hell he got that from. John B fell face down into the water, Kie and I rushing over to him as JJ let off some shots. We got John B back to the Chateau and I headed home, all of us deciding not to talk about what happened.

The next morning, I wake up and head to the Chateau. Everybody is there talking about Sheriff Peterkin. I stand next to Pope and just listen to what's being said, knowing I'll have to ask about it later. Right now, I need to talk with JJ. I walk over to the dock, thinking about what to say to him. It doesn't take long before I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around and see JJ looking at me. My heart beats just a little faster, remembering our kiss from last night. He walks over to me and sits along the ledge.

"Do you think we would ever work? Like if you weren't Kook royalty and I wasn't, well me?" JJ scratches his forehead before looking over at me, anticipating an answer. I look at him and I can't help but study his face. "Just after last night, I can't pretend that what happened, didn't happen."

JJ and I have always had a flirty friendship. We always stole hushed glances when the other wasn't looking. We knew everything there was to know about the other person. We knew what each other was thinking without saying it. We would always do the same thing without realizing it. We were just two people hopelessly in love, but staying quiet about it for the sake of our friendship; until now. "JJ, I can't pretend either." I walk over to him and he jumps down off the ledge, now standing directly in front of me. He places the palm of his hand against my face and I lean into it.

"So, what does this mean?" JJ asks looking down at me with a smile on his face. I shrug my shoulders at him, "I don't know. All I know is I can't keep pretending I don't have these feelings for you." I take his hand in mine and intertwine our fingers.

"Good, 'cause I've wanted to do this for a long damn time," JJ tells me before placing his hands on my face and pulling me into him. He places a kiss on my lips and entangles his hands in my hair. I pull him closer to me and deepen the kiss. We finally break apart and I can see his heavy breathing matching mine. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his chest. He plays with my hair before we hear someone behind us clear their throat. I turn around and see John B staring at us with wide eyes.

"Uhh-" John B turns away and starts to walk away before glancing back at us, "About time." I look at him and he gives us a small smile before walking back to the house. I glance up at JJ and chuckle.

So it turns out, everybody was betting when we would get together: Pope won.

[writingoddess1125]

Bless you for your perfect Mihawk writing, I am dying <3 if you're still taking requests, may I please request some angst with lots of fluff? Mihawk gets word that his wife was badly injured on a mission, she almost dies, but she's strong so she survives with a deep battle wound? Soft Mihawk gives me life ;-;

I gotcha My Dear!

⚠️ Warning: ⚠️ Mention of Death, Disfigurement

Angst and some fluff

My Heart Lies with You

Ah the Dracule Couple- The best power couple of the ages by most people's standards. Mihawk who was the best swordsmen and you his wife the best stealth killers there was, a couple to be taken incredibly seriously. While you were no Warlord you were the wife of one so got the same privileges as your Husband. Paired with your skill it was a bonus for the world goverment to have you on their side.

It had been a normal mission like all the rest, you two rarely got mission together after getting caught being a little too friendly with each other on a assassination mission. So you went off 4 days ago to do a intel and assassination while Mihawk was sent to cause havoc and destroy a pirate base.

Mihawk was currently mid battle, ripping apart the base with his sword and fighting the worthless goons with ease. He heard the transponder snail go off in his ear and he sighed as he answered.

"I'm a little busy here Garp-" He says in a nonchalant way, cutting down several more people as the base behind him exploded.

"Hawkeye, you need to get here as quickly as possible-" Garp said I'm a rather sharp tone that wasn't fitting of the Vice- Admiral.

Mihawk felt a peg of annoyance go through his body at hearing such a tone from the man- Something was wrong very wrong..

"Fine.. I'll be there with the tide" Mihawk said disconnecting the call, sighing as he decided to stop having fun and get this over with so he could meet with the Garp.

The following morning Garp sat at his desk, nervously tapping his finger on the desk knowing this was not going to be pleasant. He heard the heavy footsteps of the Warlords and pulled out the whiskey, knowing it would be needed. Mihawk walked in, Stepping forward with a deep frown as he watched Garp pour the whiskey.

"You called me here Garp?" Mihawk asked with his normal stoic tone, The Vice-Admiral nodded and held out the whiskey to Mihawk who took it and took a hefty sip.

"Hawkeye- (Y/N) is MIA, there was a surprisingly large battle during her stealth mission and after she informed us she was injured transmission cut and we lost her" Garp said evenly, his eyes trained on Mihawk whose whole body seemed to lock up. The Warlord setting down the glass of whiskey quickly as his mind focused on one thing- his wife.

"Where was her mission?" He demanded, His breathing seeming shallow and unsheathed rage behind his eyes as Garp drank his glass of whiskey.

"Just off Summer Island, a boat has already been prepared to take you within the next hour" Garp said calmly, however Mihawk was already out the door at hearing this. His heart beating in his ears as he heard of this- His wife MIA after being injured.. scared him? He wasn't used to feeling scared like this- You were so skilled and careful, a perfect stealth killer as well as a Pirate he saw equal to himself.

As promised, within the hour Mihawk was sailing to Summer Island. The Marines with him scared as he looked like a pacing tiger, Walking up and down the main docks as his eyes locked onto the direction of his destination. By nightfall they had arrived, seeing a search party was already there. Never having been so greatful that Garp had let their mission be semi close to each other (usually a 2 day boat ride to one another max).

Mihawk looked around at the clear battle that had taken place on the island, anger bubbling in his chest as his mind racing with all the possibilities. He saw the search party still moving through the clearing. They wouldn't find her unless she wanted to be found- she was too good.

Stepping forward he cupped his hand over his lips and gave out two loud whistles sounding like a birds call, he held up a hand to the research party to stop which they did. The forest falling silent for a few moments, Mihawk closing his eyes to focus... after a moment or two a weakened call returned. Mihawk feet moving faster then his brain as he followed the bird call.

The search party backed away as Mihawk trudged forward repeating the bird call again following its echoed call.

Finally he made it to a large pile of fallen trees still scorched from what seemed to he a fire. Without care he began to throw off the glowing logs like they weighed nothing, finally seeing your arm wriggling under a large log he tossed it with all of his strength and fell to his knees quickly.

"I got you My Heart.. I got you" He said softly, his arm sliding under you and he felt the dampness from blood as he slowly lifted you into his arms. You managed to open an eye to see your husband, the taste of ash and dirt on your lips as you tried to give him a soft smile.

"D-Dont look so sa.." You croaked out, but the pain keep you from finishing your words. Mihawk pulling you closer to him and holding your face in his hand, his thumb pushing the dried blood and dirt from your face. Panic filling his features and- he froze. Fear filling his whole body that practically immobilized him-

"Medics Now!" Mihawk ordered loudly, a rush of Marine medics rushing forward to exact you and take you to the boat for attention. The Warlord finally seeing the large open wound on your chest which made his stomach churn- it went from your naval up to the left of your body shredding your skin across your left breast and past your shoulder. If it hadn't been for the grace of whatever Gods were out there or the dirt packed into the wound you would have died for sure.

Mihawk felt his body go cold- watching as the Marines take his wife. At first frozen in his spot before he quickly followed behind quickly, he was silent as they loaded you onto the boat. The medics quick to take you to the infirmary of the ship to provide emergency treatment- Mihawk standing in your room as he watched with unwaving eyes as they gave you oxygen and more to keep you breathing.

As fast as the boat could move it landed on a near by Marine Base to get you into its established hospital. The nurses and medical staff taking you as top priority as they got you into a proper room, Garp meeting Mihawk there as he saw them loading you into a room.

Once several machines were placed on you the loud sirens of the heart monitor sounded which shattered Mihawk- Hearing your heart jump in shock of whatever they were doing before it suddently stopped and flattened. He shoved past the doctors at this and grabbed your hand feeling it turn cold before a doctor could yank him off.

"Code Blue Code Blue we have lost the heart beat" a nurse announced, Another young nurse pushing Mihawk out of the room fully as they began emergency treatment for you. Mihawk had tried to resist at first ready to mow down the nurses but Garp pulled him back into the hallway before he could.

"They have to keep you out to give her the best treatment Hawkeye-" He tried to reason with the Warlord who looked ready to rip Garp apart, but he nodded silently as the older man lead him to a bench to sit down. Hours passed and Mihawk heard nothing... his nerves shot as he sat there trying to mentally figure out what to do- You could take die.. he would be lost if you did.. he mentally couldn't not comprehend the idea.. His face found his hands as he sat there letting his own imagination get the absolute worse of him.

"Mr. Dracule sir?.." The old doctor said softly, pulling the man from his hands as he looked up at the man. His eyes red from either stress or crying- no one was going to ask which, Mihawk stood up fully staring at the doctor.

"So we have your wife stable and alive, she will be making a recovery. While we are unsure of the damage done from the blood loss I can say she is very fortunate" Mihawk gave a sigh in relief, like he could finally take a breath for the first time.

"However there was some... damage due to the injuries" The doctor spoke gently, Mihawks relief was short lived as the doctor went into detail over your injuries. It seemed whatever had caused your injury had shredded the left side of your chest- due to the extent of the injuries they had to give a mastectomy to your left breast as well as remove lots of skin from around the whole wound that could have caused infections heaving what was going to be one hell of a scar.

His heart sank to his stomach at hearing this, but nodded in understanding. Greatful you were just alive. The doctor lead him inside still trying to brace him to see you.

When he saw you- he crumbled.. his heart shattered into tiny peices as he saw you. You were swollen and pale, the machine beeping loudly and monitoring every rise and fall of your chest which was shallow. He shuffled over to the little plastic seat next to your bed and sat there, he looked lost. Like the idea of you like this had never crossed his mind and he couldn't handle it now- he stared at the doctor, pity in the older man's eyes as he saw the devastated Warlord.

"How long will she be like this?.." Mihawk finally said. The doctor swallowing thickly and shook his head.

"Now that is something I can't tell you..." He said, before leaving the room to let Mihawk be with you. The Warlord reaching forward and touching your face softly, his hands shaking as he stared at the cuts and bruises on your face. Pulling away finally as he sat by your side, caressing your free hand carefully.

Hours turned to days.. days turned to weeks and after a month Mihawk had still not left your side, others even trying to convince the man to at least get fresh air but he refused. Unmoving and too stubborn to leave you alone as you recovered in your coma. Till one day-

You opened your eyes, you felt truly awful- your eyes burning at the harsh light. You blinked several times as your eyes adjusted and saw you were in a hospital, the beeping of machines around you finally took notice of them- flowers. So many flowers of every color and stage of wilting were scattered in the room like someone had set them in whatever space was available. A heavy feeling on your chest and hand caught your attention. Lifting your head slightly you could feel heavy gauze around your chest that made it hard to breath- however you assumed the pain medicine thay was for sure in your IV was keeping you from feeling whatever was happening there. However your gaze went to your side to the pressure on your hand, your gaze softening at the sight.

There was you husband, he looked as bad as you felt. His hair was a mess on his head and clearly hadnt been washed in some time, a deep stubble was blending in with his natural facial hair making him look like he was growing a full rugged beard instead of his usual clean look and even though he was passed out with his face pressed into your hand like a puppy waiting for its owner the insane bags under his closed eyes clued you in that he had been exhausted in waiting for you.

Carefully you reach around with your free hand and touch his hair, despite it being a greasy mess you stroke his hair softly. After a few moments of messing with his hair Mihawk head shoots up, his bright yellow eyes as wide as saucers as he stared at you.

"(Y/N).." He breathed out and his cupped your cheek quickly, you can see his eyes watering at seeing you awake. He stood up to place a kiss on your forehead, feeling a tear fall onto your cheek realizing it was from your husband. He pressed the call nurse button quickly.

"They need to check you first okay?..." Mihawk said, almost like he was convincing himself just as much as you. Soon a flood of nurses came in, giving every checkup and look around possible. If you weren't sure before that your situation had been bad then you knew by the end.

It had been a few days since you woke up from the hospital. To say it had been a roller coaster was a understatement, your husband had taken control of your care and recovery almost possessivly. Then his colleges and friends of the past visited the both of you- Even catching who had been assisting in bringing in flowers for you.

From Vice Admiral Garp who brought in a large strawberry cake and some adorable white flowers, Zoro with lovely blue hydrangeas, Perona bring in every type of rose imaginable, Shanks with whatever he could find and even Buggy who would shyly bring sunflowers and leave before getting the ire of Mihawk if the clown tried any stupid jokes.

It took Shanks and Zoro to convince Mihawk to finally go shower and change clothes agreeing to watch over you while he did so. You never did tell him he smelt like ripe ass sitting next to you.

Upon returning in fresh clothes that Perona had brought back you smiled.

"There is my handsome husband" You said with a grin, he smirked at this and took his seat next to you. Shanks and Zoro also glad to see at least most of Mihawk back to his former self- you reaches forward and touched the full beard that graced his features and giggled.

"I never knew you could grow a beard like this" You chimed, he rolled his eyes at your words and gently took your hand from his beard and held it instead.

"Don't get uses to it- once back home I'm shaving" You see Shanks and Zoro smirk at this, Clearly finding it amusing.

You look at the two of them and smile.

"Guys, could you get us something to eat?.. and some tea?" You ask sweetly, Zoro looked confused over this clearly about to question why not call the nurses button bit Shanks got it and patted Zoro shoulder. "Come with me" He said calmly as he lead the green haired man out the room and closing the door behind them. There was a few moments of silence, your hand finding its way to your own gauzed up chest.

"They told you?... right?" You asked softly, wanting to know of he knew about the amputation and the heavy scars on your body. He nodded calmly. You winced at this, feeling... ashamed at this and uncomforble, Giving a forced chuckle-

"Well... no more bikini seasons for me.." You try to make light, even if your bottom lip quivered. Touching that spot on your chest again. Mihawks eyes hardened at this and he gently pulled your hand from your chest and held it tightly. He knew what you were insinuating and it broke his heart all over again.

"(Y/N).. never say that- You are beautiful in every way imaginable. No matter what has been added or taken away... you're beautiful cause.. just cause your here with me" He admitted, staring at you. You felt your eyes grow warm with fresh tears at such thoughtful words.

"Honey.." You whisper softly, giving his hand a gentle tug to come closer to you which he obediently did and kissed you on the lips which you savored. Tears running down your cheeks at his sweet words-

"I love you Mihawk" You whisper softly again his lips, he pulled back ever so slightly and smiled.

"I love you too My Heart"

[bendableperformer]

Ranking Popee The Performer Ships!!

(Also a “what your favorite ship says about you”)

Please don’t kill me.

Popee x Kedamono: 1/10

If you ship this, you’re either a child who doesn’t know better or a maniac who will only settle for the most toxic, acidic sludge of yaoi.

Firstly, there’s an age gap between 7-10 years. Secondly, Popee’s a minor and any sort of sexualization of him makes me deeply uncomfortable so all ships involving him get docked points. Thirdly, there’s a beastiality argument floating around but that doesn’t count because Kedamono is definitely sentient so…. No. My answer is still no. Fuck you.

You get a 1/10 because it is a perfect setup for some toxic yaoi it’s just the wrong characters and the wrong context.

Also, if you want the concept of two guys killing each other over and over again in the desert forever and they have this crazy forbidden fucked up toxic yaoi relationship, AND they’re both legal adults? Have I got the fandom for you. (It’s TF2)

…as for shipping them in chinchirukin only? *dissapointed sigh* fine. But I’m fucking watching you.

Popee x Eepop: 3/10

You wanted a “cleaner” Popeemono.

It’s quite literally the same dynamic as Popeemono but it’s straight and also they’re the same age and both humans. So. That’s cool I guess.

I really don’t care though. Like I said, any sexualization of Popee makes me deeply uncomfortable.

“What if it’s only romantic?” you ask. To that I say: Yeah right. As if you’re only shipping them so they can be in a stable, loving and healthy relationship. I know you want yandere Popee so bad. I know you want that fucked up boy.

Also this ship does tend to be depicted in a very binary-gendered way. Almost all art depicting Popee and Eepop force the two of them further into their gender roles (ex: Eepop has boobs and eyelashes and a skirt or something) even though they canonically look FUCKING IDENTICAL.

Kedamono x Pink bitch Wolf: 4/10

God I do not care about these fuckass genderbends. Same as the above ship.

A little better because we love a girlboss but man. I just do not care. Kedamono deserves better I think.

Popee x Pink bitch Wolf: 0/10

You want to see this twink get ravaged so bad. WELL GUESS WHAT?? He may be physically ALMOST 18 but MENTALLY. HE IS A CHILD. HE IS NOT A TWINK HE IS AN ANDROGYNOUS CHILD PLEASE LEAVE HIM ALONEEEEEEE.

Kedamono x Eepop: 0/10

You want the weird fucked up age gap and human/furry relationship but you don’t want the toxic yaoi. You pathetic wimp. At least commit if you’re gonna be a degenerate.

Papi x Alien: 7/10

The fandom was so desperate to pair characters off that I’m sure this started as a joke. But honestly?

It’s really fucking funny to me. Especially if it’s one sided. Papi is absolutely enamored with this random fuckass Alien and said Alien does not give two shits about him. It’s just so silly.

Papi x Kedamono: 4/10

….Honest to god I don’t hate this one. They really seem to get along sometimes. They’re both legal adults. In the context of my headcannon backstory it becomes weird, but in cannon material? I dunno. I kind of like it. It’s a little silly.

Especially when you realize what Popee’s reaction would be. That boy is gonna be Third Wheeling FOREVER.

Papi x Popee: 0/10

If you ship this please get therapy.

Popee x Marifa: 0/10

You really like fucked up sibling incest, don’t you? You fucking loser. Go touch grass

Kedamono x UFO girls: 10/10

Ideal PTP ship. You KNOW Kedamono wants this. I think Kedamono needs some forehead kisses from these lovely ladies.

Kedamono x Alien: 9/10

*Cough* *wheeze* I don’t even know what to say here…. Um…. Yeah.

Papi x OC/Self Insert: 9/10

No comment.

Popee x OC/Self Insert: 8/10

*takes drag of cigarette.*

I was like you once…..

Kedamono x OC/Self Insert: 9/10

Yeah. I get it. I understand. You just want good things for this dog.

….Honestly this fandom is just….. Not good for shipping.

(Unlike TF2 lol)