#anyway I know I keep saying it but things have been a bit difficult lately for me but I promise this blog is not abandoned!

[turtleblogatlast]

*Leo gives a dubious look*

[Remember all those months ago when I promised I was doing a comic? Well. I am still doing it, just taking a bit longer than expected haha…Will absolutely get it done within the month though, mark my words!]

[catcze]

not particularly a request if u don't want it to be but as a fellow wriothesley enjoyer I wanted to share this idea

fontaine is based off of france right? so the thought of wrio being able to speak french and absolutely using that to his advantage to be a flirt has been driving me insane. he would be INSUFFERABLE (especially if his s/o isn't fluent) and I'd be loving every second of it

(also love your works <3 it's the main fuel that's been making me so horrifically down bad for him)

OH ?!!? MY GOD ?!?! HEHAKJDJ FUCK I HAVE TO WRITE THIS I CANT NOT !! It's a little short and a little sweet, but i hope you like it!

(Translations listed at the end! I used google translate, so if there's any mistakes, please feel free to correct me!!)

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

Wriothesley has started to say things to you on the regular— but for the life of you, you can't understand. It starts first on a slow day. You're lounging in his office, reading a random book you've plucked from his shelves. He's just looking through some papers, doing nothing too important.

Then, Wriothesley glances up from his papers, lets his eyes fall on you. "Tu me rends si heureux."

And you're furrowing your brow in confusion, staring at him. It's a phrase form his mother tongue, that much you know. But you're not sure what it actually means. The way his smile is a bit too mischievous, you don't think that he intends for you to understand, anyway.

"I'm... sorry?" You ask. What else can you say? You're pretty sure from his insufferably smug expression that he's not going to tell you what it means anytime soon. At the very least, you're pretty sure he's not shit talking you to your face.

Your eyes narrow.

Probably.

He can see the question on the tip of your tongue, the suspicious glance you cast his way. Wriothesley just chuckles and goes back to the papers on his desk.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart."

The next time, he does it as you're having dinner across from each other in the cafeteria. Your meal is halfway done, having been practically shoveled into your mouth. It probably paints an unflattering picture, but you're too hungry to really care. Resting on the table, he's stubbornly gripping your hand in his own, fingers intertwined. Even though it made eating much more difficult, Wriothesley would scowl and reach back for your hand whenever you tried to take it away, so you just considered it a lost cause.

Lost in filling your stomach, you're almost don't hear what he says.

"Je ne peux pas imaginer le reste de ma vie sans toi." Wriothesley mumbles, thumb stroking the back of your hand tenderly.

You narrow your eyes again, a silent question.

Wriothesley just smiles secretively and raises a hand to his mouth, miming zipping up his lips and locking it with a key, then tossing it away. He winks at you, and you roll your eyes. No answers today, apparently.

"Are you ever going to tell me what it is you've been saying?" you ask once you've swallowed your food.

"Mm. Maybe one day. If I feel like it." And he's grinning again— the cheeky one that he wears whenever he one-ups you, that showcases his dimples and his teeth. You kinda want to punch him, but it also makes you remember how handsome he is when he smiles.

"Fine," you grumble, sighing. You busy yourself once more with your food. "Keep your fucking secrets. See if I care." You do. A lot, actually. You're very curious now.

Wriotheley just smiles and lets you eat.

But he slips up, one evening. To be fair, it's late at night after a hard day's work. Both of you are exhausted— a tangled mass of limbs and sheets on your bed, both of you halfway asleep already.

Your head is cushioned on his chest, nose pressed against his collarbone, and his arms wrapped around you. Wriothesley's nose is pressed into the crown of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair. His breaths are deep and slow, and you can tell without even looking that his eyes are fighting to stay awake. You're no better, though.

Just before you nod off though, you can feel the brush of his lips against your hair. "Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement," he says quietly, lips brushing the strands in affection. If you had just been the slightest bit more asleep, you might not have even heard it.

But while you may not be fluent in his language, may know little else aside from the most basic of phrases, you recognize that one. It's hard not to, when it's arguably one of the most popular phrases from his mother tongue. Je t'aime. I love you.

Something gooey finds its way into your chest, and the blood rushes through your body as you're overcome by the sheer sweetness of the man you're laying on. Slowly, you crane your neck up to face him, and can see the slight widening of his eyes, the quiet oh shit that runs through his head.

"Is that what you've been saying?" you ask, voice just as quiet as his. Wriothesley hesitates, arms tightening their hold on you.

"... generally, yes."

You smile gently, scooching up enough to press a kiss to his jaw, then to his lips, giggling when he leans down to make it easier for you. You bury your head into his neck then, resting your cheek against him. "I love you too, Wrio."

Translations:

Tu me rends si heureux. — You make me so happy. Je ne peux pas imaginer le reste de ma vie sans toi. — I can't imagine the rest of my life without you. Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement. — I love you. I love you so much

[harrywavycurly]

I’m dying to see Harry trying to help with wedding planning because god that just seems like it would be so overwhelming 😫

Hiii babes!! I hope you enjoy this! I agree it seems like it would be so overwhelming and he would do his best to help anyway he can!💖

-find all things for the Lonely series here✨

A/N: You’re worried that you won’t have centerpieces for your wedding but Harry is there to help fix it all, enjoy✨

You try your hardest to keep your facial expression polite so you don’t let your eyebrows rise too much or your eyes get too big and you make sure your smile doesn’t falter not even for a second as Malory, the lovely woman showing you some examples of centerpieces for the tables at your reception, places a giant floral arrangement that’s full of red roses that’s in a jeweled vase on the table in front of you. You want to give up, this is the fifth arrangement she’s shown you and you don’t know where she’s getting the inspiration from because you had told her what the theme or vibe of your wedding was a few weeks ago when you called to set this appointment up and she had assured you she understood but so far nothing was giving you that impression at all.

“Is your fiancé joining us?” Malory asks with a smile as she stands next to the table holding the hideous flower arrangement.

“Yes he-”

“Sorry I’m late sweetheart Gem needed my approval on her dress and it took ages longer than intended.” As if on queue Harry walks through the door of the little shop and you instantly feel like you could cry the moment his eyes lock with yours and his soothing voice fills your ears.

It’s moments like these that you’re thankful that Harry has known you for as long as he has because he knows what’s going on the moment he sees you and takes in your glassy eyes and the way you’re biting your bottom lip, so he briefly looks away from you so he can give Malory a warm smile as he walks over to her. “Hi I’m Harry the fiancé of this lovely woman over here and I’m just wondering if I could get a few moments with her? Haven’t seen her all day and I just-”

“Oh of course! Yes I’m Malory and I’ll just go get the next few arrangements ready.” She gives him a knowing look and a playful wink as she pats Harry on the arm before she turns and heads off towards the back leaving you and Harry alone in the front of the shop. The moment she is out of sight Harry is turning around and taking the few steps over to you so he’s standing in front of you wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest while his lips press a kiss to the top of your head.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asks as he gives you a nice squeeze as you let out a deep sigh and close your eyes and let yourself get engulfed in the comfort that is just being with Harry, he’s always been able to wrap you up in his arms and make you forget about the world around you and you need that in this moment more than anything.

“They’re all ugly.” You mumble with your eyes still closed as your arms snake around his middle pulling him closer to you. Harry begins to run his hands up and down your back as he places a kiss to the side of your head. “We get married in nine months and we aren’t going to have any centerpieces.” You explain as you try to fight back to urge to just let out a frustrated sob because you didn’t think picking out a centerpiece would be difficult but it’s proving to be just that.

Now Harry isn’t going to lie and say he’s been the best at helping plan this wedding, he has left a lot of the details to you but does give his honest opinions when you ask for them but lately he’s been able to tell that the few wedding related tasks left have been a bit more daunting and he’s adamant on not letting you have a breakdown over something like a seating chart or flower arrangements. So when you asked him to come help pick centerpieces he didn’t hesitate to say yes, he knows what the vision is for the wedding and the reception and he knows that with the help of Jane, the wedding planner the two of you hired once you realized planning a wedding on your own wasn’t something you were cut out for, it shouldn’t be an issue to get exactly what you’re looking for. But going off of the way you’re practically clinging to him and on the brink of full on crying in the middle of this flower shop he is clearly mistaken. Harry decides in that moment when he feels your grip on him tighten as he hears you let out a shaky breath that he is going to make sure you leave this shop with a smile on your face.

“We are going to have centerpieces love don’t worry.” His voice is soft and soothing in your ear as he begins to ever so gently rock you back and forth a bit in his arms. “Let’s have a look at the options she’s shown you so far yeah?” You open your eyes and look up at him so your chin is resting on his chest and Harry looks down at you and gives you a reassuring smile as he leans down and places a quick kiss to your lips.

You reluctantly let go of him as he loosens his hold on you so you can turn around in his arms. His hands move to your shoulders as he walks a half step behind you as you lead him over to row of tables that hold the examples of centerpieces Malory has given you so far. As he stands there Harry can’t help but raise an eyebrow as he looks at them, he doesn’t know why the lovely shop owner would show these to you after you gave her the inspiration for the wedding because these don’t fit the theme at all so he can understand why you feel defeated and upset.

“This can’t be right.” You just shrug at Harry’s words as you look at the arrangements again trying to maybe find one you don’t dislike too much. “You told her where we are getting married and everything?” He asks and you nod because yes you told Malory all the details of your wedding.

“Yes and I think she even talked to Jane as well.” You answer and Harry is officially dumbfounded but he doesn’t have time to ask anything else before Malory walks in with another centerpiece in her hands and this one is no where close to what you’re looking for with all the bright pink and white flowers sticking out of a clear vase with a big pink tule bow wrapped around it. Harry feels your shoulders slump under his hands and even though he can’t see your face he knows you well enough to know you’re putting on your best fake smile as you look the arrangement over.

“This one can be done is different heights as well and we can add candles around it or-”

“I’m sorry Malory but are you sure these are for our wedding?” Harry doesn’t want to be rude but he also doesn’t want to look at anymore centerpieces that aren’t anywhere near what you want and he knows you’re too polite to say anything so he will happily do it for you. Malory turns her attention away from the arrangement and faces Harry with a slight look of concern on her face so Harry does what he does best and turns on the charm flashing her a smile that shows off his dimples as his gently squeezes your shoulders.

“I only ask because while these are just lovely arrangements,” she smiles and you see a slight blush take over her cheeks and you almost feel bad because you know how overwhelming Harry’s smile and slow and soothing tone can be especially when you’re not prepared for it. “They aren’t really the right fit for our wedding.” He explains with a warm smile and Malory looks away from Harry’s intense stare so she can turn and grab her clipboard off the table next to the last arrangement she brought out.

“Let’s see the notes I have for your wedding are classical glamorous romance with reds and pinks but also the classic touches of white-”

“Sorry for interrupting but whose wedding is that for? Because that’s not ours.” Harry asks in a soft tone as he continues to soothingly rub your shoulders, he knows you’re on edge because you don’t like this sort of thing and he’s aware you view this as a form of confrontation and you would rather just look at arrangements that you hate than tell Malory you don’t think these are meant for your wedding.

“Oh god I’m so sorry these are for the Gibbs wedding.” You feel your whole body relax as Malory admits the mistake because you now know it’s not that she doesn’t understand your vision for the wedding it’s just that she had the completely wrong wedding in mind.

“Ah that explains it then because we are the Styles wedding.” Harry states as Malory gives you an apologetic smile as she reaches for one of your hands.

“You must’ve been freaking out oh my goodness I’m so sorry.” You let out a sigh of relief making Malory chuckle as she gives your hand a squeeze. “Again I’m so sorry about this but let me just go grab your sheet and show you some examples that actually fit your wedding theme okay?” You just nod as she gives your hand one last squeeze before letting it go and heading off to the back to grab your sheet and start setting up some examples of centerpieces you’ll actually like.

“How do you do that?” Harry raises an eyebrow at you as you turn around so you’re looking up at him with a look of almost disbelief on your face because you really don’t get how he manages to just swoop in a save the day all the time.

“Do what?”

“You come in here and I’m on the verge of a breakdown and not even five minutes later is all fixed.”

“I just don’t like it when you’re upset.” He answers as he places a hand on the side of your face while he other one rests on your hip. “So I try to fix it as quickly as I can so if that means I have to tell Malory that she has to start over with the arrangements then so be it.” He explains with a shrug because for Harry it comes without any hesitation to do whatever he has to in order to make you feel better. That’s just how he’s been since the day you met all those years ago so he has no plans on stopping and if anything now he’s just willing to do even more to stop your tears because you’re going to be his wife soon and the idea of you being upset makes his heart sink to the bottom of his chest.

“I’m so happy it was just a little mixup.” Harry smiles as he watches you look genuinely more relaxed as you lean into his touch.

“Me too because I really didn’t want to have to fire her.” You roll your eyes making Harry raise an eyebrow at you. “What? You don’t think I’d do it?”

“You can’t fire her Harry because we haven’t hired her yet.” You state as you loosely wrap your arms around his neck. “This is like the test run and if we see something we like then Jane will handle setting it all up for the day of.” Harry just nods and you begin messing with the hair at the back of his neck.

“Well just for the record I’d happily fire her if I needed to.”

“Really?”

“There’s not a lot I wouldn’t do for you love.” You smile at his answer as he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead before he leans all the way down and places a sweet kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He mumbles against your lips before giving you one more little peck.

“I love you too” Harry can’t help but grin as he pulls away because he’ll never get tired of hearing those words leave your mouth.

“Okay now tell me does this fit your wedding more?” Harry’s hand drops from your face and your arms go from around his neck as Malory appears with one of the most beautiful arrangements you’ve ever seen in her hands. Harry smiles as he watches you walk over to the table she carefully sets it down on so you can get a closer look but he can tell by the smile on your face that you love it.

“This is gorgeous.” Your answer makes Malory smile as she goes to grab another example for the two of you to look at. “We might actually have centerpieces at our wedding.” Harry chuckles as you turn and stare at him with a giant smile on your face as you excitedly clap your hands and do your signature happy dance.

“Thank god because what’s a wedding without centerpieces?”

[lottiies]

one of his many journal entries about you

arthur morgan x fem!reader and male!reader <33

i won’t lie…i have 45 hours on the game and i’m not even past chapter 2 (っ- ‸ – ς) why progress when i can save myself the pending heartbreak and instead admire this pretty man and his journal sketches?

anyways…love all you arthur morgan kissers ♡

“my body doesn’t feel right as of late. my hands are too rough, my face is all wrinkled up, and my voice isn’t all that pleasant. if only i could sound as smooth as i write.

never been the most confident of men, but well, this body’s what i’m stuck with. used to go months on end without shaving until i realized my beard looked like bills. how embarrassing. miss grimshaw, the strong-headed woman she is, knocked some sense into me too. well…more like slapped me.

shaving makes me look more approachable, and that’s not really a good thing with my reputation. but, i did it anyway and spent a pretty penny on the barber up in valentine’s…had to pay a bit extra because of the drunken ruckus lenny and i caused there last time.

if my heart hadn’t been captured, maybe these worries of mine wouldn’t even exist.

oh, the ridiculous things love does to a man…”

꒰ fem!reader ꒱

“about as beautiful as the stars above; a woman so otherworldly that sometimes I have to look away. she shines too brightly for these tired eyes of mine. i suppose that’s for the best, ain’t it? a man like me, the walking embodiment of sin, isn’t worthy of such a loving lady.

but that doesn’t keep her away. she often asks me to recount some of my adventures, and i hesitantly do so, fearful she’ll think me a bad man. craziest thing is, she looks more worried than anything else whenever i do as told. telling me to be more careful with that honey-like voice of hers. could listen to it all day. it’s like a balm to the soul.

can’t keep myself away from her either. doesn’t matter what she’s doing, i always find myself wandering over to her. i don’t usually have trouble sleeping, i’m like some rock when it comes to it. but she’s occupied my mind too much lately, falling asleep is difficult. like right now. should be sleeping, but i’m not. just up wondering about the ifs and hows.

i’ve been saving up some money so i can go get her something real nice, maybe a pretty dangly necklace. could just steal one, but i want to prove myself to her. she deserves the best, not something that belonged to some other stranger.

god knows i’d do whatever i can to keep her safe and sound. i’d die for her. funny thing is, i considered myself to be a selfish man before breathing the same air as her.

i can say with absolute certainty that i would give up everything for a future with her.

if she’d have me.

…

now, this fool’s about to try and sketch her.

not sure if i can encapsulate her beauty onto a page, though.”

꒰ male!reader ꒱

“i fear I’m going mad. i never thought i’d feel this way about a man before. then again, pursuit of romance has never been a priority in my life. he’s one of a kind, something about him makes my palms feel all clammy.

he never leaves my head, every inch of this brain of mine is consumed with thoughts of him. his grin, the way his hat perches on his head, the stories he shares ‘round the campfire.

i’ve come across many men on all my journeys, but his handsomeness is unmatched. and he’s different. doesn’t nag me like dutch or get on my nerves like micah, but he isn’t just a brother like some of the other folks here.

i’ve been a bit too scared to drink these days. you know me, i spill my guts out and say stupid things like a damn fool when i get like that. wouldn’t know what to do if i were to sputter out how fine of a fella i think he is, or how grateful i am for him. is this only a special friendship? no, i don’t know how to describe this.

well, yes i do, actually.

love.

my fingers trembled while writing that.

some may call this spark a sin, but going down an altar with him would be a taste of heaven itself. that wish is too far-fetched though.

all i ask for is a sign. just one. maybe i’m misreading the glimmer in his eye, or the way the bastard slings his arm over my shoulder and sings after he downs some moonshine.

weird how life works, isn’t it?”

[zepskies]

Hello. I was wondering if you could write an imagine in the BMD-verse (been following it for a while now; love, love, love it, by the way!) where Ben cries?

Like something really bad happens in general or to the Reader, and he losses it? I mean, personally, I have never known this man to cry, and I would love to see you conjure up something that could possibly elicite that reaction from him.

But no pressure - will definitely understand if you don't want to write it!

Oooh, so you really wanna kill me, huh? 🫠😭😭

Lol it's okay, thank you for loving Break Me Down!! It's one of my favorite story verses that I've been able to create on here. ❤️❤️

This request was difficult for me on multiple levels, but I think I was able to pull it off? (I'll let you be the judge.) This is set in the BMD-verse, shortly after "Love Actually."

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Word Count: 2,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst, show-level violence, hurt/comfort, "twist" ending (you'll want to read until the end, trust me).

Imagine: Ben loses you.

Ben restrained another sigh when he realized you were no longer walking next to him.

He turned and saw you stopping in another damn kiosk, this time looking at a selection of Pashmina scarves. As if you didn’t have enough clothes.

“We’re not here for a damn shopping spree,” he called after you.

He ignored the people who glanced at him as they walked past, a couple of them even shooting him an annoyed look.

One didn’t just stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk in New York City, but as with most societal protocols, Ben couldn't really give a fuck.

He almost started tapping his foot. Instead, he crossed his arms as he glared in your general direction. You were smiling and chatting with the woman selling her wares as you finished the transaction.

Ben at least could admire the view of you bent over in those tight jeans and ankle boots. You also wore the dark green winter coat he bought you last month, lined with faux fur to keep you warm.

When you eventually came back to him, you shot him an amused smile. You held a new scarf in shades of green and blue, to match your coat. But you also held out a new pair of leather gloves for him.

“Here you go, Grumpy. I didn't forget about you,” you teased. He raised a wry brow at you and took the gloves. He inspected them with a half-critical eye.

“And how much did these cost, five cents?”

You rolled your eyes and kept walking. He caught up with you and slipped the gloves into his pocket.

“My hands don’t get cold anyway,” he reminded you. And you often complained that his body heat was like a radiator, especially at night. Although, you hadn’t been complaining since the winter turned frigid this February.

“All right, whatever. Just don’t say I never get you anything,” you quipped. “Besides, you know you love to accessorize.”

A smirk pulled at Ben’s lips. The gloves were a half-assed gift, but he still wore the watch you got him for Christmas proudly on his wrist. That was a nice silver Rolex.

“All I know is, we’d better not be late for this damn meeting,” he said. “I don’t wanna hear Mallory’s fucking mouth.”

The two of you had made a day of coming into the city, hitting a nice brunch spot and ice skating at Rockefeller center before your date had been rudely interrupted—by a call for a new mission.

Grace Mallory had been a bit cryptic on the phone, but it had something to do with the mess Ben left of the drug cartels in South America. After they got back to the States, Ben left that “business” behind…he just hadn’t thought of how that would shake out in Colombia.  

So now, you two were headed to the Supe Affairs building. You slipped your arm around his, while his hands were in his pockets. You looked up at him with a smile.

“Try to enjoy the little things, Ben,” you told him. “We had mimosas and some bougie ass lobster tails with our eggs this morning. I skated circles around you on the ice. And now we’re going to get some work done.”

“On our day off,” he retorted.

“To be fair, you made the mess, Mr. Kingpin,” you pointed out. “We’ve just gotta clean it up…as usual.”

“Hey," he eyed you. But you both knew the warning had little heat behind it.

He still reached for your cheek and brushed his thumb across it. He felt how cold your face was, and he stopped for a moment in the middle of the sidewalk. Neither of you cared when pedestrians gave you dirty looks as they passed by.

Maybe you were right though. Maybe he should take stock of the small moments. Ben held your face with both hands and caressed some warmth back into your skin.

Your smile softened, and your eyes closed when his lips found their way to your forehead. He then took the newly bought scarf out of your hand and wrapped it comfortably around your neck.

“What a gentleman,” you said, with a small grin.

Ben smirked down at you…until his face fell.

He heard the whistle of the bullet before he saw it.

It took him another second to move, grabbing you and shielding you with his entire body when it hit his back. The bullet itself bounced harmlessly off his skin, but the inner compartment of Novichok exploded like a small smoke bomb. The smell was too familiar to him to be anything else.

Ben coughed and was forced to push you away from him before the gas reached you. You yelped and almost tripped on your feet, but you scrambled back against the wall of a drycleaners. Your wide eyes met his as his knees buckled; the gas had clouded around his head.

“Run!” he shouted through fits of coughing.

You hesitated, for just a second. But when another bullet ricocheted into the wall behind you, near your head, you ducked and had to take off running.

You wove through the busy sidewalk, pushing people out of your way as you went. Whoever was after him this time, you had a feeling these were the people Ben had pissed off in Colombia.

Fuck! You sprinted past an alleyway and saw the hand coming for your arm, but even when you turned, there was another man, dressed a black military-style uniform with his face covered by a black mask, waiting to grab you from behind.

It was muscle memory. You released an elbow into the man’s neck, a punch straight into his teeth and nose, then kicked his knee out with the heel of your boot.

You grabbed your gun from under your jacket and would've shot him, except the next man wheelhouse kicked it out of your hand. You stepped back on instinct, ducking the following punch, and the rest of his arm to run in the opposite direction.

The first man pointed a large automatic gun straight in your face. You gasped and put your hands up. With a quick glance in either direction, you realized that they’d cornered you.

Your hands were pulled behind your back by someone else. That’s when they started dragging you toward a black SUV parked in the corner.

Except that car was soon destroyed, by an old Honda Civic being shoved into it. The SUV's hood constantined like an accordion.

You looked up with wide eyes, and there stood Ben, at the crossroads of the alley. He was furious.

“Soldier Boy,” greeted the man who once again held the automatic gun poised at you. He pulled down his mask, revealing the tan face of a middle-aged man.

He moved over to you and grabbed your arm from his subordinate. He raised the gun to your back. With one press of his finger, your insides could become Swiss cheese.

Your jaw clenched as you tried to take in even breaths. You focused on Ben. His green eyes met yours, and briefly you caught the worry behind them before his steely gaze moved back to the man who held you.

“Pretty ballsy, Reyes,” Ben said. His voice was a drawl, more controlled than he felt. “You really thought this was gonna go down that easy?”

Reyes scoffed. “You’re the ballsy one. Taking off with all that product you stole.”

“You’ll have to take up with the CIA on that one,” Ben replied. “They confiscated all the smack from my place. Probably reselling it to a few hobos down the street. You’re welcome to check under the bridge over there.”

He gestured in the direction of the Hudson River.  

Reyes shrugged. The sound of a gun’s safety being clipped back resounded through the alley. You felt the vibration of it on your back. Your eyes closed for a moment.

“Bad news for her,” he said.

"Hey," Ben snapped. "There's no fucking need for that."

"I think I'll decide what we need," said Reyes. Your lips pursed as the gun dug into your back. "Maybe it's your bitch's insides at your feet."

Ben slowly raised a placating hand. Though his gait was still relaxed and arrogant, as always, you knew it was a well-crafted act. To hide his anger. His fear. To seem in control of himself, and to reinforce the intimidating presence he still was, even unarmed.

“Listen. If it’s money you want, we can work it out,” Ben replied.

His eyes once again found yours. He could see you were holding your breath. You were good at hiding it, but he knew you were scared. He wanted to tell you that he had this handled. That everything would be all right.

He focused on Reyes again. The other man considered the supe with a tilt of his head. He sucked his teeth and spit on the ground, out of the corner of his mouth. It was mixed with a bit of blood from when you'd punched him in the teeth.

“Okay, my friend,” said Reyes. “Let’s work this out. Pull out your phone.”

Ben made slow movements in grabbing his phone from his pocket. They all stepped further into the alley to avoid prying eyes and discussed the transfer of funds, and how much was fair. Ben claimed he was giving him a deal with his first offer.

Reyes demanded three times that amount. Ben raised his brows...but he complied. The money transferred from his bank account.

“Okay, we’re fucking done,” Ben snarked. He gestured at you with his eyes. “Let her go.”

In his mind, he was already contemplating how thoroughly he'd rip Reyes apart for this. After you were safe. He'd have a first class ticket to Medellin by tonight, ready to Colombian-necktie this cocksucker.

Reyes sighed through his nose. There was still about ten feet between him and Ben. He didn't seem to think it was enough. He took the gun off your back and backed up with you a few steps. Eventually, he released your arm.

“Come ‘ere, sweetheart,” Ben reached a hand out, beckoning for you. You met his gaze once again, and let out a subtle breath.

You took three hesitant steps forward.

And the gunshots echoed horribly through the alley.

As it turned out, Reyes always had an escape plan. You were merely the distraction.

It proved effective, as Ben’s protest rang out as soon as the bullets fired. He raced forward and caught you as you stumbled, but his hands soon became coated in your blood; it fled from your back in thin rivulets.

You gasped and clung to his arms. His ears rang with the sound, along with tires squealing and shouts and police sirens. All he could focus on was the color draining from your face.

Both of your breaths came out ragged as he slid with you down to his knees. He brushed your hair away from your face, even as his blood-covered hand stained your cheek. Your pained eyes drew up to his face. You tried to speak, but you didn't have the strength.

“I hear the sirens. They’re coming for you, take you to the hospital,” he promised. His voice was rough, but his throat was tight. His eyes scanned over you. “All you need is my blood and…Christ. Fuck it all.”

He laid you down on the dirty asphalt and hurriedly yanked up his coat sleeve until it ripped. It exposed his arm. He was about to drag a blunt nail across his own skin to bleed into you.

“Ben.” Your fingers twitched against his knee.

When he looked at your face, there was no longer life in your eyes.

His own were wide, almost uncomprehending. His breathing was harsh as empty hands fell to his thighs. His head felt heavy, though his ears were still ringing.

He drew enough strength in his hand to wipe the blood from your cold cheek…but your face was beginning to blur.

Or not, he realized, as the sting in his eyes took him by surprise.

In a fit of mania, he gathered you back up in his arms and ignored the wetness covering your back. He held you, impossibly tight. Tighter than he’d ever held you, because he was alone in the alley…because he was alone again.

And it was his own fault.

His eyes squeezed shut against the burn, but it was futile. Everything was. His breaths were sharp and stifled as pain tore inside. A pain worse than anything the Russian's could've inflicted on him.

His lips pressed against your forehead, trembling there. The first drops of wetness rolled down his cheek. He couldn't stop it from happening, but then again. He guessed he truly was a failure, after all.

You made the mess…

His first tears had been spent at his mother’s funeral, when he stood alone at her gravestone.

His last ones would fall and die with you.

“Ben,” your voice was soft but insistent.

He finally woke with a start. A sharp inhale through his nose.

He had been sleeping on his side. Before he even truly registered where he was, in the safety of his bedroom, he turned his head toward you.

His eyes found your face in the dark, over his shoulder. Your hair was frizzy from sleep. The strap of your nightgown had fallen off one shoulder. Your face looked bleary and tired, but you frowned in concern.

“You okay, baby?” you asked. Your hand soothed across the dewy skin on his arm.

Ben’s throat constricted. He was starting to remember bits and pieces of the dream…the nightmare. He rubbed at his eyes, then dragged a hand over his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said at last.

“Hmm.” Your gaze narrowed at him. “You sure?”

Ben had only enough energy in him to nod in response. His heart was still racing. Maybe you sensed that, because you leaned onto his arm and dropped a hand down his chest. You kissed his bare shoulder with soft lips, and he couldn’t help himself.

He raised a hand to cup the back of your head. He let out a long, relieved sigh through his nose, closing his eyes. Then he turned onto his back and brought you closer, with an arm slipping around your frame and pulling you against his chest. You made a sound of surprise, but you went willingly.

You brushed the sweaty strands of hair away from his face and pressed a kiss against his neck, to his jaw, his cheek and above his brow. He accepted it all and tried to calm his breathing with the feeling of your touch, and the smell of your flowery soap that lingered on your skin.

With a hand still cupping your head, he guided your lips to his. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. You answered him by tilting your head, deepening the kiss for a moment.

You parted from him just as slowly. You knew everything wasn’t okay, but you also knew it wasn’t the time to push him for an answer.

Maybe in the morning, you thought. …I’ll make pancakes. Haven't done that in a while. And he’s always happier with something sweet.

You rested contentedly against his warm chest and let his heartbeat, gradually slowing back into a steady rhythm, lull you back to sleep.

Ben tangled his fingers into your hair. He laid one more kiss on the top of your head.

And for damn sure, he was going to cancel that trip into the city tomorrow.

AN: I know, I know. The "it was all a dream" thing is super cheesy, but I couldn't leave it on heartbreak. I just don't have it in me with these two. 🥲❤️‍🩹

Read the Sequel:

A friend of mine requested a sequel to this imagine: "You confront Ben about his fears."

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

[stevie-petey]

episode three: holly, jolly

Jonathan, your Jonathan, would never do this.  He tries to approach you again but you find yourself stumbling back, knocking against Steve’s chest. Hurt flashes in his eyes, you’ve never flinched at Jonathan’s touch, but what he did has changed everything.  Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hard-wired into them. They just can’t help themselves.”  He begins tearing up the pictures, and you can’t believe Jonathan of all people is making you agree with Harrington, yet here you are.

summary: you and jonathan talk it out and things are better (spoiler alert: they aren't), you somehow end up agreeing with steve harrington ?? then you have a minor breakdown in front of the kids and once again fail to prevent them from experiencing more trauma.

rating: general, slight cursing.

warnings: cursing, use of the word “slut”, fem!reader, use of y/n, and description of a dead body. this chapter is pure angst, steve is steve, jonathan is jonathan, and... well. we know how this episode ends.

words: 6.2k

before you swing in: hello ! i'm currently in the early stages of chapter 5, and it's a loooong chapter, so i figured i'd treat y'all to this one before taking my time with updating. this chapter was a bit difficult in terms of bug and jonathan, but i promise that they'll have more time later to really figure out why they keep clashing - for better or for worse lol. if their relationship feels stilted: that's why ! after all, season 1 is literally titled: we don't talk about it or have the time. the title has immense meaning for the overall tone of season 1 (and the song for the series shhh). anyways, enjoy <3

-

The next day you bike to school alone, not bothering to see if Jonathan’s car will pick you up as usual. 

The two of you have never fought before, at least not like this. From the moment you met him when you were twelve, there has never been a time where the two of you haven’t been on the same page. You’ve been in sync from the moment you met. 

Now it feels like everything is off between the two of you. It feels as if the tiny planet you live on is now off kilter, angled ever so slightly now, rotating out of sync. The change is almost imperceptible, but it’s there. You can feel it. 

Last night just proved that there’s something wrong with your relationship with Jonathan, but you can’t figure out what.

Jonathan has never yelled at you before, and you’ve never turned your back on him; then again, he’s also never kept anything from you. While he didn’t admit it last night, you know him. He was hiding something from you last night and it frightens you that he seems too ashamed to tell you what it is. 

You trust him, you do, but the guilt you saw in his eyes makes you uneasy. 

As you walk the school hallway towards your locker, you overhear some girls from your English class talking about Steve and Nancy. You normally wouldn’t eavesdrop on such a conversation, but the girls were talking obnoxiously loud and by the tone of their voice, they weren’t being kind about what they were saying. 

“I heard Harrington got little Miss Wheeler to sleep with him.” One of the girls giggles, looking around to make sure no one is listening.  

“What a slut!” Her friend sneers.

You clear your throat loudly, making sure they hear it, and send a glare their way. “Well, aren’t you guys just peachy?” 

The girls lower their eyes and shift uncomfortably, which pleases you. Good. They should feel bad. What does it matter if Nancy slept with Harrington? It’s always the girls who get labeled the slut, never the man who has slept with more girls than classes he’s passed. 

Typical. 

You roll your eyes at them and continue towards your locker, spotting the couple in question up ahead. Your locker is a few down from Nancy’s and usually you’ve been able to avoid their gross lovey-dovey sessions in the mornings since Jonathan is always running late, but since you didn’t ride with him, you’re forced to deal with two hormonal teens who you don’t necessarily like. 

“Hey, Henderson!” 

Steve stops you as you walk past, causing you to look up in confusion. “Yeah?” 

“How’s Byers doing? Ya know, with everything going on?”

You stare at him, trying to figure out what the punchline is supposed to be. Steve may not be a massive dick, but he’s still a dick, and you can’t imagine he’d ever ask about Jonathan given the fact that he can’t even remember Will’s name. 

“He’s… dealing.” You say, uncomfortable with the entire conversation. 

Steve nods, letting out a slight hum. “Well, tell your guy that any friend of Henderson’s is a friend of mine.” He sends a wink Nancy’s way, and it’s then that you figure out what he’s doing. He’s playing the nice guy card, trying to impress her with his “generosity”, and you’ve had enough of idiotic and emotionally constipated men these last 24 hours. 

“Funny, I don’t tell my friends to get fucked, yet here we are: get fucked, Harrington.” Steve’s eyes widen at your words, taken aback, and Nancy goes to say something but you cut her off. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Nancy. Why don’t you ask him why everyone’s staring at you? I’m sure it’ll be a thrilling conversation.”

You shove past the two of them and make your way to class. 

– 

You don’t see Jonathan for your next three classes, which only makes your shitty day worse. Not only have you guys never fought before, but you’ve never done the silent treatment either. As far as you can tell, there’s no reason for him not to be in class today besides your fight the night before. 

When it’s your lunch hour you try to find him, because at this point you just want to put it all behind you and move on to focus on Will. You never got the chance to tell Jonathan about El last night, you hadn’t had the time to before things blew up. 

You wait at your usual corner of the lunchroom for Jonathan, but he never appears. You sigh in defeat and pick at your meal, which honestly looks more like prison food than anything else, trying to figure out what you should do next. 

While you’re thinking, Carol’s obnoxious moans carry through the lunchroom. “Oh, Steve! Steeeve!”

Tommy joins in now, banging the table to get a bigger reaction. You see Steve trying not to smile at their antics, but it’s obvious to everyone how uncomfortable Nancy is. You feel pity for her, she deserves better than Harrington and his immature friends. Then again, you suppose she chose this for herself the second she started dating him. 

King Steve has never hidden who he is. 

You watch as Steve says something to appease her, but something catches Nancy’s eye and she turns to face it. Curious, you turn as well and spot Jonathan staring right back at her. They share a look, one that you can’t decipher, and you feel something twist within your stomach. 

It’s not jealousy, at least, not in that way. Jonathan is your only real friend in Hawkins (the kids don’t count, you recognize how embarrassing that is), and you’ve never had to share him before. Clearly Nancy has taken an interest in him of some sort and Jonathan, being ever the private person, has allowed her to, so you just have to swallow down your pride and accept it. 

Besides, you did always tell Jonathan that the two of you needed more friends. 

Taking a deep breath to will your nerves away, you ditch your lunch and follow after Jonathan. Screw whatever silent treatment is in place, he’s your best friend and you honestly don’t think it’s possible for you to ever be angry at him. It just isn’t in your nature. 

For better or for worse, you could never hate Jonathan Byers. 

You catch Jonathan as he’s leaving the photo developing room. He’s holding some pictures in his hands but quickly hides them away when he sees you. 

“Y/N, hi.” 

You ignore the voice in the back of your head telling you that something’s wrong, that he’s still acting weird with you, but you ignore it because you just want some normalcy in your life. You need your best friend. “Hey,”

“Look, I’m so sorry for what I said last night…” 

You brush him off, “It’s okay, I promise.”

Jonathan huffs at you, exasperated as always whenever you let people get away with things that they shouldn’t. “No, it’s not okay. You’ve been nothing short of amazing and I was the dick who yelled at you for it.” 

The two of you are walking out of the school as you talk, and you let out a weak laugh. “I guess you were pretty awful, huh?”

He doesn’t laugh along with you, instead shaking his head in shame. “You didn’t deserve that, not after all you’ve done for me and my mom. I was lying through my teeth last night, you are family, Y/N.” 

“I appreciate the sentiment, but it’s genuinely okay-” 

“Bug, I was a dick. End of discussion. I just… sometimes it feels like I don’t deserve your help, you do so much for us. I let it get to me last night, and I’ll never stop apologizing for it.”

You don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the vulnerability. “Just… don’t do that again, alright? If something is bothering you I’d rather you tell me about it than take your frustration out on me.”

“Deal.”

“Anything else on your mind?” 

Jonathan thinks for a moment and you can tell he’s trying to word whatever is on his mind correctly. “While I know you’ve always loved to help, there’s some things that I have to do on my own, okay? Will, my mom… they’re my responsibility, not yours. I mean, not in a bad way-” 

“Hey, I understand. I need to back off a bit, I recognize that now. I’m sorry, bee.” You kick at a rock in the parking lot, “so we’ve got ourselves a deal?” 

The boy gives you a quizzical look and you laugh at him, extending your hand. When he grabs it, you turn the hold into a handshake. “I’ll calm down my fretting antics and you’ll come to me about whatever is on your mind, no matter what; we don’t hide anything from each other.”

The slight smile Jonathan briefly had on his face vanishes. He pales slightly and quickly releases your hand. “Right.” 

You eye him. “Bee, what aren’t you telling me?”

Caught up in conversation, you and Jonathan don’t see Steve and his gang resting against his car until it’s too late. 

“Hey, man.” Steve approaches, effectively ending your conversation with Jonathan. He glances at you. “Henderson, good to see you again.” 

“I highly doubt it.” 

“What’s going on?” Jonathan asks, putting himself between you and Steve. 

“Nicole here was telling us about your work.”  

Confused, you look at Jonathan. “What, did you start another photo series or something?” 

Steve laughs coldly. “You could say that.” 

Jonathan ignores him and pulls you close behind him, ducking his head down to whisper into your ear, “it’s not what it looks like, trust me.” 

“Bee, what-”

“Henderson, want to take a look with us as, you know, connoisseurs of art?” 

You look at Steve now, more confused than ever, but you feel a slight sense of dread. You know that whatever photo he’s about to pull out will be bad. You know it’ll be connected to Jonathan’s behavior last night, to the guilt he’s been carrying, to the way he hid the same pictures from you not even ten minutes ago. 

You look back to Jonathan now, silently pleading with him for more of an explanation, but he averts his eyes. Exhaling deeply, you face Steve. “Show me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jonathan says, trying to walk away, but Tommy grabs at his backpack. 

“Hey!” You run up to Tommy and start pulling at the bag, but the guy is twice your size and easily wins, accidentally flinging you to the ground. 

Jonathan runs over to check on you. “Y/N!”

At the same time, Steve berates his friend. “Woah, Tommy, easy man! Henderson isn’t who we’re here for, leave her out of this.” 

Both boys crouch next to you and offer you a hand, but you bat them away. You’re irritated and confused and pissed the fuck off at both of them right now for vastly different reasons. You pick yourself up and brush away some dirt that got on your jeans. “Show me the photos, Jonathan.” 

He looks at you, hurt. “Do you not trust me?” 

“Do you trust me?” Your words hang in the air.

Steve is now right behind you. “Oh man he’s like, totally trembling. He must really have something to hide.” 

Jonathan tries to step closer to you, but Steve is now the one who blocks him. You watch silently as he unzips Jonathan’s bag and pulls out the photos, ignoring the pleading look that your friend sends your way. You trust Jonathan more than anyone else in this world, but something doesn’t feel right. 

The photos are tame at first, though admittedly creepy. They’re all still shots of Steve and his friends from the night before, you recognize the famous pool that the whole school talks about when it comes to Harrington’s parties. 

“Your boyfriend is a creep, Y/N.” Steve says, nudging you with his shoulder as he continues to flick through the pictures. 

“He isn’t my-” 

“I was looking for my brother.”

Jonathan’s words make you freeze. “You went looking for Will without me?” 

Steve says something else, but you don’t catch it. You stare at Jonathan, hurt that he’d search for Will without even telling you first. He’s his brother, you understand that, but what would you do if Jonathan went missing too?

Nancy then appears, causing Jonathan to finally look up to catch your eye, but he quickly looks away. “Here’s the starring lady!”

She laughs nervously. “What?”

Carol explains what was going on, and you’re too upset to speak. There’s too many thoughts going through your mind, but when Carol flashes you a picture of Nancy, naked, it takes everything in you not to throw up. 

Jonathan, your Jonathan, would never do this. 

He tries to approach you again but you find yourself stumbling back, knocking against Steve’s chest. Hurt flashes in his eyes, you’ve never flinched at Jonathan’s touch, but what he did has changed everything. 

Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hard-wired into them. They just can’t help themselves.” 

He begins tearing up the pictures, and you can’t believe Jonathan of all people is making you agree with Harrington, yet here you are. 

Nancy is his girlfriend, and even outside of that, Jonathan had no right taking pictures of her naked without her consent. You agree with Steve’s actions, but then the camera comes into play. He reaches for Jonathan’s camera, causing him to dive forward to stop anything from happening to it, and it’s finally what breaks you from your shock. 

You react as well, shoving past Steve to try and get to the camera first, but it’s no use. He beats you to it, Carol now holding you back as she digs her claws into your skin. Jonathan is being held back by Tommy, and all the two of you can do is watch helplessly as Steve dangles the camera high in the air. 

What Jonathan did was wrong, there’s no denying that, but you know how long it took him to save up for the thing. How many awful shifts he picked up at the theater to pay for it, adamantly refusing any money both you and Joyce offered him to help pay for it. 

This camera was his and his alone. Paid for with his own money, bought for his own enjoyment, his pride and joy. 

“Here you go, man.” Without even hesitating, Steve lets the camera fall to the ground. 

You gasp, watching as the lens shatters and you crouch down to try and piece it back together. Your hands are shaking, you don’t know what to feel right now, but with how badly your hands shake, it’s no use trying to fix the camera; you need something to distract yourself with. 

Jonathan and Nancy join you on the ground, but you’re too overwhelmed to really notice them. The combination of emotions leaves you wondering if you’re about to cry, throw up, or both. It’s only when Nancy begins snatching up the torn pictures that you acknowledge her presence. 

You grab her hand and catch her eye, “I’m so, so sorry.”

She doesn’t respond, only giving you a slightly confused look, and you recognize how stupid it is that you feel the need to apologize for Jonathan’s actions. You aren’t his keeper, and until now you never even considered he’d do something like this, and yet the guilt creeps in. You open your mouth to say something else, but Steve calls her over to join them and she leaves. 

Jonathan is still next to you, remaining silent even after Nancy’s departure. You can feel his eyes on you as you continue to fumble with the broken camera pieces as a gust of wind blows away the remaining photo shreds. 

“Shit!” A shard of glass from the lens cuts your finger, drawing blood. 

“Bug, let me-” Jonathan grabs at your hand to inspect the cut, but you pull away harshly. 

“Don’t touch me!” 

“Y/N…” The hurt look on his face is almost enough to make you crack, but the blood drips from your finger and falls onto a picture that somehow didn’t blow away. You look at it, seeing the outline of Nancy’s back in the photo, her beautiful side profile perfectly captured. 

The urge to throw up returns. 

“You’re hurt, let me look at it.” Jonathan pleads, his voice soft, with more empathy than he’s ever shown you these last few days. It’s as if last night never happened. As if you’re some idiot who is always ready and willing to come crawling back to those who discard you whenever they please. 

In a way, you suppose that you are. 

You hate it. 

Jonathan tries to grab your hand again but you stand up before he can. “I said don’t touch me.” 

He tries to grab you once more but again you pull away. Your brain is a mess right now trying to comprehend everything that happened within the last fifteen minutes. You look down at the broken camera pieces still laying on the ground, its glass reflecting in the late afternoon light. 

Those photos of Nancy… 

God, you’re an idiot. 

“Nancy is the reason you were such an asshole to me last night, isn’t she?”

“Y/N, those photos-”

“You knew that the second I looked at you I’d know you’d done something terrible.”

Jonathan is silent beside you, but you don’t need to hear whatever excuse he’ll give you to know that you’re right. Instead of telling you what he did last night, he kicked you out of his home in a guilt-crazed daze, saying horrible things to you that he can never take back. 

Instead of being honest with you, he had been a goddamn coward who hurt you in the cruelest way possible. 

Jonathan runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Look, you know I’ve never been able to lie to you-”

“So naturally you resorted to screaming at me and saying we aren’t family-”

“I regret what I said, but how was I supposed to tell you about the photos if I don’t even know why I took them in the first place?” 

You start pacing around the parking lot, too overwhelmed to stay put. Jonathan’s words only confuse and upset you more. In the midst of your frantic pacing the cut on your finger begins to bleed more, which causes you to wince and catch Jonathan’s attention.

“Bug, you’re in pain,” his voice is gentle now, the worried crease between his brows now prominent in a way that you’ve always found cute. “I’m not just going to stand around while you’re hurt. Let me help.” 

Unfortunately for Jonathan, his words only piss you off more. 

“You’re not just going to stand around while I’m hurt? That’s fucking rich coming from you, Jonathan.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This entire week I’ve been hurting! I mean,” you let out a laugh laced with tears threatening to spill out. “I lost Will too, did you ever consider that? And I understand he’s your brother and I would lose my mind if anything ever happened to Dustin, but I’ve done nothing but love and support you through this shit show and you haven’t even asked how I’m holding up. I mean, what kind of best friend does that?”

Shame washes over Jonathan. “I didn’t think-” 

“I’ve been exhausting myself trying to help and not once have I considered it a burden because I’m doing this for Will, for you. I’m doing what any decent person is supposed to do, and I’m not asking for praise or-or for a reward but holy fuck, Jonathan! I mean, I understand now that maybe I was bit too much but,”

You’re yelling at him now, all the frustration you’ve been swallowing down these last few days now spills out. “At least treat me like a human being! I mean, the stunt you pulled last night was such bullshit and I was ready to excuse your actions because you’re my best friend and you’re hurting, but then you hide those damn photos from me? Scream at me like I’m some pathetic fucking child because you’re too ashamed of your own actions? We don’t lie to each other.”

Jonathan steps towards you and it isn’t until he’s cradling your head in his hands to wipe away your tears do you realize you’re crying. He’s so tender, gently wiping the tears as they fall, and you feel weak against him, closing your eyes as you soak up the affection. 

“Bug…” His voice cracks, not knowing what else to say. 

You open your eyes now. “You went looking for Will without me… did you even think about what your mom would do if you disappeared too? What I would do if you disappeared?”

“I…”

“And Nancy…” you pull away so that he’s no longer touching you. “That was a line I never thought you would cross. And to lie to me about it, I just… why?”

Jonathan shakes his head, a few tears of his own now beginning to fall. “I don’t know.” 

There’s nothing else you can say; you’ve drained all your energy. A headache is beginning to form and with the parking lot clearing out, indicating the end of the school day, you know you need to leave for work soon. 

Normally when you look at Jonathan, you feel a sense of security, but now all you feel is dread. His shoulders are hunched, the bags under his eyes darker than ever, and at this moment you’re not sure you know who he is anymore. It terrifies the shit out of you. 

“I should go,” you wipe your nose with your sleeve, side stepping Jonathan as you start walking towards the bike stand. 

“You’re leaving?” There’s fear in his voice, and you can hear the undertones of are you leaving me, too?

“I have to work tonight, so I need to-” 

“Let me drive you then, it’s cold and-and we can talk more about this-”

He follows you to your bike and you feel such pity for him. You know he’s right about needing to talk more, but all you want right now is to crawl into bed and pretend that this whole week has been a dream. A horrible, awful dream. 

You offer Jonathan your hand, the cut on your finger no longer bleeding, and intertwine your fingers with his. “I want to be alone right now, okay? Please, just give me some time.” 

He wants to argue with you, you can see it in his eyes, but just like you know him better than anyone else, he knows you just as well. He knows there’s no use trying to change your mind when you get like this; when the feelings become too much and solitude is your only solution. It's happened before in the past, but never with him. 

All he can do is wait for you to come back when you're ready. 

“Okay, I can do that.” 

You squeeze his hand, like you always do, before you let go and bike away. 

He watches as you leave. 

– 

Tonight’s shift is another slow one, which you’re grateful for. 

It was just last week that Jonathan had been driving you, Will, and Dustin to school. You’d been singing some song on the radio and the November air had a slight nostalgia of August warmth. Will and Dustin complained about your singing as you wailed on, Jonathan eventually joining in so that the two younger boys could only cover their ears with their hands and groan in annoyance. 

Now Will is gone, taking the August warmth with him and leaving behind only November cold that leaves your bones feeling raw. 

The laughter is gone, and now you’re afraid that your best friend is gone as well. 

You come home to an empty house, a note on the kitchen counter informing you that your mother is at her knitting club and that Dustin is off with his friends. 

Wonderful. Your brother has once again gone off on some adventure without informing you first. What a lovely addition to your already horrible day. 

You call the Wheeler’s first, hoping that maybe you don’t have to bike around the entire town to find the little shit, but like always: you’re mistaken. 

“I’m sorry, but the boys went out biking right after school.” 

“Oh, lovely then. Thanks, Mrs. Wheeler, have a good night.” 

“You too, dear!”

As soon as you hang up, you allow yourself a moment to just scream. The headache that formed during your fight with Jonathan hasn’t left, you’re tired, you have so much homework that you’re too afraid to even look at, and you still have no idea who El is or what she really knows about Will. 

And now you have to bike all around Hawkins to find said girl, because there’s no way the morons have listened to your orders to stay put with her. 

You check Lucas’ house first, but Erica tells you that they aren’t there and requests that you inform Lucas that her lying fee has been raised to $5. 

“That’s a bit steep, don’t you think?”

“Do you wanna pay?”

“Good point, have a good night then Erica.”

You then search around the middle school, but there’s no sign of them anywhere. After another thirty minutes of nothing, you finally give in to your hunch and bike to the Byers. You’re not sure if Jonathan will be home, but your idiot brother may need you, so you just have to suck it up and check. 

Ultimately you’re glad you do, because as you ride up the driveway you see the boys circling around El. 

“Why did you bring us here?” 

“I have a better question Mike, why did you bring us here?” None of the kids had noticed your arrival, so they all jump at your voice. 

Dustin’s face goes pale. “Y/N! What-what are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you little assholes for an hour now,” you park your bike and step closer to the kids. “Why do you never listen to me when I tell you guys to keep me updated, huh? Do I have a giant sign on my head that says ‘hey, ignore me and treat me like utter shit!’, is that it?” 

No one responds, too stunned by your words. You never cuss at them, and apart from last night, they don’t think they’ve ever seen you so angry before. 

“I’m just so sick and tired of people treating me like I’m some throwaway toy, just casting me aside and forgetting about me until it’s convenient. I have feelings too, isn’t that a wild concept? I mean, who knew Y/N Henderson had any real emotions behind her pathetic need to help everyone around her!” 

Dustin can hear the hurt in your voice and knows that this isn’t just about them sneaking off. You’re upset about something else, someone hurt you and he needs to know who, so he softly asks, “Y/N, what happened?” 

You spin around to face him. “Nothing! That’s what happened! None of you told me anything, everyone has just decided to keep me out of the loop because god forbid I deserve any honesty after years of being there for you guys-”

“Okay, this is definitely about Jonathan then.” Lucas mumbles, which Mike nods in agreement to. 

“This is not about Jonathan-” The sound of sirens cuts you off. 

Everyone freezes, and your heart stops. This is Hawkins, where nothing ever happens; cops don’t just go flying down the street late at night. 

You know, even before you can fully comprehend how, that it’s Will. You can feel it; the sirens are for him, the precious boy you’ve come to love like your own brother. 

Then, to confirm your fears, an ambulance follows behind the line of cop cars, and you feel your entire world shatter.  

“Will…” Mike exhales, and the second the name leaves his lips everyone scrambles for their bikes to follow the cars. 

You know you shouldn’t, you know this won’t end well, but it’s Will. Maybe he’s alive, maybe he simply got lost in the woods and has been wandering around the last three days or so. There’s so many other possibilities, an endless array of explanations, and yet…

Your legs feel heavy as you pedal after the kids. You know that, no matter what you guys end up finding, that nothing will ever be the same again. As you follow, the route you take begins to look familiar, back when you and Jonathan would spend your summers exploring the forest and its surroundings. 

The quarry. 

Suddenly you can’t breathe. “I… I can’t-” 

“Y/N, we have to see if it’s Will!” Dustin calls behind him, too eager to realize exactly where you guys are going. 

If you could just warn them, maybe speed up to block their paths, you could convince them to turn around, but it’s too late. The five of you arrive at the quarry’s edge and toss your bikes behind the fire truck. You see the firemen in the water, sloshing around for something, and you realize what they’re doing a second too late.

Immediately you begin to pull the kids away, not wanting them to see what you desperately hope you’re wrong about, but you’re too late. “Guys, get away from the truck, we shouldn’t be here-”

You’re always too fucking late. 

“Please, we need to leave,” your voice shakes as you try to shield the kids from the sight of Will’s body being pulled from the water.

Mike pulls away from you. “No, it’s not Will. It can’t be.” 

“Mike…” 

The firemen lift the raft up higher and the light lands on Will’s lifeless body, and you feel a piece of you die. He’s always been the smallest of the boys, but as the men lift his dead body out of the water, he’s never looked so small. Will is gone; he’s taken all the light with him. 

Dustin reaches for your hand and is the first to start crying. You pull him into your chest as he sobs. Lucas looks over at you, a silent acceptance in his eyes. “It’s Will. It’s really Will.” 

You grab the boy and pull him into you as well, the two of them now crying as you hold them. All you can do right is hold your boys, staring off into space as you feel them shake with grief against you. This isn’t real. 

From the corner of your eye you see El approaching Mike, and you’re too numb to warn her against it. “Mike…” 

“‘Mike’? ‘Mike,’ what?” He slaps her hand away, which causes you to become alert. He’s hurting, you know Mike loved Will more than anyone else, but he’ll only hurt himself more if he pushes everyone away. 

“Mike, I know you’re upset-” 

He faces you, a betrayed look in his eyes. “Upset? She was supposed to help us find him alive. She said he was alive!” he turns to El now, “why did you lie to us? What’s wrong with you?”

As he yells at the girl you hear his own tears beginning to form, and as you hold his friends, you lean closer to Mike and use your other hand to console him, but he begins to run away. 

Dustin and Lucas watch helplessly as their friend leaves, you all call after him but are ignored. They beg him to stay, too scared to be separated once more now that Will is gone, but Mike doesn’t listen. He grabs his bike, leaving you and the boys alone with El. 

She looks at you, tears in her eyes and a pleading look on her face. She’s looking to you for reassurance, to console her and tell her that everything will be okay with Mike, that he’ll forgive her, but you can’t. 

You also feel betrayed by the girl. You don’t think she was lying, in a sense, but then how can she explain Will’s dead body 50 feet away? El promised you and the boys that Will was alive, but he’s not. 

Tears start to fall down her face. “Y/N?”

You’re sure that when you look back on this moment later, you will have wished that you had done something braver, something more kind to the terrified girl, but you don’t. Instead of wrapping her into your arms alongside Lucas and Dustin, you give El a curt shake of your head, dismissing her. 

It hurts to watch her leave, and you’re ashamed of yourself, but then Dustin lets out another sob while Lucas tightens his hold around you, and you know that you’ve made the right choice for now. You don’t know El or her intentions, but her actions have hurt the people you love the most, and right now you have to put them first. 

You let the boys cry, barely registering anything else. 

– 

Later, much later, after getting Lucas home and tucking Dustin into bed, you finally allow yourself to grieve. You lay in your bed, staring at the framed drawing on your desk that Will had made you for your birthday this year. It was a sweet gift, having drawn you as a princess in one of their DnD campaigns with your sword and shield. Jonathan stands next to you in the picture, holding his own sword and wearing a crown, while Will and the boys are next to him, dressed in their own armor. 

In the picture the six of you are facing a dragon, but there’s a smile on all of your faces as you fight the creature together. You, Jonathan, and your boys; together, there’s nothing that you guys cannot defeat.

It’s your favorite drawing of Will’s. 

And now it’s your last drawing from him. 

The tears come slowly at first, then all at once. You find yourself hunched over, letting out anguished sobs as you mourn for the boy, for Jonathan and Joyce, for your brother and his friends. You mourn for the Byers losing a child, a brother. You mourn for your brother’s now tainted childhood. He’s too young, they all are too young to be experiencing such a loss. 

Will was too young. 

You cry until there’s nothing left within you, and yet the sobs still wrack against your body long after the tears have dried up. It’s a pain like no else. 

Then, as you’re finally beginning to calm down, you hear a knock at your window. 

You get up and fling your curtain open to find Jonathan on the other side. 

Neither of you say anything as you open the window and let him in. Once he’s inside the two of you face each other, unmoving and silent for what feels like years. There’s still a tension there from earlier, though this afternoon feels like decades ago. Jonathan stares at you, a guarded and unsure look on his face, as though he’s afraid that if he breaks in front of you that you’ll push him away. 

Instead, you surprise him by throwing yourself against his chest and into his arms. 

You’re not sure who begins to cry first, but it doesn’t matter. His cries only make you cry harder, having never seen your best friend this heartbroken before, and it’s all so fucking unfair. He doesn’t deserve this, no one does, but especially not Jonathan. He loved his brother so much, with such an intensity that rivaled your own love for Dustin. 

Jonathan pulls away a bit so that he can look at you; tears stream down his face. “He’s gone, bug.” 

“Bee,” you don’t know what more to say. What can you even say? While it feels like your heart has been ripped from your chest along with your bones, you know it only feels worse for Jonathan. No words could ever soothe that ache. 

“He’s gone,”

You grab at his jacket and gently guide him so that you sit on your bed. “Jonathan, look at me.” It takes some coaxing, but eventually he listens. “I’m here, okay? I’m here.”

Your voice cracks at the end, your own grief getting in the way, but it’s all you can say right now. You’re not sure how else to phrase it, how else to tell him that even if everything and everyone else is gone, you’re still here. You’ll never, ever leave him, especially not when he needs you the most now. 

Despite the vague words, Jonathan nods, always able to understand you, and he rests his head against your shoulder as the two of you cry. Faintly you can hear Dustin’s cries through the wall, but you leave him alone. You know he needs to process this alone, just like you needed to, just like Jonathan had before coming here. 

Tomorrow you’ll comfort your brother, you’ll bake the cookies that Joyce loves, and tonight will pass. A day must always end. This day will end, and tomorrow will come. Then, you’ll face this together with everyone you love. 

For now, your best friend needs you, so you let him cry into your shoulder and you run your nails against his scalp and whisper soothing words. Fuck whatever is going on between the two of you. 

Will is dead. The best of you, the purest of you, is dead.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

⌑ taglist - @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau

[alcoholfreenayeon]

can you do co worker Irene x fem reader,where Irene secretly has a crush on reader and she waits every time for her.But this day readers ex didnt stop calling reader and ended up waiting for her at work so Irene went to reader and acted like her gf.Later Irene took reader to her home and they made out ,THENN READERS EX CALLED AGAIN.irene told her to answer the call and while they were talking reader couldn't stop moaning (English isn't my first language sorry)

A/N: Well….as I wrote this, I realized it was not so much smut but more fluff that’s a bit suggestive so this will be a bit disappointing for all of you who voted for this expecting smut😭(but also horny jail for you all🚔) anyways, this is probably the last request I’m doing before I finish the Angst April fics unless I get a random burst of creativity.

Stupid Cupid

Irene x fem!reader

CW: Fluff, suggestive

Your phone started ringing, once again, right on time, your ex calling you exactly 5 minutes after your lunch break starts so you have no excuse to not pick up other than that you don’t want to talk.

You sigh and pick up, knowing the calls will continue to come if you don’t pick up. “Hello….”

As you talk with your ex, telling her the same thing you have been for the past month, you are seemingly unaware of an annoyed stare in your direction, albeit from afar. Irene watches you, an exasperated look on her face. ‘The audacity of that stupid woman to keep calling her y/n’, she thought to herself. ‘Well…not her y/n….yet’. She really wanted to walk over, snatch the phone out of your hand, tell your ex to fuck off, block her and then kiss you. But alas, she couldn’t do that. And that annoyed her even more. Regardless, she was about to get on with her work when her ears perked up at something you said.

“What! What do you mean you are on your way here? I don’t want to see you. I already sa-. No, we don’t need to give it another tr-…..fine, whatever”, you sigh and put down your phone, rolling your eyes in irritation, unsure of what will happen next when you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. You turn and find that it’s Irene, your coworker. Supposedly she’s the scary one but she’s been nothing but sweet to you so you have always chalked it down to her just being more prompt and serious than the rest.

“I, ahem, I did the….”, Irene begins but trails off when you take the sheets of paper from her, your hands lingering on hers for a second. You smile at her and you could have sworn she blushed. “……I couldn’t help it but I overheard you on the phone…”, she says hesitantly.

“Ugh..yea..my ex…it’s just a mess”, you start, “and yeah I know I can just block or her not answer or whatever but like…I think she won’t let up as long as she thinks she can win me back…”

Irene listened to you, a concerned look on her face, a slight frown forming on her face before her expression softened again. “Y/n….maybe…”, she hesitates, you see her cheeks flushing, “you should tell her you are seeing someone else…or something”, she quickly added at the end.

You sigh, “I wish it was that easy, she’ll keep on pressing me even then, who is it, how do they look, why them etc etc. Thanks for the suggestion though”.

Irene stayed quiet, a bit stumped. That’s when you hear a shout, “Y/N there you are!”. And you see your ex walk up and you sigh. This was not going to be pretty….

She walks right up to you and you can’t deny it, she does look really pretty, “Y/n…”, she smiles, “look I’m sorry for being so pushy lately…but I really think we are making a mistake. Like it’s been a little while now and it’s been difficult for me and you said it’s been hard for you too so why don’t we just make out-up, oops”, she giggled.

Irene couldn’t believe what she was hearing, no way Y/N would fall for this trap right? Like it was so blatantly obvious.

You stayed silent…yes she was not completely wrong, you had been feeling a bit lonely lately and you did miss intimacy but you had been focusing on your job lately and that made it much easier, like for some reason you didn’t feel like working was such a burden anymore. But did you really want to start over once again?

As you considered your options, your ex took a step closer, smiling, her hands reaching for your cheek.

That’s when Irene suddenly stood up, a determined expression on her face as she got in between you two. “Stop. And leave. She doesn’t want you. How many times does she have to tell you before you understand huh?”, she says calmly but also coldly.

Your ex seems taken aback for a moment before she chuckles, “Who even are yo-”

“I’m her girlfriend.”, Irene says defiantly.

Now your ex looks stunned. She gives Irene a once over, a frown forming on her face and she faces you back again, “Y/N? What is she….”

You look at Irene and then your ex and make up your mind, “Yea, it’s true….”.

“You both are lying, there’s no way, I don’t believe-”, she begins again but is cut off.

“Believe what you want but that’s the truth. And none of your business anymore anyway so just go away”, Irene snaps.

Dumbstruck, your ex just stares at Irene who grabs your hand takes you back to your desk, as soon she’s out of sight, you notice Irene is completely red faced and she lets go of your hand slowly, reluctantly…and then glances at you, unsure of what of say when you hug her, “Thanks for that, you shouldn’t have…now she’ll be after you too…”

“I don’t think I should worry about that too much”, Irene replies, seemingly unbothered.

“No…I mean like…I’m pretty sure she’s gonna be at the parking lot when you leave, watching us to see whether we were lying or not…”, you sigh.

“Oh”, Irene says quietly as she realizes what you mean, “I…I guess maybe we just…just pretend abitlongerthenright?”

“Huh…oh..oh!”, you are a bit surprised Irene is still willing to continue with this facade, “S-sure…I guess that works…maybe it’ll put her off for good? But…what do we do?”

“……maybe….you come with me…you know instead of taking the bus…just pretend I’m dropping you home or something?”, Irene says quietly.

You consider it for moment before nodding in agreement and that was the plan.

Hours later as you get in the passenger seat of Irene’s car, you notice through the side mirror that a familiar car was in the distance, observing. You sigh and point it out to Irene who says nothing and begins to drive in silence.

A couple minutes in, you notice that your ex is still following and you once again tell Irene who suggests maybe you both go to her house for a bit so the ex doesn’t bother you and has no choice but to believe you both are dating.

20 minutes later, you are sitting awkwardly in Irene’s living room while she gets some snacks. You both eat a few biscuits and then Irene suddenly becomes really quiet, she looks at you and takes a deep breath, “Y/N…..I have something to tell you…”

You look at her, perplexed and tilt your head, “what is it?”, however as you say it, you suddenly become very conscious of her hand on top of yours, the way she is looking at you right now, how you yourself look at the moment and why suddenly it feels like there’s so much tension between you both.

She hesitates…and hesitates again and then looks away, moving her hand and shifting away looking frustrated, “Nevermind…it’s nothing…my bad”.

“Huh”, you feel surprised and a bit hurt that it seems like Irene isn’t completely comfortable around you, “Come on, just say it, you’ve already said you are my girlfriend”, you say smiling and nudge her, “What could be-”, you falter when you see Irene look back up at you, nervously biting her lip and then suddenly putting both her arms on your shoulders, pushing you back a little and she starts to lean in, as if you kiss you.

Not knowing what to do you just shut your eyes and a moment later you felt her lips on yours. She kissed you and kissed you again and this time you kissed her back and before you even realized you both had begun to make out. A minute later Irene finally pulled back, both of you red faced and breathless, panting, looking at the other.

Irene clenched her fists and suddenly blurted out, “I meant it when I said I want to be your girlfriend”.

You slowly blinked, “what…..”

She sighs in frustration, looking away, blushing, “don’t make me say it again…..”

Unbelievable, was Irene really saying she liked you? What! Did she always like you? Is that why it always seemed she was nicer to you? Did you like her too? You didn’t think so but…at the same time why did it feel so good when she kissed you, why did your heart pound when she said she was your girlfriend….why couldn’t you take your eyes off her when she drove you here…..did….did you like her too? Maybe…enough atleast to be willing to give it a shot with her.

You look at her and she doesn’t meet your eyes but you feel her tense up, waiting for your reply and then this time, you kiss her. Irene gasps but then leans into it, melting into your arms. She then caresses your cheek and begins to take off her jacket, “Y/N…..I want you”

Even though that makes you want you bury your face and squeal, you manage to stay somewhat calm, smirking at her, “what are you waiting for then?”, you say moving back and leaning against the sofa.

As Irene gets on top of you, her eyes full of desire, suddenly your phone starts ringing loudly completely ruining the mood…you both sigh and you pick up….

“Hello….oh it’s you…what now, honestly you are just being really annoying now”, you say, annoyed now that your ex is still calling you. “No, I don-ah!”, you cover your mouth as you almost moaned because Irene just began to kiss your neck. You try to give her a look to stop but shakes her head, “keep talking”, she says smugly while continuing to kiss your neck while her hands begin to undress you.

A few minutes later, you were shivering, almost completely naked, your neck and shoulders full of hickeys and your ex almost crying on the phone as she cuts the call, realizing what was happening.

You take a deep breath and toss your phone away, ready to jump at Irene but she beats you to it, getting on top of you, her hand clamping your mouth shut, “you were so bad right now, couldn’t even be quiet while on the phone…that can’t happen, so I’m going to test you now”, she whispered as her hands began to sink lower and lower, “if you stay quiet….I’ll let you off or else you are going to be edged again and again until I get what I want from you ok?”…….

[reverie-starlight]

it's about time I wrote something for owl head. @luvring I blame you for launching me right back into my bokuto era. not sure how I feel about my characterization of him yet, but it's a work in progress. considering it's my first time writing him, I don't think it's too horrible!!

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. established relationship, fluff fluff fluff, he is such a baby omg. I just want to see him happy, he's so sunshiney and warm. slight, miniscule, microscopic suggestiveness in one part.

early mornings can get a bit hectic when your boyfriend spends the night.

they used to be worse, you will admit, but even if you've both established somewhat of a morning routine, actually putting the plan into motion always proves to be a difficult task.

hopefully things settle after he moves in, you think.

you take a few moments to bask in the early morning silence that follows the swift movements of shutting off of your alarm (it's far too cold out for birds to chirp outside your window, and your apartment's not too close to any busy streets) and admire the sweet man beside you. ever the deep sleeper, bokuto's snores pop you out of your bubble.

you check the time again and feel your face form an expression of pure disdain when it registers that you have less time to get ready than usual. you turn to the side.

he's facing away from you- an oddity, considering he usually has one hand on you at all times- broad back on display, expanding and deflating with every breath he takes.

it almost feels wrong to disrupt him, but you know he has to get up for practice soon anyway, so you attempt a softer wake up method.

you put out your hand and trace patterns over his skin. it's warm and soft and makes you want to cuddle up melt into him for the rest of time. knowing him, he wouldn't mind that one bit.

he barely stirs at the feeling of your fingertips, so you do get closer this time and press light kisses against his shoulder blade.

the back of his bicep.

the centre of his back.

a few along his spine.

the spot just behind his heart.

you watch as goosebumps follow your trail of kisses and smile as he shuffles and finally turns to face you.

"good morning, baby..." he yawns and gives you a sleepy, closed-eye smile.

it breaks your heart that you're going to have to cut this moment short, but it has to be done. you're already cutting it too close for comfort (last night's activities had forced you to set a later alarm). any longer in bed and you'd both be late for work.

you card a hand through his hair and match his expression. "good morning, koutarou. it's time to get up." you keep your voice low and sweet, hoping to keep him sleepy enough to just go along with whatever you say.

but it seems that fate is not on your side this morning.

he opens one eye just a crack and begins to nod before freezing and promptly burying his face into your chest. he wraps his arms around your torso, making you you groan a little. "I need to make up for not holding you while I was sleeping."

while the sentiment is sweet, you would think that him getting ready to move in with you would make up for it. but apparently not even the prospect of spending every night from now on in your arms is enough to satisfy him.

"ko, please," you huff and try to pry his arm off. you really don't want to be late for work. things have been picking up lately and you definitely don't want to be chewed out by your boss for poor time management.

but bokuto does not waver. he may be a big baby sometimes, and he may do everything in his power to make you happy, but he is also incredibly determined and annoyingly stubborn.

especially when it comes to sleep.

so he just holds you tighter, mumbling out little apologies for not keeping you warm during the night. you giggle at that, because you are nothing if not warm whenever he's around. his presence is akin to summer's sunshine- so genial and bright that you can feel his love even without the physical gestures he always insists upon.

you stroke his back and just as you're about to give in to him, a small, smug smile appears on his face.

"bokuto koutarou!" you gasp "you know exactly what you're doing, don't you?"

he laughs into your chest and you can feel it reverberate throughout your body. "just stay with me a bit longer, when was the last time you took a sick day, anyway?"

his voice is littered with drowsiness and it only makes you want to give into him even more.

how is it that you've always seen yourself as the clingy one in the relationship? the thought makes you laugh a bit and he looks up at you hopefully.

but sadly, one of you needs to have some self discipline, so you cup his face in your hands and squish his cheeks together. "nice try, lover boy, but you promised me you'd get up on time."

he pouts and you try not to crack a smile at how funny it looks with a squished face. "but baby-"

"nope! you brought this on yourself, ko. besides," you do let your smile break through this time. "you're the one who insisted on setting a later alarm." you poke his nose to punctuate your sentence.

"you're the one who insisted we'd have more than enough time to get ready." poke.

"and you're the one who kept begging to go round after round despite me telling you this would happen," poke.

you squeal a bit when he suddenly gets up to hover over you, a mischievous, almost predatory look in his eyes that can only mean no good. “sorry- who was the one begging, baby?”

he digs his fingers into your side, causing you to giggle and squirm underneath him. his other arm holds him up and cages you in just enough that you're unable to roll away to safety.

the thing with bokuto is that he can be incredibly playful and child-like, yes; but like most people on earth, he also has moments that remind you he's much more dynamic than the endearing traits he most often presents.

you'd consider yourself lucky to be one of the few to see every side of him, but as you lay underneath him with a giddy feeling in your stomach from how handsome he looks while tormenting you, you only feel your self-discipline melting away.

he might be rebranding himself as an "ordinary" ace now (much to the surprise of everyone who knew him in high school), but you've been convinced for years that there's nothing ordinary about him at all. his determination, skill and unconditional love for you proved your theory every day.

fine, maybe one "sick" day wouldn't hurt.

"okay, okay!" you gasp out through your laughter. "we can stay in bed if you stop tickling me!"

his smile is positively blinding as he retracts his hand from your side and flops back on top of you. "thank you, babe. can I tell you a secret?"

you raise an eyebrow and he takes that as signal to continue. he "lowers" his voice to a whisper-yell and says "I don't actually have practice today."

you blink at him. "ko, what?"

he lets out an excited laugh. "I tricked you. I came up with this whole plan to keep you home with me today and it worked."

the unmistakable pride in his voice washes away any annoyance building up within you and opens you up to hearing him out. "explain."

"you've been working so much lately, I can see how much it's wearing you out," he rolls onto his side to face you better and cup your face with one hand. "and last night practice got cancelled super suddenly 'cause coach got sick or something. so I decided we should both have the day off since we both work super hard. also... I didn't want to be lonely," he mumbles at the end.

you snort at his honesty and shake your head in appreciation. that's why he was being so insistent? how did you manage to land someone as unabashedly sweet and caring as him? you started the day worrying about being late, and now work is the last thing on your mind. you grab your phone off the night stand and quickly leave your boss a message, letting her know you won't be coming in because of some sudden illness.

bokuto watches you closely and allows you to cuddle into him with a smile after setting the device back down. "so... does this mean my master plan worked?"

you nodded into his bare chest and let the stress you've been storing for weeks release alongside a deep sigh. "can't leave my sweet boy feeling lonely, now can I?"

you say it as a joke, but you hope he hears the appreciation in your voice... that he can feel how thankful you are for him looking out for you.

it all remains unsaid for a while longer, but you know he understands the underlying message when he kisses your forehead and prompts you to get more sleep.

BONUS:

you wake up again a couple hours later to a strange burning smell.

you're up immediately, not registering the fact that your boyfriend is not beside you anymore until you stumble into the kitchen and see him standing at the stove, stirring away.

the domestic view makes you excited for all of your mornings going forward looking like this, but you also make a mental note to buy a new set of pans before that happens.

he must feel you watching him, because he turns to greet you with a wide grin. "mornin', baby!"

"morning..." you make your way to the table and take a seat where there's already a glass of water. "are you making breakfast?" you try to keep your nerves out of your voice. he's not the worst cook in the world, and he's definitely improved since meeting you, but... he's still working on lunch recipes. he hasn't graduated to complicated breakfast foods yet.

he nods excitedly. "yup! I already had some cereal, though. I was gonna surprise you with breakfast in bed, but since you're up we can sit at the table." bokuto turns the stove off and scrapes... whatever it is evenly onto a plate. "it's a bit burnt, but it should still be good!"

he sets it down in front of you and the burning smell only gets stronger. you can see now that he had attempted pancakes. you smile up at him thankfully, but you wonder how you're going to get the round discs down without creating an unnatural chemical reaction within your stomach.

"I know it's been a while since we've had a proper breakfast together like this, and you mentioned a while ago that you've been craving pancakes, so I thought today would be the perfect day for that."

you can almost feel your pupils dilate when he says that. your heart beats faster and you feel warm all over (again). he remembered something like that? you don't even remember saying it, which leads you to believe that he's been storing it in his mind for a while now.

you scarf down the pancakes.

they're not good by any means, but you know they were made with love and that makes them the best damn pancakes you've ever tasted. you'd rather endure a the worst stomach ache imaginable than make this man sad.

his eyes widen. "woah! you must've been really hungry, do you want me to make you more? as many as you want, just give me a number!"

you tear up a bit, from affection for him or a reaction to the pancakes, you're not sure. "no, baby, these were perfect. do you want some coffee?"

he nods his head. "I wouldn't mind one if you're offering."

you kiss his cheek and move over to the coffee machine, still overflowing with love, but the taste of the charred breakfast lingers on your tongue. as you're grabbing a mug, you casually ask "hey baby? would you ever want to take a cooking class with me?"

I lowkey hate how it turned out, but not enough to keep it in the drafts. hope you enjoyed!!

[navybrat817]

Preliminary

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You give Andy a call, but may have more questions than answers. Word Count: Over 1.3k Warnings: No major warnings. Reader is broke (is that a warning?), Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Follow up to Keep the Change and building this world! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly, divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics, and warning banner by the wonderful @sgt-seabass. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are welcome!

You weren’t sure how you made it through the rest of your shift when all you wanted to do was call Andy. It was late by the time you got home and refused to disturb him at that time. You couldn’t sleep though. Not when your mind raced with the possibilities of what the potential job could be.

Maybe he needs a personal assistant. Could I handle someone that handsome being my boss?

Researching Andy on the internet didn’t calm your thoughts. From what you gathered, he had practiced law before he invested in a friend’s real estate company. When that took off, he invested in additional real estate and a range of various businesses and companies. He did well for himself, but you refused to look at his speculated net worth.

It’s not like he’s going to hand any of his cash directly over to me.

Andy was also single. At least, he wasn't married anymore. A quiet divorce before he made his money. You could only imagine how difficult it had to be for him to date. How many people wanted his money and nothing more?

A man as handsome as him, you couldn't picture him sleeping alone. Was it wrong that your gaze lingered on a few photos of him in his suits? Was his beard as soft as it looked?

You decided to call him the next morning. Normally you would have had your first cup of coffee consumed by then, but you didn’t want to be jittery on the call. Your fingers drummed nervously on the counter anyway as you waited for him to answer. Maybe it was too early. Or maybe he was like you and needed caffeine before he conversed with others.

“This is Andy,” the deep voice rang through the phone once he picked up.

“Hi,” your voice cracked. Cringing, you pulled the phone away to clear your throat. “Sorry about that.”

“Hi, honey. Don’t be sorry. I was expecting your call,” his voice softened, a bashful smile forming on your face when he recognized your voice.

A smile that quickly shifted to a yawn.

This call is off to a wonderful start.

“You didn't just wake up, did you?” he asked. "Did you sleep okay?"

“I'm fine. I just haven’t had my caffeine yet,” you tried to joke.

“I know that feeling,” he chuckled. “I hope it wasn't rude of me to ask. I just want to make sure you’re getting enough rest.”

“So you overtip when someone stiffs me, you want to make sure I’m sleeping enough, and you have a possible job for me?” you asked.

You didn’t want to sound suspicious since he was nothing but kind to you. The question is why he’s so nice. You weren’t naive enough to ignore that he was somewhat of a powerful man. Probably liked being in control. Money could get people like him far. You, on the other hand, didn’t have any. Power, money, anything.

You didn’t want to be a charity case.

“You don’t trust my intentions,” he mused.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought of how to respond. Saying the wrong thing could cost you whatever he had to offer. On the other hand, transparency might be the best option.

“I want to trust your intentions. It’s just that most people today don’t display kindness without expecting something in return,” you said carefully, keeping the device at your ear as you grabbed a coffee mug out of the cupboard. “I don’t want to lump you in that category and I hope it doesn’t sound like I am. I think part of me is waiting for the other shoe to drop because my luck hasn’t been so great. I guess I’m being cautiously optimistic.”

Andy hummed on the other end of the line, but didn’t say anything.

You closed your eyes, an apology on the tip of your tongue as your stomach sank. Why did you have to say what you did? It didn't matter. Beneath the nerves, you were proud of yourself for answering truthfully.

Though at this point, you waited for Andy to tell you to get rid of his card and not call again.

Would it be a blessing if he stopped coming into the diner so you could save face, or a curse that you pissed off a great customer and might never see him again?

"I appreciate your honesty."

You opened your eyes and pulled the phone away for a second to look at it. Surely you misheard him. "You do?"

"Yes, I do. You wouldn't believe how many people tell me what they think I want to hear instead of the truth. Maybe they do it to spare my feelings or avoid confrontation, but it's a hindrance more than anything."

"So you prefer honesty?" you asked. "Even if it's something you don't want to hear?"

"One thing you'll learn about me is that I value honesty," he said.

You wondered how many other things you'd learn.

"An ex-lawyer who likes to hear the truth."

"You did your research on me," he said.

"I may have a little," you admitted, your cheeks hot when he chuckled again.

I can't think a laugh sounds sexy if I work for him.

"Research is a good thing. I would expect anyone to do so before switching jobs."

"Speaking of that," you began, eager to shift the conversation to work and not about looking him up on the internet. "You still haven't told me what this job is all about. I'm not even sure which business it's for."

"Do you have your resume ready?" he asked.

Why isn't he answering my question?

"I do," you answered, glancing at your printer where your recent copy was sitting. "Though I can't exactly tailor it to the specific job if I don't know what it is, Mr. Barber."

"Call me Andy," he said. It was more a command than a suggestion, but somehow made you feel at ease. "I'd prefer to discuss the details in person."

You took a chance by calling, now you could take it a step further and meet him.

"And where would you like to discuss the details, Andy?"

"Are you free for lunch today? We can meet at The Courthouse at 12pm."

The Courthouse was one of the nicest restaurants in the city. The tip Andy left you the night before could maybe cover the price of an entree. Thankfully you still had a couple of decent outfits from when you had an office job.

"I'm free," you said. Luckily you had the day off. "I didn't know they were open for lunch."

"They usually open at 4pm, but they make exceptions."

What's it like to have that kind of sway over anyone?

"I don't want to go to the trouble of doing that."

"I already did," he said confidently. "I told you I was expecting your call."

"What if I had to work today?" you asked.

"I would have had to find a way to convince you to call in. And if I have my way, you'll be quitting there very soon."

"That's if I accept the job," you said, smiling as you leaned your hip against the counter. "But I'll be happy to discuss the details over lunch."

"I can send a car to pick you up," he offered.

"I'll take a cab, but thank you."

A car was too much for a job discussion and you didn't want his driver to see where you lived.

"I'll cover the cost of the cab and lunch," he said, leaving you no room to protest. "I look forward to seeing you."

You tapped a fingertip against your mug when he hung up. His businesses looked legitimate, so you didn't believe he would ask you to do something illegal. He also didn't seem like the type to waste his time and play games.

You had nothing to lose.

Here's to being cautiously optimistic.

Are we excited to meet Andy for lunch? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[teecupangel]

Hi teecup, I hope ur having a great day/noon/night!

Forgive me if the things i'm about to say don't make much sense. It's been a vey, very, very, difficult time for me and my countrymen here, and my ability to make coherent sentences have declined drastically. So, yeah... BUT! That doesn't matter haha.

Anyways, I had a thought. And i'm not even sure how or why i got it but.... hear me out now...

Our boy, Desmond, gets thrown back in time as usual, same old same old, right? Exept, this time he doesn't end up in the Big Three™'s time-line. He ends up in Al-Mualim's time. *insert mind-blown emoji here cuz i can't find it rn*

And ik that i'm not a certified AC Expert like u and many others, and i haven't really finished any of the AC games yet (i've only seen bits of AC III and have only started AC 2, I also haven't finished AC 1)

But I do know that he wasn't really that creepy and evil in his youth/ b4 he became The Old Man of the Moutain, so i was thinking maybe Desmond ends up in that era of Al Mualim or is it Rashid al-Din Sinan? I know that he's based on a real historical figure but i'm not so sure if he's called that in-game?

And knowing Desmond, he'd probably get the urge to kill Rashid (i hope i'm using the name correctly) the time he figures shit out and connect that dots. But he would end up not doing that, cuz u know, it might fuck up the time-line and Altaïr might end up not being born, creating a domino-effect.

I want Desmond to meet Rashid before he starts to becom the Al Mualim we know today, so that Desmond can see how he was b4 the evants of AC 1.

Maybe Rashid's an arrogant ass, or a nerdy loser, or a popular assassin- who knows! The possibilites are endless!! (or maybe he's an obsessive bastard who gets obsessed with Desmond cuz he's just full of mysteries and wonders :Dc )

And blah blah blah, plot here, plot there, Isu-bullshit this, time shenanigans that, and BOOM they meet.

And romance ensues? :3 (romace wil absolutely ensue :}}} )

NOW, BEFORE- BEFORE YOU TIE ME TO A STAKE AND BURN ME ALIVE FOR THIS- i think it'd be a cute idea, and who knows? maybe Rashid was hot in his prime *insert lenny face cuz even after all these years i still don't know how to type it and is too lazy to cop paste it* and maybe he liked to solve mysteries and had a thing for the unexplainable. And Desmond is the most unexplainable, most bizarre thing to have graced the earth :33333.

Now that i've got this idea out of my system i'm gonna go pray for the down fall of my coutry's shit for brain, good for nothing military government/hj.

bye! *evaporates*

I hope you’re doing alright and I’m sorry that it took two months before I could answer your ask TTATT

As far as I know, he was only called Al Mualim because of legal reasons but Rashid ad-Din Sinan was the leader of the Assassins in Masyaf during 1191 so it’s safe to assume Al Mualim is AC’s version of Rashid (historically he died in 1193, not 1191.

.

Okay. We can make this work.

We put Desmond at around the same time he’s the recruit and we make it hard for him to realize he’s Al Mualim until it’s too late by doing one simple thing:

Desmond doesn’t know Al Mualim’s real name.

He always knew it as Al Mualim. As far as he knew, Al Mualim was his actual name.

Then he remembered that Al Mualim can mean mentor and bangs his head on the nearest flat surface.

His mission has been clear from the start.

Become an Assassin, take out Al Mualim before he does shit, find Umar and adopt him then play matchmaker so Altaïr would be born.

And no.

Desmond wasn’t going to think about the whole “can you truly be sure that the person who will be born will be Altaïr if you change the circumstances of his conception?”

Yeah.

His head hurts just thinking about it so he won’t.

For now, he’ll focus on his training while keeping a look out for anyone who gives of Al Mualim vibes.

What’s the Al Mualim vibes?

Manipulative old man vibes.

The problem is…

Rashid is one of the recruits in the same batch as Desmond and he becomes Desmond’s closest friend.

And there was no way Desmond would ever be friends with a future power hungry asshole like Al Mualim.

No way.

.

The way their relationship becomes romantic really depends on the kind of personality young Rashid would have.

A nerdy loser who starts making a name for himself because of his intelligence and tactical mind would start off as the kid Desmond sorta looks after. When he starts to show that his strength lies in making plans and quick judgments, he becomes the man whispering on Desmond’s ear. Providing plans and suggestions while giving Desmond a heads up on the less savory words people say about him. Desmond would never think this Rashid is Al Mualim because he’s nice and truly do want to help Desmond. This is also how Rashid would show his love for Desmond and, really, Desmond would think they’re bros and when he realizes that Rashid actually loves him, he’d think “oh, I am Ezio’s descendant”

An arrogant ass Rashid would butt heads with Desmond but Desmond would find himself fond of the man because he reminds him of AC1 Altaïr. This is the Rashid who would definitely be counted as a tsundere and their relationship would start when Rashid just flatout tells Desmond that he wants to do unspeakable things to him while they’re arguing. Desmond is offended because “tugging on my pigtails doesn’t work in real life, dumbass!” and Rashid is just “???” because what the fuck are pigtails??? Lots of awkwardness until Desmond realize that butting heads with Rashid is really how they flirt.

Now. Popular Assassin Rashid is more on the side of polite but is absolutely Desmond’s rival. Whatever it is, the two of them are always competing. Unlike the arrogant ass version, this Rashid is always nice to Desmond. The whole “no hard feelings” and pure competitiveness are what drives their relationship. This is the one where the two of them spar privately one time and things happen. They would try to distant themselves from one another for a bit until they finally talk it out. Rashid honestly didn’t think he loved Desmond until the whole ‘after-sparring’ thing.

Whichever you pick as Rashid’s background, he will become obsessed with Desmond but it’s more on the side of “I will do everything to make Desmond happy” which is good for Desmond but not really good for anyone against him.

.

Desmond is the one who adopts Umar in this one and Umar imprints on him like a baby duckling to a mama duckling. Everyone actually assumed Umar is his bastard son. Desmond ignores it even though he’s only like… a decade and a half older than Umar.

Rashid definitely treats him like Desmond’s son. He’s Umar’s favorite of all of Desmond’s friends.

And really, Desmond should have seen that as a hint of Rashid’s ‘future’.

Speaking of the future.

He’s been looking for Al Mualim this entire time and he has his suspects (Rashid, however, is not on the list) but honestly?

He’s just waiting for the person who would be picked as the one to lead the expansion to Masyaf since that would be Al Mualim.

Desmond has, unfortunately, fucked up the timeline so badly that the person chosen to lead the expansion?

It was Desmond.

.

Sidebar: Faheem would be that cute younger brother who turns grumpy when he grows up. Desmond will forever grieve the lost of little cute Faheem. Faheem is always embarrassed when Desmond talked about his ‘past’.

[okaylorrainee]

words never said

characters. lo’ak & female omatikaya reader.

genre. romance. angst

synopsis. arranged as a mated pair, lo’ak never focused on becoming a good husband for you and often pushed away your feelings for him. only when you’re dying in his arms did he realize what he was losing, but it was all too late.

contains. aged up characters (adults). ooc most likely. character death. unhappy marriage. the sullys never went to awa’atlu. the clan still lives in hometree.

note. counting this as my 180+ followers special ! hehe. i hope you guys learn something from this :p let me know your thoughts! (but don’t be mean i am weak)

also on ao3!

a shawl made of leaves wrapped around your form as you stood silently in the middle of your kelku, watching your mate frantically search for his battle gear. jake sully had called the warriors again for another raid against the sky people who were planning to take over yet another area in your clan. the raids have been happening quite frequently now, and being the son of the olo’eyktan himself, lo’ak, your mate, was expected to participate in all of them. 

you grew worried every moment he wasn’t here. you prayed to the great mother he’d come back to you in one piece, safe and sound, but you knew it wouldn’t always be possible. every time the war party came back, someone would be gravely injured. most of the time, a couple of them wouldn’t even return - their corpses lying cold on the battlefield.

thankfully, your husband was a great warrior. although he was reckless and often didn’t follow jake’s orders, he was witty enough to survive all the hits and attacks of the humans, and also, your brother-in-law, neteyam, would always be there to keep him in check. not once did lo’ak return with a fatal injury, but still, you couldn’t help but worry.

in front of you, lo’ak grunted, securing his battle band around his waist. he grabbed his hunting knife from the ground and wiped away litters of dust the blade caught from lying on the floor. his brows formed wrinkles on his face as he frowned, and you didn’t really know why he was upset again right now.

“please be careful, ma’yawntutsyip.” you uttered softly, but he didn't reply nor look at you. even if it was usual for him to do this, it still hurt you. you tried not to mull over it too much.

still ignoring you, lo’ak turned his back on you as he moved to exit. he was leaving again to battle without saying anything, while you were here, dying with concern over his safety. it pained you so much how it seemed like he didn’t care about you every second of every day since you were mated. but you still loved him anyway. he was your mate, your husband, your second half.

before he could completely leave you, you took the chance to say, “i love you, lo’ak.” something you never failed to tell him every day, just to remind him that you were here, that he had you to come back home to. “please, will you say it back just this once?” it took every bit of your strength to plead to him, you just wanted to hear him say it.

your words made him stop in his tracks. he turned his head to the side to spare you a glance, and you tried to fight his cold eyes. you saw how he clenched his jaw as if he was going to say something, but he sighed and turned away before he could. saying nothing else, he marched out of your kelku.

you felt your whole body relax as soon as he left, you didn’t even notice how tense you were while he was here. still standing in the same spot, you looked around your kelku. some stuff were disordered from how much lo’ak moved them around while he was searching. when the air entered from the opening of your kelku and touched your skin, the heaviness of your heart became difficult to ignore, and you simply inhaled deeply to try to calm yourself down.

tears started welling in your eyes and your lips quivered. you were upset. so so upset at how cold and lonely you felt in your own home right now, so upset that you have to clean up all of these cluttered things as if you were once again fixing up the mess that was your union with lo’ak. 

you tried to keep your sobs quiet as you knelt to pick up the things your husband didn’t bother to put back properly. it was always like this with him. while he never yelled at you nor physically hurt you, lo’ak also was never affectionate to you. it was like he wasn’t even your mate. it was like he was just living with you in the same home, sleeping in the same mat and hammock. it was like he never acknowledged you as a lover with how cold he was towards your advances.

you envied the other couples who would profess their love, kiss and hug, and reassure each other every time the other went to battle. why couldn’t lo’ak just love you, try to, or even pretend to?

from what you knew, to him, you were just someone his parents tied to him for life in order to keep him ‘in place’, to show the people that he is a desirable son and son-in-law like his older brother, to make the people know lo’ak is capable of finding a mate and providing for her and for a future family. 

and you understood how he felt and why he was like this to you. you convinced yourself really hard to. every night when you lay beside him whilst he slept soundly next to you, you were crying to yourself, trying to understand that he was still just busy proving himself to his father, proving himself to the people that he could catch up to his older brother, proving to everyone that he wasn’t just some rash failure. you understood why he couldn’t focus on you, even if you were his wife.

as a husband, lo’ak never fulfilled his marriage duties. he only mated with you once and never again, and that was during the ceremony in front of eywa. many of your heat cycles have passed but he never touched you no matter what you did. you often wondered if it was because he had his eyes on someone else. but you’ve confirmed long ago that lo’ak never flirted with the other women in the clan. he was simply too busy with the war and with proving himself, but you loved him all the same because you supported your husband, you only hoped he’d love you back one day. 

hours have passed since he left. while he was gone, you decided to stock up on some fruit by yourself. you could’ve joined the other women who were also waiting for their mates, but you wanted to be alone so you could think and calm down. you were solemn the entire time, even as you returned back home with your basket full of his favorite fruit.

at the moment, you were sitting quietly in the middle of your kelku, weaving a new mat for lo’ak so he could rest in a clean one once he got home. but the silence didn’t last long when it was interrupted by the stomping feet and crying of a child running to your home. all at once, you dropped everything and hurried to the child’s side, gently taking her into your arms.

you cupped her face and looked at her with eyes full of worry, “what is the matter, ‘evi? why are you crying?”

the little girl continued to sob in your arms. “my brother, please. the tawtute.” her sentence was incomplete, and she was crying uncontrollably but the words ‘brother’ and ‘tawtute’ were all you needed to hear to understand what was going on - the sky people were near, and her brother was in danger.

your breath hitched but you tried not to panic. what were you going to do now? you were not a warrior. you were just a common clan member whose role is to weave clothing and collect fruit for the people. but you knew how to shoot an arrow as it was required to come-of-age, and you knew it was enough to at least help and stand up for this little child and her brother. she came to you because your kelku was the nearest, and there was no time to look for someone else. as an adult of your clan, it is your duty to protect them.

with a deep breath, you pulled away from her and quickly took the old bow and arrow sitting next to your shared mat with lo’ak. gripping its handle tightly, you said, “take me to him.” 

the little girl wasted no time in dragging you with her deeper into the forest. you weren’t sure where she was leading you. every step you took made you grow more anxious about what you were going to face. 

soon enough, you heard the sound of running water nearby, and you understood that a waterfall was just here somewhere. the little girl suddenly stopped running in front of you, and she tugged your arms, giving you a look to tell you that you were here. 

you heard the voices of male humans chattering in the vicinity, talking about ‘dna’ and ‘new avatar’ in their language. you couldn’t understand what they were saying and only those three words gave you the gist of what they were talking about. even if your husband was quite fluent in the language of those demons, you still didn’t understand. lo’ak never taught you after all. but all that matters right now is getting her brother back, you could worry about the rest later on.

you bent your knees slightly to meet the child’s eyes. placing your palm on her head, you whispered. “go hide. i will take care of everything.”

still with tears in her eyes, she nodded at you before running back to one of the trees behind you.

you took a deep breath before stealthily approaching the voices. your steps were gentle as you crouched, the crunch of the leaves you stepped on was non-existent as you made your way closer. as soon as the soldiers came into view, you took a while to observe the situation. the na’vi boy was tied up, back faced to you, and two humans were in front of him, armed with large guns scouting the area. 

you quietly moved and hid yourself behind the tree that was next to you. with your back pressed on its trunk, you took your arrow and started positioning your bow. you can do this, you can do this. you encouraged yourself in your head. there are only two of them. to you, the humans themselves weren’t scary, they were a lot smaller than you after all. just one harsh slap and you could make them fly away. it was their weapons that concerned you, you didn’t understand how they worked.

you held your breath as you stepped away from the tree, arms raised whilst you aimed at the human. you planned to shoot them consecutively before they could react with their weapons, you knew you could do it. and so, without further hesitation, you released the arrow and allowed it to fly through the air, stabbing the human right on his head.

the man hadn’t even dropped to the ground when you took another arrow and stretched your bow to aim at the other one. again, you shot the man on his head, and you watched as both of their bodies collapsed on the ground with a thud.

you sprinted to the boy’s side, who began crying from relief the moment he saw you. when you knelt in front of him, you immediately started to untie him from the ropes, reassuring him that he was safe now and to not worry. as soon as the boy was free, he tackled you into a grateful hug, sobbing into your arms.

“mawey, mawey.” you patted his back, carefully pulling him away from you. “we need to go. more of them will come. go!”

he was nodding as he stumbled standing up. you gestured for him to run, and he obeyed, darting to the direction of hometree.

you stood up to trail behind him. but before you could even walk another step, a loud mechanical thud was heard from behind you. you grew cold, already aware of what that was. you spun around reluctantly and were met with a soldier in an amp suit aiming his firearm right at you.

what happened next was a blur. you didn’t have the time to grab your bow nor react, because when his weapon erupted a loud bang, it was already over for you.

–

the ikrans shrieked as they landed on the branches of hometree. the war party was surrounded by a crowd of family members, all looking for their warriors in worry and anticipation of their return. lo’ak, who was in between his father and older brother, dismounted his ikran as his eyes searched for a particular na’vi among the people. 

he puffed out a disappointed breath when he couldn’t find who he was looking for. were you mad at him because he didn’t say ‘i love you’ back earlier? this wasn’t new to your relationship, so what was different now? you never missed his arrival. were you finally getting tired of him?

lo’ak’s lips pursed as he followed behind jake through the horde that was their clan members. neteyam who was walking beside lo’ak, felt his younger brother’s sour mood but he decided not to mention it anymore. the entire day and weeks before having been stressful enough. with the raids going on and lo’ak constantly going to him for advice about his marriage, neteyam knew if he dared to bring it up, it would only make his brother appear more upset in front of you once he got home. 

as the three of them made their way through hometree, they came across a young na’vi boy wailing in the corner, circled by a few other adults who were trying to calm him down. jake didn’t hesitate to go near them.

“what’s going on here?” jake asked, his two sons standing with him on both sides.

the boy wiped his tears away, trying to meet the eyes of his olo’eyktan. “s-soldiers ambushed me.” he wanted to explain more, but his voice was shaking, and it was all he could say.

“where?” neteyam leaned forward to join the conversation.

“near the waterfall.” the boy sobbed. “i was able to escape because my sister called for help.”

“help? who helped you?” lo’ak asked.

everyone fell oddly silent from his question that it made jake and neteyam look around in confusion. lo’ak raised an eyebrow, waiting for the boy to answer. “well?” he urged him to reply.

the boy only hid himself in the arms of the na’vi who was comforting him, sobbing louder than earlier. what could he say to the husband of the person who saved him? when it was already clear to him what happened when a bang echoed through the forest?

the people looked at lo’ak with sympathy, and he stared at them one by one, trying to process and understand what their expressions meant. he grew cold every second when none of them uttered anything. what were they doing? why were they looking at him like this? like they were apologizing? 

lo’ak’s expression darkened. your absence, their apologetic looks. it couldn’t be, right?

he released a deep exhale as he straightened his back. lo’ak’s world stopped as realization struck him. suddenly, everything was silent. he couldn’t hear the child’s sobbing, the people talking around him, and neteyam calling his name from literally right beside him. all he could hear was a long high-pitched ring on his ear, and there was a string in front of him ready to snap any second.

his lips were parted as he breathed heavily, trying to calm himself whilst he turned and walked away from them without a word. jake was calling him but he ignored and continued to his ikran. you? you helped that boy? you weren’t a warrior. how could you fight? lo’ak’s jaw clenched as he thought about it.

neteyam hurried to lo’ak’s side, grabbing his arm to catch his brother’s attention. “bro, calm down.” 

lo’ak snapped his head at neteyam, eyes burning in anger. “calm down? how can i? my wife, my mate. she is in danger!” his voice raised, catching the attention of almost everyone around them. lo’ak harshly pulled his arm back from neteyam, and all the man could do was stand there dumbfounded.

jake nodded to neteyam with a knowing look as lo’ak mounted his ikran in front of everyone. the animal shrieked louder than ever, mirroring the burning anger of its rider. and as lo’ak commanded his companion to fly away, jake and neteyam ran to their ikrans and followed suit to fly to you.

lo’ak couldn’t think straight as he flew, and his ikran could feel it. his blood was cold, and he was shaking in worry. he was hoping, praying to the great mother silently in his head that he understood their looks wrong and it wasn’t you who he was going to find there. that you were just asleep in your home, tired from weaving, and that’s why you weren’t there earlier when he arrived. lo’ak was sweating, even as the cold air ran through his skin as he flew - he didn’t know what he would do if it was really you.

for the past few weeks, lo’ak had been visiting his older brother, asking him for advice on how to make things better for your relationship. neteyam was always the better one, and even lo’ak couldn’t disagree with that. lo’ak knew that he struggled with expressing his emotions and with controlling the relationship especially because it started out rough when he initially didn’t want to be with you. he was hoping his brother could help him sort his thoughts out, or at least, help him form better words to explain and plan out the slow change he wanted in your marriage.

lo’ak learned to love you as months with you went by. at first, he thought you were pretending to love him and that you were settling for him because he was used to the others mocking him for not being as great as his older brother. but lo’ak saw how genuine, kind, loving, and caring you were towards him - how could he not fall? 

lo’ak treated you harshly because he felt bad that you were tied to a failure like him. he wanted you to find someone better so you could be happier, because he was still in the process of finding himself. but lo’ak knew that deep down, he couldn’t really let you go. just thinking about you being with someone else irked him so much, he would rather be skinned alive than to live through a day seeing you with another man. and so, lo’ak built up his courage, and tried so hard to prove himself to everyone, so that one day, he could love you, and nobody else would be worthy enough for you than him. after all, you were his mate, his wife, his second half.

lo’ak, neteyam, and jake arrived by the waterfall just in time when a soldier in an amp suit was picking you up with its hands, motioning to walk away from the scene.

lo’ak’s eyes glowered at the sight, blood boiling as he became angrier. your limbs were swaying as the metal suit held you, and lo’ak knew you were unconscious. his ikran glided through the air at immense speed as he yelled from his throat, taking his bow out and aiming the arrow straight at the soldier inside the suit.

the amp suit collapses in an instant when the arrow stabbed through the human’s head. the sudden motion made the suit’s arm throw your body into the air, and you fell harshly on the ground with a cruel sound. 

lo’ak kept his eyes only on you when his ikran eventually landed, jake and neteyam right behind him. lo’ak practically jumped off of his ikran as he rushed to your side. from his rear, jake was in the background ordering neteyam to scout the area and look if other soldiers were around, but lo’ak ignored them and only focused on you.

lo’ak knelt beside you, grabbing your arm as he assessed your body. jake towered behind lo’ak, and he could only watch sadly for his son - he knew that from how you looked right now, you were already dead even before they arrived, but he couldn’t bring himself to point that out to his grieving son.

“no, no, no. please, please.” lo’ak shook his head, refusing to believe the state you were in right now - blood running from your mouth and everywhere else that was shot in your body. this was the first time you could’ve heard the concern in his voice for you, but you couldn’t.

lo’ak began tearing up at the sight of you, and he forced his tears away so he could assess your face better for any sign of life. “you’re not dead, you’re not dead.” he repeated to himself as if he was convincing himself. 

when you didn’t answer a word nor any movement, his grip tightened on your cold hand, and he yelled a cry. it was the first time jake saw his son cry that much. “please come back to me, baby, please!” he pleaded, hands moving to cup your cheeks. but your lifeless eyes only stared back at him. 

i love you, lo’ak. please, will you say it back just this once?

“i see you, i love you! i always have, please!” he wailed the words he never said, the words you have longed to hear. but it was too late, your arms were limp, and you weren’t responding; you couldn’t hear him anymore. your body was turning cold every minute that was passing; you were dead and no matter how much lo’ak pleaded and cried beside you, you weren’t going to come back. he knew this, but he was refusing to accept it.

jake could only watch as lo’ak started to yell out his cries. 

the regret of being too late, the regret of losing his other half forever, the regret of never giving you the love you deserved, the regret of never saying the words you deserved to hear - would eat lo’ak up for the rest of his life, because you died never knowing how much he loved you too.

©️ okaylorrainee 2023. please do not re-upload, translate my content anywhere without permission.

tell the people you love that you love them before it's too late!

[persage]

CARETAKER- S. HARRINGTON

Steve Harrington x Sick! Reader

Summary : When Steve hears that you're sick and you've gone to work anyway, he comes to pick you up, take you home and put his nursing skills to the test. He loves taking care of you, but sometimes you make it difficult

Words Count: 2.3k

Tags: Steve Harrington x Sick! Reader, just Fluff and Steve being the best nurse in the world and an overprotective boyfriend

Thanks again to @loving-and-dreaming for the amazing ideas!

For all the years Steve Harrington has known you - which are way too many to be honest- you've always been careless with your health. There's always something more important: homeworks and school projects first, monsters and fights then. Anyway being selfless is what you and Steve have in common, he understands you and he knows how to keep an eye on you without you noticing, cause you get mad everytime someone, and more specifically him, tries to take care of you.

"I don't need a babysitter Harrington, I am the babysitter."

So Steve has learned to understand the way your body react to pain and stress, when you close your eyes as you get up he knows your knee is giving you trouble and when you ask him to open something for you is because the arm you broke years ago in the Byers house, against the stupid demodog, still hurts when the weather changes. But you know Steve too and you care about him of course, he has been you neighbor since you have arrived in Hawkins, when you were just a child, he was just the spoiled kid from the biggest house in the city and now  he's your boyfriend and partner in crime. You bring him food when he says he's home alone cause you think he will let himself starve, not that he can't cook - to be fair he is really good at it- but he can be lazy sometimes and prefers stays on the chouch slowly dying. You always make sure he brings his jacket with him, cause his stupid brain won't understand the temperature outside can be very different from the one inside the house and he will get sick. Also you take him to the doctor, even against his will, everytime he gets hit on his head and stay with him the night to keep him awake when he has concussions. You're pretty good at this, making sure he always comes first. He is your priority and it infuriates him of course, 'cause Steve Harrington doesn't think he deserves any of this and you don't let him do the same for you. Which is why - against his own nature- he had became more observant in the first place.

But this time he misses it.

It's Max that tells him as she enters the Family Video holding hands with Lucas, cause they need a movie for their date night. "So uh, have you seen y/n this morning at all?" Something in the girl's voice makes him turn sharply and almost knocks over the pile of boxes he was tidying up. Almost, because Robin comes to avert disaster.

Truth is you've been working really hard lately, being a babysitter and also taking shifts at Enzo's during lunches and dinners you don't have time to really rest. Steve has been doing the same thing, working as much as he can so you can afford living together so no, he hasn't seen you this morning, he just left something to eat for breakfast outside your door before going to work.

"What's wrong with her? " He asks.

"Nothing's wrong!  She was just asking!" A not so calm Lucas replies. Max glares at him. "Lucas, just tell me what my stupid, stupid girlfriend has done this time."

"She hasn't done anything at all. It's that we saw her babysitting Holly Wheeler this morning and we noticed  she was coughing...a bit."  Max explains. Steve raises an eyebrow at that

"Okay, fine, a lot." Lucas confesses, this time Max nudges him. Steve shakes his head. "Stupid, stubborn foolish girl!" He mutters. Robin places a hand on his shoulder.

"You're overreacting dingus" But as if he hadn't even heard her, Steve continues. "Cover me Rob. I have to reach y/n and take her home, then I'll come back. I swear" He doesn't even wait for her answer. Steve runs away.

He finds you at Enzo ready for the lunch shift, trying to carry a big table on your own, face red from fatigue. He stops before he can call your nome and just observes you torturing yourself and gets to see you drop the table on the ground andlean on it, coughing violently. "Are going to kill yourself?" When you hears Steve's voice you turn around and the minute you see his face, you know you are in deep trouble. Sometimes he tend to get a little overprotective, treating you like one of his children.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" You aks, trying to see something different in his face than the judgmental expression of a mother ready to lecture you. He doesn't answer, simply approaches you and puts his hand on your forehead. You try to stifle another cough and shake him off, but end up leaning on your knees with your body shaking violently. Steve holds you, caressing your back gently. "Home! Now!" He orders, his tone sweet but still doesn't allow replies

"But I have to finish-"

"No you don't, I'll talk to Enzo. Now get in the car and turn on the heating." He takes you home quickly and even if you don't need it he carries you from the car to your own room, after making sure that no one is at home. "Where are your parents?"

"Dad has the long shift, he'll be back tonight. Mom's out of town" And so Steve calls Robin, to warn her that he won't be able to work the afternoon shift.

You feel your exhausted body sinking into the mattress, lighter than air, as your vision grows spotted. You feel sicker than ever, your head weighs as if you have stones inside and burns like hell but you feel cold, at the same time: fingers, legs, arms, torso, it's all frozen. You groan, rolling on your side and closing your eyes as you hear Steve's steps.

"Baby. I'm gonna die today. Remember I love you and my collection of VHS is yours" Steve smiles, sitting near you and putting a hand on your forehead.

"Oh love, how sweet of you" He replies,  "Why were you still working?" He asks with a slight tone of reproach. One of his hands slides up your neck and then your back, the other one brushes your hair away from your forehead, then lightly caresses one of your cheeks. He starts rubbing circles over your back and it feels like paradise. "We need money, you know my amazing boyfriend and I... we want to find a place of our own and he.. He is working so much, he is doing his best  for our future together. I want to do it too, if I could I'd even get three jobs. For him. For us. " You answer, smiling. Thank goodness you have your eyes closed and you're probably delirious with fever, otherwise you'd notice Steve's eyes watering and the little tear that escapes his control. Sometimes the way you love him  unconditionally, moves him. For someone who's not used to be anyone's priority, your love is overwhelming  and he doesn't know what he's done to deserve it. Steve's touches reminds you of your childhood, the way your dad used to take care of you, telling stories about monsters and children fighting the evil, but now these aren't just stories and kids aren't just kids and you don't like hearing stuff like that anymore. And your father doesn't take care of you like before, he doesn't do it out of malice, it's just his new job that takes him away from you for a long time and you know he is suffering too. You don't blame him, but you miss him. Luckily Steve is with you to ease the loneliness.

"Hang in there, love" Your boyfriend murmures softly in your ear, placing a kiss on your cheeks, continuing to rub your back tenderly. Hide behind his words you can feel his concern, he's overprotective as always. "You are burning up, I need you to take this baby" He passes you a pill and you shake your head The movement makes you nauseous and you don't want anything, you feel so tired and sore that you are afraid a single change around you could kill you. 

"Let me here to die" you grumble dramatically.

"Then who will take care of me when I'm sick?" Steve jokes, smiling at you sweetly. The sentence makes you think, you open your eyes and look at him worried.

"What's up?"

"You have to stay away from me" You say, your teeth chattering in the cold as he adjusts the blanket around you better. "I'm not kidding, you could get sick too"

"Dont worry about me love, You just need to rest. " He tells you and in your feverish delirioum you hold his hands and you let go, falling into a deep sleep.

When you wake up an hour and a half later, Steve is in the same position, holding a hand on your forehead and watching over you like your guardian angel. You would like to tell him he shouldn't be here with you, but the truth is the feeling of being cared for is foreign enough to make you crave it in a way you didn't know you could. You cough again your poor lungs out, trying to cover your mouth so as not to contaminate Steve, then sneeze repeatedly. He shakes his head, handing you a glass of water and supporting your back so you can drink comfortably. "And you thought you could work like this? You should be more attentive to your health." "Ohhh Still with this story? Don't be exaggerated, I'm not that bad. Also I was fine before you came at Enzo's" You reply stubbornly, raising an arm to push him away with a huff.

"You were already burning up and you wouldn't even think to come to me. I'm not a good boyfriend? You don't trust me as a nurse? I'm an excellent nurse, that's my job" He has a harsh tone, he wants you to understand that you really have to take care of yourself, today is a fever, tomorrow something else. Steve would like you to be your priority not only his. "Why do you have to be so dramatic! It's just a cold."  Your voice has a strange tone, it's hoarse from the cough, vaguely funny. Steve smiles. He can't be mad at you especially as you disappear into the blanket, curled up on yourself, like a child in need of care. And no matter how much you deny it, you need him and he wants to be there. "Come on Steve seriously maybe there's a chance I didn't pass you my lousy germs. Save yourself. Go away. Think about you my love"

"No way, I need to keep an eye on you."

"Steven Harold Harrington, You're acting like I'm five."

"Don't use my full name on me y/n, also You've been acting like you're five all day." Then after a minute of silence. "How long has this been going on?" He asks more seriously, as you peek out from under the covers to make eye contact with him. You are not even interested in the fact that you are not as beautiful as you would like, that you have dirty hair, swollen red shiny eyes and a pale skin, his steady gaze on you is so full of adoration and devotion that you do not believe it is humanly possible for some eyes express so much love without saying a single word, without moving a muscle, in just one simple glance.

"It was just a sore throat yesterday. I only started coughing this morning and then I was cold, shivering a lot, but I didn't... I didn't want to take my temperature. If you don't know, you don't have to stay home from work" Steve shakes his head and remembers the last few days, he should have been more careful because it's clear you're lying now and it's clear that when you said you were tired in the past few days, you weren't just tired.

"Don't lie to me, I'm not stupid. I mean yes I am, but not that much. You must've been feeling bad for at least a few days." You avoid his look "I hate it when you do this" He whispers lying next to you.

"I haven't done anything. You're just overreacting because you love me too much"

"Please y/nyou are the one who underestimates everything. And yes, I love you too much and I would like to grow old with you, but if you continue to behave like an unconscious foolish child you will make me die of a heart attack at thirty and you will break my dreams"

You laugh. "You're a Drama Queen"

"No you don't understand, today is just the fever and yesterday were demogorgons and tomorrow who knows? You always do it, not taking care of yourself, it scares me"

You hold his hand and after a moment of silence, with all the sincerity, you reply.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry" You are interrupted by a cough. "I've never seen it this way. I've never thought about the impact my actions can have on you. I'm so selfish. "

"No, you are the opposite of selfish. But you are right about one thing I love you too much. And now I'm going to get you some iboprufen to take down the fever." He gets out of bed and places a kiss on your forehead. "I need my girlfriend to be okay"

"I hate meds" You whine and moan.

"You are just a little girl"

"Thanks, my hero." But before he can leave the room you call him. "Steve" He turns around, smiles and you think that you don't want anything more than this for your whole life. Steve Harrington and you, your house, you dreams. The everyday life that becomes extraordinary next to the right person. "I'm sorry I said you were overreacting." You state.

"I love you too, y/n."

[helpolnix]

Anger and Ares.

Life has been kinda sorta shit lately. And while I’m used to that sort of thing, more than used to it actually, it feels like I’m just getting beat while I’m already down on the floor crawling with multiple broken bones.

But, I get up and keep it pushing anyway.

My relationship with extremely powerful emotions, namely anger, is difficult. I get angry, of course, but never a large amount. I feel irritation more than I do anger. But as of late, I just can’t seem to keep myself calm. Which is really difficult for me to grapple with since I associate anger with some really abusive and violent people in my life. I don’t really know how to express my anger, when I actually feel it.

I wouldn’t say I’ve felt necessarily drawn to Ares, but the connection was there anyway when I initially met him. Immediately, he had this energy to him that made me feel comfortable enough to joke around with him, let loose. Like a brotherly figure. Which was ironic to me considering my relationship with my actual brother was/is very violent and strained. It felt like that spot was filled almost instantly, in a way.

(Also why is he so tall… every time I see him I just make fun of his height because nobody needs to be that tall.)

So as I’ve met him in such a bad time, I didn’t really reach out often if at all, at first. I think I did it almost subconsciously after the first few times.

The first time, I think I just got lucky that he checked on me. I was feeling so many strong emotions that were just about to bubble over. You know the type of anger that makes you laugh? Yeah, it was that.

Just as I felt like I was about to blow, a sense of calm washed over me completely and immediately, bringing me down a few notches. Familiar with his energy, I realized it was Ares. I was a bit caught off guard, but I thanked him sincerely in my slightly jumbled state, and just filled him in on what had gotten me to that point.

And then it happened again…

And again..

And again.

Life isn’t fun sometimes.

But now, I think I have just started to pray and call him subconsciously, hoping he’ll pop in to help me calm myself. And he does, he always checks in.

It makes me a bit emotional to think about now while writing this, knowing I’ve never had a grounding force like that in my life. It’s something I can’t really describe to someone that wouldn’t know. But it’s amazing to have that type of support from a god.

So I guess since I’m so awkward with gratitude in person this will serve as my thank you note to him. I’ll eventually get around to a proper thank you, but I know he’ll find this funny and accept it. (For now.)

Thank you Ares, for putting up with me playfully insulting you every chance I get and for being there each time to bring me back down to earth.

[coldfanbou]

Breeding Bull

Here's the Sohee piece; sorry it's a bit late. So here we have the tale of a cheating wife trying to get pregnant through any means necessary. Well, you can probably figure that out when you read it. Anyway, there is cheating and breeding.

Length 1.8K

Sohee x Mreader

You wait at the door of your new neighbor's apartment. They had invited you over for a meal sometime after they moved in, and you found it difficult to refuse. The woman, Sohee, had kept pushing you to come over. She would only leave once you agreed. The door opens for you, and Sohee stands there with a giant grin plastered on her face. You try to seem happy about being there. "Hi, Sohee; nice to see you again."  She immediately takes your hand and pulls you inside.

"It’s nice to have you over. Follow me." Sohee leads you to the dining room, never letting you go. She turns to you, "I hope you'll like the meal. I've been working on it all day." As you reach the dining room, Sohee puts you in your seat before heading to the kitchen. You sit there looking around the room. Sohee had already set out utensils, and the place was spotless. She had spent what must have been hours cleaning. Your fingers run along the dinner table before you begin nervously tapping on it. Her husband walks in from another door; he looks shocked at seeing you sitting there. 

"Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?" He asks.

"I'm your neighbor." You say with some skepticism. He should know that. Sohee had mentioned that her husband recommended inviting you over. "...I was invited here by Sohee."

"Sohee never told me about this." He states before heading to the kitchen. You can't hear the conversation, and a long time passes before the man returns. He takes a seat at the table, looking incredibly angry. The tension in the room makes the situation uncomfortable. You keep your head down while you wait. Eventually, Sohee returns carrying the food she has cooked. She places the plates of food in front of both of you before returning to the kitchen. She repeats this process until many dishes cover the table. At the very end, Sohee brings out two bottles of wine, one much larger than the other. 

She hands her husband a glass before grabbing the smaller of the two bottles. "Here, honey, let me pour you a drink." She says as she pours a large amount of the alcohol for him. He remains silent, shifting the wine in his glass before drinking it all in one swift motion. He grumbles something before beginning to eat. Sohee pouts, "Can't you say something? I gave you the better wine." He remains silent. Sohee places the small bottle on the table and picks up the larger one pouring you both a glass. She hands you your glass before taking her seat at the table; you take a swig of the wine, eventually drinking a few glasses. The feeling of the room is a mix of frustration and infatuation as Sohee watches you carefully. Her husband continues munching on his food, and you and her begin soon after. As you eat, you feel something touching your crotch; as you glance across the table, Sohee hides her mischievous smile from her husband. Her foot slowly moves up and down the length of your half-hardened cock. You glance at her husband, his head in his hands; it looks like he's struggling. As your gaze returns to Sohee, she puts a finger to her lips and winks at you. 

"Just enjoy," she mouths. Sohee continues to eat, bringing a spoonful of rice to her mouth. Her pink lips close around the end of the spoon, and you watch her slowly pull it out of her mouth. Her tongue sneaks its way out of her mouth as it rubs against the bottom of the spoon. All of her actions seem sexually charged now; they all work to arouse you. She smiles as you watch her. Her foot continues to rub your cock as you watch her sensually eat.  A sudden thud on the table distracts you. Sohee's husband is on the table, unconscious. He had collapsed on the table; he was still breathing, from what you could tell. The next thing you know, Sohee is at your side.

She leans over, her hand over your clothed bulge. "Don't worry about him. He's just a lightweight; the smallest bit of alcohol will do that to him. Why don't you come with me? I can take care of your little friend here." Sohee latches onto your arm and pulls you up. "Let's get to my bedroom. I'll even slip into something more comfortable for you." You don't resist; you're becoming entranced by Sohee. Her soft breasts press against your arm as you walk toward her bedroom. Once you get to her bed, she heads to the bathroom, saying, "Why don't you get comfortable too? I'll be right back." You follow along, taking off your clothes before lying on the bed.

When Sohee returns, she's wearing only a sheer nightgown. It's a very light blue and shows off every part of her body. Her small buds stand erect, and her nether region is completely smooth and shaven. Still standing in the doorway, she turns to the side, allowing you a view of her shapely ass. She giggles, "Liking what you see?" She asks as she slowly walks toward you. 

"You look amazing." That’s all you can get out as you stare at her body. How you couldn't recognize her beauty earlier is a complete mystery to you. As she gets closer, you notice her thighs glistening as her juices run down her legs. 

"I don't think I can wait any longer," Sohee says as she crawls onto the bed. She climbs over you until your cock rubs against her lower lips. She's kneeling over your cock; Sohee grasps your cock and runs the head between her folds. Her juices coat your cock as they drip down from her slit. Sohee's moans flood your ears as she grinds on the tip of your cock for what seems like forever. In reality, it was only a few seconds. Sohee sinks down on your cock. Her pussy welcomes you, caressing every part of your cock as she takes more of you in. You both moan, the feeling driving you wild.

When Sohee's buried your cock inside her, you can't help but start thrusting, giving her no chance to adjust. You reach for her ass and squeeze the soft flesh. Your grip tightens as you slam Sohee down on your cock. She holds onto your arms as you use her. "Yes! Give me your cock!" She shouts before her body collapses on top of you. She forces a kiss upon you, her tongue desperately trying to break past your lips. "I've wanted you for so long." She moans. You feel her walls tighten around your cock, squeezing you with great force. "I've wanted this cock for so long, and you didn't even know." Sohee's tight body twitches as she bounces quickly on your cock. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum!" She screams. 

Sohee grabs your head and pulls on your hair as she cums on you. Her back arches, and she throws her head back. "Oh fuck," She groans as you continue your thrusts. You feel your orgasm coming as you drive your cock deeper into her, a bulge where your cock is, is apparent. Your thrusts continue, and you hold onto Sohee's hips as you slam her down. "Cum inside me. Breed me, get me pregnant with your baby!" She yells as she drops herself on your cock. Your throbbing cock releases wave upon wave of sperm into Sohee's awaiting womb. She drops her upper body on top of yours, wrapping her arms around your head. "Your cum is so hot, and you pumped so much into me." She whispers into your ear. "I'll definitely get pregnant; I can feel your sperm swimming in me." Sohee's words in her breathy voice arouse you, and your cock hardens in her.

She climbs off you and turns around, "You liked touching my ass; why don't you fuck me from behind." Sohee raises her ass into the air, shaking it to taunt you into fucking her again. You couldn't resist; grabbing it earlier made you want it more. 

You position yourself behind Sohee; your hand runs across her ass before you spank her once. She yelps from the hit, "Fuck me, and you can play with my ass as much as you'd like." At those words, you ready your cock, impaling Sohee's cunt with it. In one smooth motion, you're once again buried inside her. Your cum provides the perfect lubrication as you thrust like a madman. You dig your hands into Sohee's ass while thrusting into her tight pussy. Sohee arcs her back further, allowing you to push deeper. Her moans grow louder, and she clings to the bed sheets as you send your cock crashing into her womb. You repeatedly spank her ass, turning it a bright red. The soft flesh feels great when you choose to grope it. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Sohee chants as she cums again. Her head falls to the side as she weakly moans for you to cum inside her again. "More, please fill me again." 

You lean beside her, "You'll have my baby." 

"I'll have your baby; just give me more," she responds. Her body is nearly limp as you drive your cock back into her. Feeling your orgasm building, you pull back Sohee's arms and pump your cock into her petite body with the speed of a piston. Drool spills from Sohee's mouth as she begs for you to cum. As you cum you force your cock as deep as you can. Her small body struggles to contain it all, spilling out of her used pussy. Releasing her arms, she drops onto the bed. When you pull out your cum flows out of her like a river. You fall to her side and immediately fall asleep.

The following day you wake up in your room. You look around, wondering how you got there. On your nightstand, you find a note. "Thanks for last night, hun." She signs off with a heart. You see her every so often when she passes by. She'll usually give you a small wave and a knowing wink.

Months later, you see her walking around the neighborhood with her belly now sufficiently swollen. She looks around before coming up to you. She whispers into your ear, "I hope you know this baby is yours." She takes your hand and rubs her belly with it. "It’s all yours, but don't worry. I won't tell anyone. My husband thinks it's his. He doesn't remember that night." Her hand leaves you as she reaches for your cock. "If you want, we could always have sex again, even if I am pregnant." A twisted smile on her face. She looks into your eyes. "Or do you want to wait until I've given birth so you can pump another baby into me? We could have another dinner party." Seeing that you weren't going to answer, she cups your cheek. "You don't have to answer now; just let me in when I visit you later." With that, she walks away, holding onto her belly.

[soulwrit3s]

not a thing in my name.

a/n: everybody and they mama was in shambles. It’s not my fault YEW chose Tori mane 😭 (I’m just kidding plz don’t get me) so I made this part 2 🙏🏽 I’m personally not the biggest fan of this part 2, but Ik you all have been waiting for it. I was conflicted on how to end this piece and I’m scared that it shows 💀

Here’s part 1

🎶: @pvnks0ul @fentibeauty @onyxstones-world @kissvamps @shurislover @eringranola @elyxiir @oceean @teadah18 @ririshotgf @blushyrawrz @imnotb

A part of you has begun to hate fame. At the same time, you’re grateful for everything, for everyone. You’ve started to hate how invasive everyone has become. There’s a camera in your face every single time you step into your home. There’s always some sort of hateful tweet or Instagram comment which is mostly due to your lack of management.  The only person that you know that was ever good with hooking you on to others was Riri.

She’s barely in your life so things aren’t the same. You have a whole group of people with you at all times. Especially on your tour. It’s so close to ending with LA as its last location.

You finally make it to your hotel room with Tori trailing behind you. She seems to be enjoying the fame, she’s gained quite a bit since your relationship is now public. Now it’s broadcasted, and everyone’s wondering who she is. And since you’re with her all the time, you decided that she might as well be a part of your team, as a manager. She manages your schedule, and what time everything happens.

The real reason is so she can communicate with anyone that needs to reach you. Riri included. Not that you can’t speak to her but you wouldn’t be able to handle interacting with her after what happened four months ago. So you have Tori handle it.

“Damn, New York! I did not miss this,” She chuckles as you chuck your heels off. You’re exhausted but you offer a curt smile anyway.

“Yeah, same.” You agree. You rush into the lush bathroom, ripping off your lashes, and wiping off your makeup. You slip into the shower quickly and head out in a fluffy robe to hear Tori on the phone.  She’s sitting on the edge of the California-sized Bed, tightly gripping the phone. She catches you at the door frame and visibly relaxes.

“Yeah but you know she got early mornings tomorrow, I don’t think you should come.”  She says with some edge to her voice. You approach her, watching her eyes trail over your frame before you cup her cheek. You’d like to think that your relationship is fixing itself. You’re starting to feel like the boredom is stability.

“Who was that?”

“No one.” She promises while wrapping her arms around your waist.

…

You can’t spend your mornings admiring the beautiful city or taking walks like you used to. There’s something nostalgic about being in New York again. It’s like being home again. Despite how irritating it can get, and ending up at the 125th by accident, you’ve missed the chaos of it all.

But, you can’t have everything. You can’t stand still and admire anything either. So you get ready in the morning while it’s still dark. While rubbing cream into your face, you notice the deep bags that have begun to form beneath your eyes after a hot shower. 

Sleep has been difficult lately. Not only do you get six hours at best, the quality of it sucks. The mattress in the hotel is barely comfortable to you, too soft. You find yourself sinking in silk sheets at night. And it doesn’t help that you get super cold, Tori likes to keep to her side of the bed and nine times out of ten her back is facing your own so warmth from her isn’t even an option.

You step out of the bathroom, dressed in dark sweats and a gray hoodie to match. You barely look done up, but that’s not anything you're concerned about right now.

You sit at the foot of the bed, reaching for Tori to pull her out of sleep.

“Tori, c’mon, wake up.” You breathe out. She wakes up with a jolt, looking around and forcing a chuckle out of your lips.

…

“That was gorgeous! Y/N!” A manager speaks, hollering from the empty crowd. A thin layer of sweat covers your body as you finally take in a needed deep breath. You don’t remember this hurting so bad during your last performance. You see hundreds of seats in front of you, but they aren’t filled just yet. You’re sure they will be in less than 13 hours. You had to go over your entire routine, it’s a lot. More than you’ve ever done but you’ve worked through it and that’s all that matters. A manager of the venue wanted to watch you rehearse and seems to have enjoyed it. You smile at him in thanks and sit on the edge of the stage, reaching for the water bottle next to you.

After a while, you go backstage to find Tori on the phone. She notices you and smiles.

“Alright, I’ll call you back.” She says, quickly stuffing her phone in her pockets.

“I heard you, you sounded good, babe.” She smiles as her hand grazes your arm. She takes a step closer to you and lowers just a bit to whisper into your ear. 

“After this event, we could-“ You begin.

Her phone rings again. She takes a step back, smiling at you before walking away. You’ve been trying your best to fix everything. To bring you back to the way things were before. She’s been on the phone more often than usual lately. You’re sure it’s just to manage your schedule and whatnot so you don’t question it. 

…

By the time the performance is broadcast all over social media, you’re already on a plane to LA for your next location. Tori decided to linger in the last tour location, saying she had things to wrap up.

You blast some Sade up into your headphones and lean back into your seat.  First class seats weren’t anything that you were able to experience back then so you take advantage of it now and do your best to relax despite the headache beginning to form. You close your eyes, the aches in your body finally releasing.

Before you can truly relax, you blink your eyes open, looking around to see a familiar head. A woman is sitting across the other isle right next to you,  facing the window but with gorgeous braids and spare curls gracefully falling next to them. She’s not sitting normally, instead, she has one foot perched up on the seat and low-hanging sweats. She turns around and meets your gaze.

Riri.

You blink again and do your best to shake the thought out of your head. When your vision clears you realize that it’s just a woman that you’ve never seen, dressed in regular clothing at that.   

You’ve been trying not to think about her. The guilt is beginning to chew at you again. She was one of the realest people you will ever meet in this industry. The way you ended was messy but you wished she was at least still a friend. But you can’t have that. You can’t have her and Tori at the same time, she told you herself.

“I want nothing less. I don't want to be the other woman.”

She couldn’t ever possibly be the other woman.

…

“Thank you! Los Angeles!” You yell out onstage.  This is your second to last show and you went all out. Your adrenaline is at an all-time high like it always is when you’re on stage but all you can focus on is how much these platform heels are killing your ankles. The crowd is so loud you can’t hear yourself and the beat of your music is just as loud if not louder than they are. 

The song You were originally supposed to end with was the last one you made with Riri but it was somehow scrapped from the list. You don’t know how or why but right before you got up on stage, Tori had told you to not bother performing  It.

You get backstage, relieved that you’re finally done with All the performing and exhaustion. You don’t see Tori backstage like you expected.

It’s Riri in the flesh.  Or at least you think it is so blink once,  really hard to focus. She can’t be here but you’ll take your chances.

You wrap your arms around her shoulders, tightening so you’re pressed against each other.

“I missed you.” You smile as she rubs your back. She looks the same for the most part, her style is still on point.

You pull away to get a good look at her, she’s in a white oversized tee and some baggy jeans. You notice some concealer but only because it’s covering the pretty marks on her skin that you’d love to see.  Gold on the bottom row of her teeth and her chain glimmers in the dim light but you don’t mention it.

“You look good, ma, damn. I saw you up there and I was like, damn.” She praises you.  You missed her voice too. So much that you feel like it’ll bring you to tears. You’ve needed some sort of good thing to happen to you lately.

This is wearing you down and you feel like you’ve finally found comfort.

“How are you here?” You question while her hand rests on your waist.

“I ordered the tickets a long ass time ago, I talked to yo girl and she was cool wimme being backstage, I know it’s your second  last.” She remembers. Of course, she does. You do your best to memorize the feel of her hands on your skin, the calloused slightly fingertips and soft palms. You feel her hands slowly leave you and the energy shifts once she begins to look at the floor and then at you, like she’s somehow anxious. That’s new. “I wanted to see you one last time. I’m moving away from Chicago…I need something new, calmer. I found some cabin in Montana which is weird, but…I think I need to go somewhere quiet.” She says. You swear you stop breathing. Her hand rubs against the skin of your hip as comfort. This is good for her. “You’ve always been on that spiritual shit, anyway.” You smile while feeling the prick of tears in the back of your eyes and the gentle shaking in your voice. You watch her chuckle, the biggest smile forming on her face. Oh, how you’ve missed her. And now she’s leaving. “Good luck with your tour, baby.” She doesn’t attempt to kiss you on the cheek. Instead, she brings your hand to her lips, kissing them the same way she did at that party and staining you with her touch. You pull her into a hug one more time. You want to tell her that you love her. That you don’t want to be in the music industry without her. That you so badly want to drop everything to go in the middle of nowhere with her. You want to tell her that you wish you weren’t so scared. She hugs you back, securing her arms around your frame. “You were never the other woman.” You admit despite the lump in your throat. “I know, baby.” And with that, she’s gone. 

…

Chicago feels weird when you’re back.  You should be ecstatic. Your last show is in your hometown. Your career is taking off, you’re becoming a household name. Artists are blowing up your phone and begging to collaborate with you. Labels want to sign you. Fans recognize you when you walk out of the house. It’s amazing but so suffocating.

“You've been off lately,” Tori says from the shower. You continue to do your mascara in the mirror. She’s humming the song that you had made with Riri.  It makes you think back to why she had cut it out of the list. “Why’d you take the song out?” You suddenly ask, hearing the hot water cut out. “Ion need everybody listening to it, You made it for me.” She says before beginning to go on and on about your love for her, which you would be paying attention to if there wasn’t constant buzzing in your ear. You look down and hear the buzz in her sweats on the floor. It’s not her usual phone, it’s a different color with a different case. You stand upright and before you can see a contact name, you feel steam right behind you and watch her grasp the phone. “Work phone, Let me answer it.” She insists, barely giving you room to answer before leaving. ..

That phone call turned into some sort of meeting that she dressed too well for. She for some reason wore her best cologne and made sure her hair looked right. Tori left you with a kiss on your forehead before heading out of the house. She’s been gone for five hours.  The same way she knows you, the same way you know her. You ain’t fucking dumb. You’ve spent the last five hours on the couch, zoning out and coming back to reality. You saw this coming, especially with her constantly taking too many calls, staying in tour locations without you, her quickly hanging up when you came around. You wait for her to step back into your shared apartment. She has a grin on her face. You feel stupid for not having seen this coming. She tosses her two phones and car keys on the glass coffee table in front of you. “Where were you?” You question while she sits next to you on the couch. She scoots closer and you let her. She looks flushed and all you can think about is how much you used to love her.  Her eyes grow wide and you’re sure the look on your face is enough for her to know that you know. “Babe-” “How long?” You ask, it’s not fair. You knew she was insecure about Riri but you never pinned her as the type. “What the fuck are you on?” She curses, damn near yelling before standing up. A loud repeated buzzing turns her quiet. She looks at you like you’ve slapped her. “Pick up and put it on speaker.” You order. She takes in a deep breath before doing as asked. You keep your eyes on her own before she taps the screen. “Hey baby-” A feminine voice greets her through the phone, she sounds so fucking irritating. 

She knows it’s the end of your relationship. …

“Thank you, Chicago…truly. I’m honored to finish my tour here.” You watch the video of you ending your tour.  It was amazing, the fans were perfect, the energy was everything. Now you sit in a cab on your way to your apartment.

You figured that Tori cheated on you because of Riri. She had been with the mystery girl for a year and a half. If it was after Riri maybe you would’ve given her some chance. Even before Riri, she had been with someone, perhaps that’s why she was so tolerant for so long. You didn’t ask for many details just for how long. She tried to make excuses about how she didn’t feel cared for and how she always felt like you saw her as some sort of pawn. As far as you know, Right now she’s packing her bags and making her way out of your apartment. You won’t know until you get back home. “We’re here, Ma’am.” The cab driver, you leave him with a generous tip before quickly making it home. You need to be home, your bones are beginning to ache and so are your joints. 

As you approach your apartment you swear you hear shifting and a voice. The closer you get, the more distinct it becomes. It’s not Tori for sure, It’s some woman with a grating moan that you hear sounds too fake to be true. You quietly walk through the door only to find a naked body on top of your ex. You stand there in silence, crossing your arms. You already thought it was crazy for her to have been cheating on you for months. But for her to fuck in your apartment, that’s another level of disrespect. You knock on the doorframe, watching both of them jump like they’ve got blood on their hands. She’s riding your ex like there’s no tomorrow. “What the—Y/N, You..” Tori starts breathlessly. 

“Be out in ten minutes.” …

Your finger hovers over Riri’s contact name.  Her photo is cute, it’s a selfie of the two of you in her studio. You’re sitting on your washer, cleaning the fucking fluids off your couch cover while a tall glass of wine sits in your palm. 

You miss her. So much. This breakup should hurt. You’ve known Tori for so long but for some reason, it doesn’t hurt. You feel relieved instead.

“I’m not gonna be your second choice, Y/N. I refuse to be an option, okay?” 

Riri was never the second choice. And all you’ve thought about since your career has taken off is her. She should have her arm wrapped around your waist at events. She should be the one driving you home.

You would hate to see her again and have her feel like she was the last option. So you decide that maybe it’s about time you fix that. 

….

Turns out she really went to fucking Montana. You double check her location which she gave you ages ago.  You’re close, right next to each other almost. It’s bright out, after a rough night at your apartment. You abruptly decided that there was no use in waiting to not go see her. So you chose to book an early flight. 

It’s beautiful, there are mountains everywhere and it looks like she’s alone. You walk up the steps of the cabin’s porch. Maybe this is a horrible idea. Maybe she’s moved on. She could very well have already moved on. 

There’s a light chill this morning. You raise your hand and knock at the door, waiting for a response.

“How’d you find me, y/n?” She questions. She doesn’t make a single sound of irritation. There’s a small smile on her face and her toned frame is showcased because of the sleeveless top she has on. 

She doesn’t look like the Riri you know but she does. She doesn’t have any makeup on, no lashes done, she’s barefaced with her hair slicked back in a neat bun. She’s still so beautiful. She looks happy. Less stressed.

You can’t help but smile at the sight of her. She looks all the same for the most part, so carefree, with a small smile on her face and blissed eyes. 

You smell her vanilla perfume that brings you home every time. It reminds you of a home that you don’t recognize. It just feels right. She feels right. 

“A lot happened and I missed you.” You admit, still a little afraid of her reaction. 

“Just say you still got my location…Come here.” She laughs before grabbing your hand and pulling you into her arms. You don’t hug her back immediately.  But then eventually you settle into her touch for a while. She pulls away to get a good look at you. 

Her eyes are dilated, more than you’ve ever seen them. You’ve never had the privilege of admiring her up close. She’s so beautiful, you knew that already but watching her from a distance is different.   Her hand is gentle against your cheekbone. Her sweet eyes scan over your makeup that’s somehow still dewy although it’s been hours since you put it on.

“You hate red lipstick,”  She points out at your stained lips. You’re confused before thinking back to what she’s talking about. In your last performance in Chicago, your lips were a vibrant shade that you hate. She’s not wrong,  you hate how much attention it draws but you’re glad she’s seen it. She’s been keeping up with you.

“That hasn’t changed.” You murmur, watching her reach her thumb to your skin to wipe at your lip as if the lipstick is still there.

“Come in,” 

….

“Oh damn, so she has been fuckin’ somebody else,” Riri says with raised brows and a hushed tone. A sour taste grows in your mouth even though you know it shouldn’t. 

“I guess.” You murmur while looking around Riri’s place. Most of the interior is just the old warm decor she had at her old place. Her guitar sits up against the wooden wall next to the fireplace. You see why she moved here. It’s gorgeous and all you hear is birds chirping outside. 

You take a sip of the hot chocolate she’s made for you before leaning back onto the couch. 

“I’m sorry ‘bout that, baby.” She comforts you while inching closer to you and rubbing your knee. The pet name makes you melt all over again. She leans back, watching the fire pit. 

“You going back to the city soon?” You wonder.

“Mhm…in a couple of months. I can’t let down my artists. I’ve been working from home for the most part.” She comments. 

“I’ve missed you.” You admit. You haven’t felt this calm and centered in a long time. It’s just so quiet. It’s just you and her. 

“Me too.” She agrees while both of you look at each other.  She’s always been good with eye contact but this is something different. You wonder if she’s always looked at you like this.

You know she won’t take the initiative to lean in so you do and eventually she follows, the hand she had on her knee moves up to your waist and you’re so close you could count the cute little freckles by her eyes.

Your lips ghost over each other and you almost taste the mango-flavored chapstick on her lips before her face tenses. 

“I can’t be your rebound either, Y-“ 

You ignore the sheer irritation brewing in you before leaning in to kiss her. You pull away to gauge her reaction, her chest is rising and falling at a pace you don’t think you’ve ever seen before.

“You can’t be a rebound when you were never the other woman, And I’m sorry that it took so long for me to realize that,” You blurt and for the first time, you can’t tell what she’s feeling. Her hands wrap around your face as she speaks.

“Took you long enough.” 

She kisses you again and she doesn’t stop until your lips go numb. 

[rollinouttahere-writes]

So. It's kinda random but what if Platonic Yandere! Strawhats with Y/n who is an artist? And maybe one day they saw how Y/n drew one of them but doesn't want to show any?

Let me see!

Yandere Straw Hats x GN!Reader

1.4k words

It was rare to get any time to yourself around here. Ever since you got mixed in with the Strawhat Crew, you felt like you always had someone attached to your hip or hovering over your shoulder. This made indulging in your personal hobbies difficult. Granted, it’s not like any of them would stop you from doing it, but you wanted to keep at least one thing for yourself.

Today was one of those instances where you were actually being left alone. You’re not sure how it happened this time. Maybe they all thought you were already spending time with someone else. Whatever, you’re not about to waste these precious moments pondering it.

Quietly slipping into your room, you pull your sketchbook and utensils out of their hiding spot. You curled up in your bed and flipped through the book until you found a blank page. Twirling the pencil between your fingers, you contemplate what to draw.

Despite your.. Complicated relationship with the crew, you couldn’t help but be inspired by them. Well, artistically speaking at least. They were constantly doing all these incredible feats and looking cool as hell while doing it. That, and it’s not like you saw much else besides them anyways.

After mulling it over, you start sketching, having decided on drawing Luffy today. He was an incredibly fun person to draw, what with his admittedly adorable baby face and his cartoonish anatomy. 

It didn’t take long for you to really get into the zone and be only focused on putting new lines onto the sheet of paper. You’re so focused that you don’t hear the door to your room open, nor the sound of sandals slapping across the floor until it’s too late.

“(Y/N)! Why are you hiding in here, I’ve been looking for you!” Luffy giddily rushed towards your bed and threw himself onto it, and subsequently you.

Frantically, you try to hide the sketch book under the covers, but he already saw it. Perking up, he tries snatching it out of your hand, “C’mon, why are you reading a book when you could be playing with me?!” 

Yes! You might be able to get out of this yet. If he thinks it’s a book, he definitely won’t try to read it and discover what it really is. “I like reading, Luffy. I just want to curl up with a good book once in a while,” as you’re saying this, you narrowly avoid letting it fall into his grabby hands, and slip it underneath yourself to sit on it.

He pouts and rests his face on his hands, still focused on the book, “Is it really that good that you want to read it more than hang out with me?”

You cringe a bit at how pointed the question was. There was no good answer here. Either you say no and he’ll immediately drag you off, or you say yes and run the risk of hurting his feelings. Then you’ll have to deal with a temper tantrum from him, and being admonished by the rest of the crew for being mean. “It’s not about it being better than hanging out with you, I can like doing more things you know.”

Luffy huffs at your indirect answer and begins tugging on the book again, “What’s it’s even about then?”

Oh shit. Um. Hm. Now you need to improvise. “It’s about,” you dart your eyes around looking for any inspiration to help you out. You’re in a plain room on a boat in the middle of the ocean, and of course the plot of literally every book you’ve ever read has completely vacated your brain.

You were apparently taking too long to tell him, so he just ripped it out from under you to investigate himself. “It can’t be that good if it’s that hard to explain. Why would you-” Luffy’s sentence died on his tongue as he opens it, right onto a picture of himself.

Panicking, you launch yourself onto his back in a desperate attempt to confiscate it, but he simply stretches his arms to keep it out of reach.

“This is awesome! Why didn’t you tell me you could draw so good?” Much to your chagrin, he starts flipping through it, now seeing sketches of the other members, too.

“Luffy! Give that back! I didn’t say you could look at that!” Blood rushed to your face from the embarrassment of being caught.

He peers over his shoulder at you, looking bewildered at your statement, “What’s the big deal? Don’t you want to share your talent?”

“No, I don’t! Just give it back and don’t tell anyone about it! Please!” You scrambled off the bed and leapt for the book, but he just snapped his arms back and continued the game of keep away.

You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to make sense of your words and actions. His eyes suddenly widened and he grinned as something clicked for him, “Oh I get it! You don’t know how good these are! You just need some help realizing it!” With that, he took off out of your room, sketchbook in hand.

“Get back here!” You sprinted after him, hoping you could get it back before he showed everyone, but deep down you knew it was already too late.

You were at a massive disadvantage here. Luffy was fast, especially when he had something he wasn’t supposed to. By the time you make it onto the deck, you’re horrified to see he’s already acquired an audience. Nami and Robin were seated at the table, with Sanji serving them some tea and snacks (which were currently being inhaled by Luffy while they were distracted by the book).

“You aren’t supposed to see that!” You hope that you’ll be able to get it out of Robin’s hands, but Luffy wraps one of his arms around you, leaving you immobilized at his side. Before you could beg them to please put it down, Luffy shoves a tiny cake into your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Go back a page, I think I saw one of me!” Nami was pestering Robin and trying to get it to herself, but any attempts at grabbing it were thwarted by an arm sprouting from the table and swatting her hands away. 

“In a minute, Nami, I’ll let you see when I’m finished,” Robin was entirely unbothered by her pleas (and yours), choosing to casually flip through each and every page with a small smile on her face.

Sanji was looking over them, smiling at the artwork, and was the first to acknowledge that you were standing right there. “These are incredible, though I’m not surprised that you would be so talented~!”

The sweet and genuine compliment almost made you cave in to accepting the situation, but you dismissed it. Swallowing the cake, you can finally speak again, “Please stop looking at that, I don’t like people looking at my sketchbook!” Especially not when the people in question kidnapped you and are actively holding you hostage.

“Oh? Are you shy about it? How cute,” Robin teased.

“It’s not-” you were once again cut off by another cake being stuffed into your mouth.

“What are you guys all looking at?” Chopper was now approaching with Usopp not far behind. Great. Why not just let everyone see it! 

Robin flipped to a page with Chopper on it and showed it to him, “(Y/N), took the time to draw all of us, it seems.”

Chopper’s eyes sparkled at the drawing, and against all logic he was somehow blushing??? “Oh I don’t look all cutesy like that, you jerk!” His dopey smile easily contradicted his words.

“I didn’t know you were also an artist. You should have told me sooner, I could’ve been teaching you! I’ll have you know I’ve tutored many famous artists! In fact, this reminds me- You drew me too?!” Usopp’s tale is cut short when Robin shows him a sketch of himself. 

You finally stop struggling, instead choosing to flop against Luffy in defeat. What’s the point? Damn near everyone has already seen it, you’re sure Zoro will wander on over here soon enough anyways. 

Upon feeling you give up, Luffy lets go and looks very pleased with himself. He unceremoniously shoves the little remaining food into his mouth and runs off calling for Zoro while Sanji gives chase, scolding him for eating all the food.

You just stood there, not knowing what else you could do. With Luffy gone, everyone else was crowding around you, lavishing you with compliments and asking questions all at once. You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer, all you could do was sulk as the last thing that you had just to yourself was taken away and thrown out into the open.

It was bound to happen eventually, you suppose.