#anyway do you think that the sadness that clung to you when you were a child was only mildly reprived during college

[lesbianpraetor]

.

[thewailingbells]

I couldn't find if you had a request guidelines. But I did see that you wrote for Thomas hewitt!

In your latest post, Thomas ended up getting on his knees and hugging S/O (gf/wife?) waist. That really did sm for me girl 😩💪🥵

Can we get another fic Where's he's literly on his knees for her (when she would do anything for him anyways). Maybe he's just had a bad day, and is showing his appreciation for her comforting him. And he's just on his knees completely submitting to her 😩😩? Feel free to change whatever. (Or not do the req if you're not comfy)

PLEASE AND TY BBG

My Love Mine All Mine

AN: I’m sorry it took me a while to answer your request, it was the end of the trimester for my school and I was very busy. Anyway, I hope you like it!

Warnings: None!

The Texas heat clung to Thomas’s sweat-soaked clothes as he slammed the front door shut, the wooden frame rattling. He stomped down into the basement, the weight of each step vibrating through the worn wooden stairs.

The loud noises of Thomas’s frustration echoed through the house, jolting you from the pages of your book. With a sigh, you set the book aside, rising from the dusty old chair. You made your way towards the basement, gently knocking on the door.

"Thomas," you called out, your voice carrying a mix of worry and compassion. "Come upstairs.” Silence was all that followed. You pressed on. "Don’t make me come down there and get you! I know you hate it when I go to the basement."

A heavy sigh came from the other side of the door, and after a moment, the sound of Thomas's boots echoed back up the stairs. He opened the door, and he met your gaze—a mixture of anger and sadness in his eyes.

A frown appeared across your face. "Tommy, did you have another rough day at the Slaughterhouse?" His eyes briefly met yours before shifting to the ground.

"Are they giving you a hard time? Saying mean things to you again,” you asked gently. He responded with a shrug. It was his way of saying yes when he had too much pride to fully admit it.

You gave him a comforting hug. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. Those men can be cruel. You know that nothing they say is true, right? What were they saying this time?"

His hand found its place on the back of your neck, and in a hushed whisper, he confessed, "Ugly."

"You're the most handsome man I've ever met!" you declared, tightening your embrace. Tommy huffed in annoyance, rolling his eyes.

“Kneel down. I want to show you something,” you said.

He slumped his shoulders, a defeated sigh escaping him as he kneeled down.

“Tommy, I think every part of you is handsome. From your arms, to your chest, to your hands, I love all of you. You know what I think is really handsome, though? Close your eyes.”

He allowed you to take charge. Your fingers worked at untying his mask, and as it fell from his face, the foreign feeling of his lower face being exposed made him shudder. Yet, that odd sensation was quickly replaced with a comforting one—the feeling of your lips meeting his.

You gently pulled away from him and smiled. “I love your face. I love that I’m the only one who gets to kiss it. I love how no one looks like you. You’re mine. My Tommy. And I will always love you more than you will ever know.”

For a split second, you could have swore you saw his eyes glisten with tears. Before you could say anything, he buried his face in your stomach.

You ran your fingers through his hair to comfort him. Before you could praise him some more, you faintly heard the words, “love you,” said in a gruff voice. You smiled softly and kissed the top of his head. No man was better than your Tommy.

[hard-core-super-star]

make you mine this season [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x barton!reader

summary: a badly timed snowstorm leaves you unable to make it to the barton farm for christmas. thankfully, a certain archer shows up to keep you company.

warnings: none, i think? just really cheesy, holiday rom-com type of fluff [i say this as if i've watched any holiday rom-com besides happiest season and the holiday 😶]; kate's a dork [wow, what a shock]; idiots in love; past mentions of bishova; bad jokes?; snowstorm; cheesy gifts bc kate can't talk about her feelings

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: HI, EVERYONE, I'M ALIVE! and it wouldn't be a rubix fic if it WASN'T posted a little late ���� i hope you all had a fantastic holiday season and that you'll accept this very cheesy Christmas fic <3 [and maybe that last line is very self-indulgent but that's none of your business, if you know you know]

* * * * * * *

You’re no stranger to loneliness but things were bordering on ridiculous. Not only have you spent the past two years ridiculously in love with a certain purple-loving archer, you’re also on the verge of spending Christmas by yourself thanks to the worst-timed snowstorm of all time.

And maybe the first part of your unfortunate situation is your fault but that doesn’t stop the waves of disappointment from crashing into you.

This year was supposed to be different. 

That’s what you had told yourself in an effort to convince yourself to tell the young archer about your feelings for her. It was a strategy that almost worked…until a certain blonde decided to accept Kate’s offer for drinks…which turned into a date…which turned into a second date…which turned into the longest four months of your life.

You could never be one to be mad at someone else’s happiness but that didn’t stop you from feeling absolutely defeated every time you saw them together. There was no one to blame except you for the brunette’s lack of knowledge about your feelings and that only made everything worse.

It was impossible to ignore the ache in your chest when your eyes met Kate’s or the heavy jealousy that clouded most of your interactions with her. Maybe if you had been less into your head about the whole thing, you would have realized the way the archer’s smile never seemed to reach her eyes. 

Eyes that followed you every time you walked away.

You never noticed the traces of darkness that clung to her usually radiant persona but you were the first person at her side when the break up happened. She offered little to no details besides an awkward joke about the relationship ending almost exactly where it started right at the Rockefeller tree.

It was messed up in a way that made Kate want to make as many jokes about it as possible which resulted in you laughing at things that definitely weren’t funny and were just sad. Not as sad as spending the holidays completely alone and hopelessly in love with your best friend, though.

You were sure the archer was already well on her way to your dad’s farm which leaves you completely unprepared when the door to your apartment swings open to reveal her. She almost drops the key in her hand the second she realizes you’re home.

“What’re you doing here?” You question, doing your best to pretend you don’t see the gift bags she tries to hide behind her back.

You can practically see the wheels turning in her head before she’s finally able to respond. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at Clint’s?”

It’s hard not to laugh at the incredulous look on her face. No matter how many times you see it, it’s still as endearing as the first time. Back when she was just your dad’s protege and you hadn’t spent so many of your days learning the ins and outs of her complicated personality.

“Did the incoming snowstorm happen to slip your mind?”

“No, I just thought you’d want to go anyway,” she replies with a small shrug. 

“I’d rather not crash, Lila will never let me hear the end of it.”

Your words make her tilt her head to the side, the slightest hint of a pout on her face. “So…what, you’re just going to spend Christmas alone?”

“Yup. Kate, I’m not a kid anymore, nothing will happen if I spend one day by myself.”

“But it’s Christmas!” She exclaims, looking borderline offended that you’re so comfortable spending the holiday alone. 

“Is that why you’re breaking into my apartment?” You ask in a foolish attempt to stop yourself from asking her to spend the day with you. 

Just because she thought about you long enough to come drop off her, no doubt ridiculously expensive, gifts for you does not mean she wants to spend the holiday with you when she could easily spend it with anyone else.

The pink hue that overtakes her cheeks is a better gift than anything that could be inside the bags in her hand. “Well, uh…maybe…”  

She finally gathers enough courage to get rid of the distance between you with a bright, albeit nervous, smile on her face. You half-expect her to launch into some long ramble about why she just couldn’t stop herself from buying an insane amount of gifts for you this year but she doesn’t. 

For once in her life, Kate Bishop makes things easy for herself.

“I didn’t think I was going to make it to the farm on time so I was just going to drop these off for you…” She holds out the bag for you and you do your best to calm the rapid beating of your heart as you take it.

“Can I open it right now or will you get embarrassed?” 

“Both,” she replies through a chuckle. “I would leave but I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“Right, because I’m the one who gets lonely.”

“Shut up.”

It’s both a blessing and a curse to have broken through the archer’s defenses and right now, her cute reactions are beginning to feel like a curse. Although, that might just be your unrequited feelings talking.

A slightly awkward silence settles over both of you while you rifle through the overwhelming amount of purple tissue paper until you find your gift. You’re expecting another expensive necklace, maybe a bracelet this time, but what you’re met with is the most thoughtful gift you’ve ever received…and probably the most thoughtful gift Kate has ever given.

What you end up pulling out of the bag is a leather journal with a beautiful engraving of yours and Kate’s initials. “Kate…is this-”

“Yeah, I, um…I couldn’t find a photo album that I liked so I sort of…made my own.”

You can’t stop yourself from flipping through the first couple of pages, caught somewhere between the euphoria of being given something so beautiful and the disappointment that comes with knowing it all only serves to fuel your love for the archer. 

Love you can’t express the way you want to.

Love that’s hidden between the pages of the journal you hold in your hands. 

You don’t notice and Kate isn’t really in a hurry to watch you read the series of rambles that make up her overdue confession so she lets the moment fade like she always has. It’s not like you can blame her for wanting to move on to something else, her lack of focus isn’t necessarily a secret, and you let yourself get carried away by her jokes and her stubborn need to make mac and cheese for you.

The archer manages to cook without setting your kitchen on fire and the two of you settle on your couch to watch the first cheesy Christmas movie you find. In all honesty…the movie is awful but the corny jokes make Kate laugh so you can’t find it in yourself to be too grumpy about the shitty writing.

Until the scene in front of you reminds you of the archer and her ex. You’re unable to hold back the jealousy-tinted snarkiness said reminder brings out of you. “I think Yelena watched this movie and then decided to be a dick just like the main character.”

Kate instantly turns toward you, staring at you with wide eyes that barely hide her amusement. “What?”

“What?” You feign confusion to avoid having to repeat yourself.

“You know what,” she replies with an eyeroll. “If I’m the one who got broken up with, why are you the one that’s still upset?”

“Because- wait, why are you not upset?”

Your uno-reverse of a response leaves Kate speechless for a few seconds and you prepare yourself for the series of jokes that will no doubt leave her mouth next. 

But Kate’s never been predictable.

“Because…she didn’t break my heart. She didn’t even own it in the first place.”

Her words spark the low flames of hope hidden in the depths of your heart. It feels impossible and if you were a believer, you might even say Santa’s on your side, helping to give you the one thing you’ve wished for more nights than you can count.

And yet you hesitate.

“What are you trying to say?” You ask, your voice so soft it borders on cautious.

“That I’m an idiot,” she replies with that same bright smile that made you fall for her so long ago. “And…I’d really like to kiss you.”

The world seems to slow down to a complete stop at that moment. 

You almost don’t even know what to do with yourself. Thankfully, you manage to kick yourself into action before the moment passes.

Kate’s awkwardness seems to disappear into thin air as she leans in toward you, meeting you halfway for the softest, sweetest, kiss you’ve ever had. And maybe nothing about it is perfect but it’s you and her and that’s all that matters for now.

[tarosunshine]

https://www.tiktok.com/@notellieyong/video/7357580044870388997?_t=8m6uL0a3sj4&_r=1

could u possibly write something like this with anton? where he’s having the worst day possible but reader surprises him. it could be reader to anton or anton to reader 🥹🩷

ִ ۫ ⭒ 𝑂H, BABY ، ، 이찬영

𓈒 𝒢enre fluff angst ֢ no warnings . boyfriend anton lee fem! reader ⸝⸝ ⌕ ﹙ archιvᥱs ﹚

the last week you started planning a surprise for anton, sience his birthday was just around the corner.

at first, you didn't know where to start, so you asked his friends, brother, and obviously, you thought something by yourself, so you could make the perfect present for him. the last friday you started buying some balloons. you bought a box and decorated it to put the things.

and you were sure that your boyfriend wasn't suspecting anything. well, because he was a little too busy to go to your house.

and today was finally the day. you're so excited and nervous about the surprise.

at 00 o'clock you called him, wishing him happy birthday, telling him that you would go to his house in the afternoon.

at noon, he went to have lunch with his friends —and you took the opportunity to decorate your boyfriend's room when he left. so, when he was gone, his brother opened for you when he also left.

and you spent half an hour blowing the balloons, putting some adornments, letters with the happy birthday, and putting the last things inside the box. and two hours later, you heard the department door opening, so you quickly hid next to the frame door. there was a little space where anton couldn't see you when he entered. and about five minutes later, he finally opened the door.

“wh—” he looked his room speechless. his mouth making a 'o' and his hand still in the door handle.

after blinking a couple of times, he looked around, looking for something, well, looking for someone. you.

“there you are..” when his eyes meet yours, his gaze softened. you went out of your hiding place and stood in front of him. he was happy, but his face was a little different. you know that face.

“happy birthday, anton lee” you smiled at him, and you almost saw the full galaxy shining in his eyes. he looked like he was about to cry. instantly, he wrapped his arms around you, surprising you a little and making you stagger, but anyway, you hugged him back. his hands and arms clung to you.

“thank you” hearing his soft and grateful voice was like you had won in life. “ahh.. i really missed you this week” he says, making you giggle as you separate. you keep in each other's arms, staring in the eyes. that's when you noticed his now red and glassy eyes.

“what's wrong? you want to tell me?” you cupped his face as you frowned concerned. a weak smile appeared on his lips. he tried to bite them when they started to tremble.

“yesterday.. wasn't the best day. and today, i tried to don't think about it. after all, it was my birthday, right? but it's just... i really needed one of your hugs, and.. not seeing you the past days, it made me feel so bad, you know? then i entered my room, and you were right here, with a surprise just for me. and now, seeing your smile after all these days..” he sighed as you whipped off his tears over his cheeks with your thumbs. his eyes pierced on the floor between you two.

“i wish i had known that you felt this way because i would run to hug you tightly. even if you were at the other side of the world, ton” you said, still caressing his face, making him laugh a little, although he wasn't looking at you. so you gently made him do it by his cheeks, finally meeting your eyes. “and i have to say, mr. lee, that being way from you was also so sad” you sighed as you shook your head. he frowned, trying to stop crying.

“so now, birthday boy, you have to open your present” you tried to cheer him up, pushing playfully his shoulder.

“there's more?” he widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows as you walked to his bed, where the blue box with a white ribbon was. “you didn't have to..”

“oh, c'mon, ton. open it!” you patted the bed as you smiled at him.

he sat next to you and carefully opened it after admiring the decoration. and the first thing he grabbed was a plushie, a dinosaur plushie.

“of course i had to make my contribution to your collection” you smiled, remembering when you bought it after talking about it with sohee.

“yeah, and now this is my favorite” the tears started to fall again. and of course, you wiped them again.

“oh, babe..”

the second thing he grabbed was the mini set of legos. he looked up at you with a smile.

“they're legos and don't compare to those big ass sets that you have, but it's a panda! isn't it cute?” you stared at the box in his hands with the image of the animal. then you looked up at him, but he was already starting at you with a weak smile.

“yeah, it is..”

the last thing was a couple of face masks and a face product.

“oh, we're definitely using this when we're watching movies” he said as he read the packages, unconsciously pouting.

“so?” you asked a little nervous. he looked at you.

“so? i think you're the best..” he carefully left the things inside the box, and with a big smile, he pounced on you, making you both fall on the mattress.

“anton!” you giggled, feeling his arms around your waist, making you rest your head on his chest, where you could clearly hear his heart that was beating so fast. and he placed his on top of yours while his fingers started to caress your hair. you could smell his soap and perfume, now impregnated in your clothes.

“i love you” he whispered after a couple of seconds of silence.

you widened your eyes and immediately looked up at him, standing on your elbows.

“what did you just say?”

your heartbeat raced. this is the first time he said i love you sience you two started dating, so obviously took you by surprise.

“i said.. i love you” his ears were bright red and his voice shaked almost at the end of the sentence. surely, your face was flushed, too. “and tank you”.

“i love you too! and of course, i'll do anything i can to cheer you up and make that smile stay there”.

his signature smile grows on his face, with his shiney pupils —he's just too cute for your eyes. then he pulled you towards his face by your shoulders, resting one of his hands in the back of your head. and after you could say anything, he kissed you.

it was a kiss with full of love, those who anton always gave to you, the ones that tell you exactly how he feels.

[soloroomies]

lifemate (Chapter 11.5/ Sakusa x f!reader)

summary: his side of the story word count. 1.5k cw. marriage pact au, mature content, fluff, angst (misunderstanding) a/n. this chapter takes time after they talk in the car!

Masterlist

Kiyoomi is left confused as you rush out of the car. He takes the food box you brought and heads into the apartment, noticing your absence. Sitting at the kitchen table while eating his dinner, he reflects on what happened earlier.

He's never the best at reading people, though he knows he's getting better at it, especially with you. Something he’s so glad of. He sensed you were troubled but couldn't pinpoint why. When you brought up Hiyori, he tried to gauge your tone and expression. Was it jealousy? So, he asked. He didn’t really want to explain himself why, but he kinda hoped it was jealousy. Yet, you quickly denied it, saying you were just worried that other people would notice. That was his fear honestly—you’re only doing something because you’re married in the public eye. 

Hiyori had approached him during his break to discuss some social media planning. He tried to think hard of why his encounter with Hiyori might trouble you. Yes, they had hooked up in the past, but that was over. He felt nothing for her and had made it clear since the beginning that their relationship was strictly for that. That's why he hadn't mentioned her to you. Because there was nothing to tell.

Then, you mentioned being glad that you both always practiced safe sex. Were you implying he was sleeping around? Or were you? Because he obviously wasn’t. He couldn’t even imagine being with anyone else anymore. He then recalled the rules you both set before getting married—you weren’t exclusive. He didn’t even know why that stupid rule existed. Was it him who initiated that? Fuck. It was probably because he didn’t want you to feel that you were trapped with him. He remembered you still tried to date some people before you’re married. The thought of you with someone else hurt him deeply. He always considered himself level-headed about emotions, never one to dwell on them too much. But now, he felt anything but that. He couldn't help but be a bit petty, saying, “We can see other people anyway, right?” He hoped you would disagree, scream, do anything—but you were silent. Then you left.

Lying in bed, glancing at the side you had occupied the past few days, he feels a hole being dug within him, leaving emptiness and sadness. The memory of your presence, your warmth, and the laughter you shared makes the silence more deafening. 

He tries to pull the thread of his relationship with you, each memory tugging at his heart. You were his anchor, his constant, ever since high school. Even after graduation, he kept tabs on you, not wanting to let you slip through his fingers. People are always like that with him and most of the time he’s okay with that. But, he’s not okay if it’s you. He cherishes you deeply as a friend. He couldn’t be happier because you showed him too, that you cherish your friendship with him. You both stayed up to date with each other’s lives, even ten years after high school.

Then came that fateful day. The day you, Komori, and he talked about marriage, with Komori suggesting that he and you could get married. After that day, he secretly clung to the idea. He loved the thought of you and him together. From the moment you entered his life, you fit in seamlessly, like you’d always been there. You influenced so much of who he became without him even realizing it. He questioned himself—why hadn’t he made a move on you since high school? He felt stupid, but he thought it was partly because he didn't want to ruin the friendship. He knew how girls acted when they were interested, and you never showed those signs. Partly because he didn't know how to chase a girl. He never chased girls. It sounds conceited, he knows, but it’s the truth. So, he let your dynamic remain unchanged.

When he met you again, he brought up what had been on his mind, the marriage, adding that his parents were prodding him too. He was surprised when you initiated the pact but couldn’t deny his happiness about it. Over the next two years, he felt a bit crestfallen whenever he heard about you trying to date, information he got from Komori. But he let you be.

Then came this year. The year. Strolling through the lively streets of Tokyo on New Year’s Day, he was enveloped by festive decorations and a joyful atmosphere. The city buzzed with excitement, yet he felt a serene sense of peace and reflection. He remembered the reminder that had popped up on his phone that morning. As he continued walking, he noticed a small, elegant jewelry store. The display glimmered in the winter light, catching his eye. He stopped and gazed at the rings, imagining the radiant look on your face as you slipped one onto your finger. His last conversation with Komori had revealed that you weren’t seeing anyone. With a heart full of hope, he bought a ring. He planned to bring up the pact, wanting to make the marriage proper for you.

And then, you both were married. To this day, he still marvels at how it all happened. What astonishes him the most is how effortlessly and swiftly you found your way into his heart. You peeled away his layers, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. Despite his attempts to build walls, you gently dismantled them. It wasn't until these last few days, when he finally let his guard down, that he realized how deeply he craved you. He couldn't maintain his defenses any longer; he just couldn’t get enough of you. He’s never felt anything quite like this before. He only hopes with all his heart that you feel the same way.

The next morning, when he wakes up, there's no sign of you. Did he go overboard last night? But maybe you had work that required you to leave early today. He tries to shake off the uneasiness he feels. He wants to talk about last night when you're both home.

As he steps onto the volleyball court for practice, the familiar sounds of squeaking shoes and the rhythmic thud of the ball hitting the ground surround him. Usually, this is his sanctuary—a place where he can focus and push himself to the limit. But today, something feels off. He misses an easy dig, the ball slipping through his fingers and hitting the floor. His teammates give him puzzled looks, and he mumbles an apology. His coach notices his lack of focus and calls for a brief time-out, asking if everything is okay. He nods, but inside, he’s grappling with his concerns. Each time he tries to pull himself back into the game, his mind rebels, dragging him back to the unresolved tension. His teammates’ encouragement and the coach’s instructions seem distant. All he can think about is getting home and resolving the tension with you.

Unfortunately, when he gets home, you're still not there. That's odd since you usually come home earlier than him. It's even considered late for him to come home. He sends you a text, hoping for a quick reply, but there's no response. 

Wait. He almost forgot that your best friend is in town. He exhales, feeling relieved. Even so, he still wishes you had informed him or replied to his text.

Nearing midnight, he lies on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Still no text from you. He calls you a few times, but there's no answer. Anxiety starts to build. What if something happened to you? He sits up, feeling his hands slightly tremble. Fuck. He doesn't have Tami's number. Desperately, he scrolls through your Instagram, finds Tami in your following, and DMs her quickly.

The wait is agonizing, but after about ten minutes, Tami replies, saying that you're with her. He responds immediately, asking for her number and saves it once she gives it. He asks where you both are, and Tami replies that you're at a club. He frowns at that.

It's past midnight, and he has a match tomorrow, but he can't relax. He texts Tami again, asking her to inform him when you’re about to head home. It's almost two in the morning when he receives Tami’s text saying that you want to stay in her room. Kiyoomi feels dejected but lets it go, feeling glad at least he knows where you are. Tami informs him again that you and she are in her hotel room already, sending him a picture. He observes the image—you're still in your makeup and dress. Were you drunk? He frowns. But at least you’re safe and sound.

His mind floods with thoughts of how he might have upset you. He hopes he can make it up to you and that you'll forgive him. It's not until around three that he finally drifts off to sleep, thoughts of you still weighing heavily on his mind.

Taglist: @wolffmaiden , @fiannee , @nightlydream , @choizzn , @peachyaeger @crxm-dollx , @marisabel14 , @yunskook, @reimiiko

[yorshie]

Hii, I just Saw that your request are open and I couldn't help myself because i just love your work so much, especially "Pick Up the phone", i just want to know more! Could you do after the incident how the relationship grew and if the turtles ended up together with her??

hmmmm...listen. I knew exactly where Pick Up The Phone was going eventually when I wrote it, I just got a wee bit distracted writing other things. I guess it's about time I completed the story, I'm just really sorry because I'm sure you weren't thinking there'd be this much angst in it. Thank you for requesting this, hope you like it enough to wait til the third part before you write off the story as just sad.

PICK UP THE SLACK

Bayverse TMNT x Fem Reader Part One

Length: 5.7k

Summary/warnings: SFW, reader deals with the fallout of witnessing the turtles commit violence on her behalf. Warnings include: angst, trauma and coping with that trauma, panic attacks, complicated relationships, and, because when I wrote the first part the relationship was a bit vague, we're going with turtles have caught Feelings but reader isn't aware. Set in 2023 - turtles are 24-25

Tag list: @jackalope-in-a-storm @tmnt-tychou @spooneyes

[Hey Angel! Would you like to come hang out for a little bit? I’m grabbing some noodles and Leo’s pulled out some of his old tapes?]

You stared at the text, thumb hovering over the keyboard, torn between answering- even if it was just a few words- and not responding at all.

Outside your apartment, an early summer storm curled its way in-between the buildings, fog pressing up against the window like a hand pressing its palm flat against the glass. While it wasn’t raining yet, the way your soft hair clung to your sweater said it would soon.

Your arm itched in it’s colorful cast, and your phone screen dimmed from inactivity, pulling your attention back to the problem at hand. You sighed, set the little device to the side before curling in on yourself and scrubbing your free hand over you face.

You didn’t mean to avoid the turtles. It just sort of happened… before you realized it was happening.

Memories of that night were a little hazy, a little blurry when you tried to focus on them. You remember Donnie and Leo dropping you off at the hospital in the wee hours of the morning, Donnie clipping something to the back of your ear to help them keep track of you before Leo nudged you towards the emergency room doors.

You remember the nurses fussing over you, asking questions. You gave them the answers Donnie whispered to you over the little comm, too tired and out of it to keep anything straight. You were barely aware of the way people danced around you, the pointed questions, too preoccupied with the burn in your arm and the fog in your head to worry about what anyone else thought.

They tried to get you to talk to a social worker when you doggedly reiterated your story over and over. When you refused, the nurses traded looks, and it bothered you more that they thought you weren’t aware enough to clock the silent messages than their obvious conclusion to your injuries. 

Finally, after hours of dancing around, they confirmed that your arm was broken, but the break was clean and not all the way through, the doctor coming in to set the cast correctly before leaving you to the nurses once more.

They tried to keep you overnight for observation. When you refused that as well, they slapped a prescription in your hands to help with the pain and you were finally free, too far gone to worry about a tail following you out despite Donnie whispering in your ear.

You left by the front door, not really sure but walking on autopilot, unaware you were moving away from your watching protectors. Leo had scooped you up at the first alleyway you’d crossed, gaze curious. You knew he wanted to ask what was wrong, but you didn’t have an answer to give him. Not one that you could articulate, anyway.

The trip back to your apartment was a blur, but you remember distinctly standing in the middle of your living room, aware that someone had been in your space recently. Things had been moved. It wasn’t quite a good feeling, but you were too spaced to do more than blink and watch silently as Leo brushed past you and headed for your bathroom. He returned with a small bag of toiletries, and you hadn’t had the clarity to wonder how he knew what to grab.

“Why?” You’d asked, and maybe you’d tried to get out more words, but your throat was still so tight, the rest of the sentence trailing off into a slurred hum that had Donnie reaching for your arm.

“Raph forgot your toothbrush. “Leo said like it was common sense, tone gentle despite his tilted head, and you blinked again, an errant, floating thought wondering why Raph was even here in the first place.

Without thinking, you had looked around at your little space again. You swayed, silent, until you clocked movement in the corner of your vision and you realized both turtles were watching you worriedly. 

“I want… to stay here.” You slurred out, pressing a hand up to your eye to keep your brain in place.

“You have a concussion.” Donnie interjected softly, practical and no nonsense. His hand slid up your arm to palm the side of your face, to cover your hand. “It’s really not a good idea for you to be alone right now.”

“But…” You tried to tilt your head up to look at him, failing somewhere around his shoulders.

“No buts,” Leo said, and you realized you had trailed off mid-thought. “You’re going to the Lair where we can watch over you. I don’t like how fast you’re deteriorating.”

You didn’t want to- might have even opened your mouth to slur out a weak protest, but Donnie was already hoisting you up, curling his lean arms around your torso and legs to keep you close against him as he followed Leo back out the window.

You had conceded to staying the night in the Lair, let the four turtles take turns making sure you were alright, suffered through the wake up checks before being lulled back to sleep against one of them while the tv played softly in the background, low enough that the sound garbled everything around you. 

You weren’t exactly sure who was who, but you knew you woke up to each of them at least one, vibrant eyes staring into your own and fingers smoothing over the angles of your cheekbones, too close and too personal. You weren’t sure if it was your skin or theirs that felt feverish. Weren’t sure if it was your dreams or them that kept you jolting awake, crying and sweaty, but you were always aware of how strong their hands held you, how alien the rumble in their chests sounded, and the inky darkness always pressing at the edge of your vision.

In the morning you had bullied Mikey into taking you home, claiming the need of showering in your own space. He had conceded after you had threatened walking,  sweet face falling into sadness when he had waffled and you had started outright bawling at the overwhelmed feeling gripping your chest.

Mikey had dropped you off at your apartment, and you had locked the window, turned off your phone, and bawled in the shower for an hour straight.

That had been two weeks ago. Now, the weather was turning, the first pings of rain occasionally hitting your window, and- and your phone was vibrating on the couch seat next to you.

“Please.” You whispered into your hands, before unfurling and letting your head rest against the couch cushions to stare at the ceiling. “Please, stop checking in on me.”

The phone stopped buzzing as if it heard your plea, and you had a moment of blissful numbness, your eyes sliding to half mast as you stared at the opposite wall.

You didn’t know what was wrong with you, why your thoughts moved so slow, so tepid. You didn’t understand why you were avoiding the turtles, your friends, but somewhere in the back of your mind you were scared and tired of the way your hands shook, of the way you kept looking around for the next thing coming. It had to stop.

All at once, you felt that awful ball of emotion in your chest again. The one that hadn’t fully disappeared since you had broken down in the harsh light of Donnie’s medical room, when the turtles had held your breaking pieces together. The seesaw of emotions teetered violently under your skin.

You needed to be held together. 

Your phone started buzzing again, and this time your palm landed down on it with an audible smack, hand curling around to answer before you could think about the consequences.

“Mikey?” You rasped into the speaker, not quite sure what exactly you were asking but hoping he’d have an answer.

“Um… no. It’s me.” Came Leo’s apologetic tone, and you winced hard, but before you could apologize he was barreling onwards, “I can- I can get Mike for you-”

“Leo.” You wanted to shout his name, but it came out quiet. He stopped though, mid sentence, silent as he waited. 

“I’m sorry.” You finally choked out. “I saw Mikey’s message, thought it was him calling.”

“Ah.” Leo breathed into the phone, and your lips almost twitched, the sound familiar despite all the times you’d tried to teach him how to angle his phone so the air wouldn’t whistle. “That’s… why I’m calling, actually? We thought maybe you hadn’t seen it.”

“I saw.” You were quiet for another minute, your mouth opening and closing several times, trying to get the words you wanted to come out but they stayed lodged in the back of your throat, tasting more awful with every passing second.

Leo was patiently quiet through it all, though you know he must have heard you lick your lips and your breath stutter each time you tried to start. Finally though, just as you were on the brink of whining at whatever it was you were failing to articulate, he spoke, his words a low rumble that rubbed against your ears.

“I wish you were here.” He said, and it unfurled something tight in your chest. “We miss you.”

And just like that, whatever was in your throat came out like a sob, and you pressed your arm across your eyes and leaned forward, emotion running from your throat to your chest in a heady rush until you couldn’t tell if it was elation or a sharp stab.

“I miss you guys too.” You got it out, somehow, too raw to know if you were telling the truth, but it was ripped out of you. 

Leo made that low noise that you had only heard a handful of times before, where he was concerned but stuck, and the sound had you hiccuping at the knowledge that with this he couldn’t just pick you up and run from the danger.

“Can… can you come get me?” You started, stopped, powered through, and he answered too quickly, like he had been waiting for those words to leave your mouth.

“Raph’s on his way.” His tongue clicked, voice disappearing for a moment in what you assumed was his head pulling away to check on something. “Should- he should be there any minute.”

There was the heady rush of elation, the swoop at the top of the roller coaster you were waiting on. It felt a lot like falling though. You dug your nails deeply into your leg to stay focused.

“Stay on the phone?” With me, but it felt a little too much like an admission to breathe it out, but he didn’t hesitate in his answer.

“Of course.” 

You breathed out low, letting the soft sounds from his side of the phone lull you back into a sort of calm numbness. You weren’t sure if a minute passed, or ten, but all too soon there was a tap at your window and you startled. 

Leo must have heard the way your breath hitched. “Raph?”

“Y-yeah,” you pressed your palm into you eye, trying to steady yourself. “Guess… I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah, yeah. You will.” He promised, stubborn enough to make you be the one to hang up. 

You don’ think Leo warned his brother, because when you drew back the curtain to unlock the window, you could feel Raph burning a stare into the side of your head despite the way you kept your eyes stubbornly on the tricky task of unlocking the latch one handed.

He took over the job as soon as you lifted it enough for him to wedge his fingers under the pane. The window rattled a bit when he shoved it upwards with a grunt, and you flinched at the sound, before cutting off all movement at the feel of a heavy hand settling on the tear tracks on your cheeks.

“Sweetheart?” He asked, thumb moving across skin made sensitive from you scrubbing at it. “Who- whose ass am I-”

“It’s nothing.” You whispered up at him, ducking away from his hand before chasing it with your own on instinct. You shivered at the way his hand swallowed yours whole and had grip left over for your wrist. “Just… feeling a bit-”

He pulled you closer, and you heard the sound you had gotten acquainted with the night they had watched over you, that rumble deep under his plastron that lingered at the edge of your auditory range. “Are you ok?”

No. “Yes.” Your eyes burned at the outright lie, and he leveled a shoulder against the edge of your window, raised his other hand to slide a knuckle under your chin. “Not… really.” 

You whispered the confession with eyes fixed just over his shoulder, and he tilted his head until all you could see was the color of his bandana. “Talked to… Leo, about it… a bit. Just- well.” You brought up your free hand to press at your forehead, and the hand under your chin slid away. “Not really sure what’s… going on. Sorry.”

“You don’t gotta be sorry.” Raph assured you, tugging your other hand down when you started scrubbing at your face again, grip gentle on your cast. “As long as no one needs a lesson on not messin’ with ya.”

You shivered at the reminder, and the feeling of his hands swallowing yours became just a little to visceral for a moment. When you tried to tug out of his grip, he let you, though his rough sigh showed his frustration at the action. 

You turned your head to the side to avoid the feeling that sound pulled up. “Can we… just go to the Lair?”

“Gotta say somethin’, first.” Raph argued, and you sighed roughly, but nodded for him to continue.

The ledge under the window creaked as he leaned through it, and you felt his fingers whisper over the nape of your neck before he cupped it, finger nudging the far side of your jaw to convince you to look at him.

You did, slowly, hand coming to absently rub at the thin skin above your cast where it suddenly itched. 

“The last thing I ever wanna do,” He spoke lowly, holding your gaze, “is hurt you, sweetheart. I need you to know that, ok?”

You stared into his green flecked eyes, the color starting to swim as you felt tears well up. You blinked hard, nodding when he made a questioning rumble, and didn’t stutter at the feel of his thumb wiping across your face.

“Good. S’long as you know that.” He blew out a breath. When you reopened your eyes, and gave you a small crooked smile that looked like a shadow of the one he normally threw your way. “You ready to get going?”

You nodded, voice still locked in your tight throat, and took his offered hand to help clamber over the sill, straddling the worn wood before he leveled his weight backwards and you had enough room to sling your good arm over his shoulders.

The rain was soft pricks of cold across the back of your neck, Raph’s shell icy where your arm was pressed against it. You had a moment to wonder if you should climb back inside for a coat, but Raph’s next words drowned out the thought.

“Hold on tight with that arm.” He warned, his own arm slotting under your thighs, hand curling around one knee while the other squeezed just under his shell. “Taking the fast route through the tunnels, so might be best to close your eyes, princess.”

You nodded into his neck, breathing out slow when he abruptly let go of the ledge and you both free fell through the fog.

Leo was the first one you saw when you and Raph entered the Lair through the turnstiles, arms crossed and swaying back and forth, eyes trained on the floor as he listened to Donnie speak. The purple turtle was leaning against the table, long legs crossed in front of him, gesturing with his hands as he made some point to the leader in blue.

“-perfectly normal to come away from that with trauma, we should have been on the look out for it.” 

Leo made some low sound at that, shaking his head in denial. “You know for a fact this wasn’t suppose to happen, whether or not we were on the look out for-” He broke off when he caught sight of the two of you, straightening and going still, and the change in his stance was enough to have Donnie turning around to squint as well.

“Mother hens say ‘what’.” Raph groused, large hand only tightening around the bend of your knee when you tried to slide out of his grip. The added height meant you didn’t have to crane up to meet the other two’s gaze, and after a moment you leaned back against Raph’s covered shoulder, let his shoulder pad bite into the slope of your head as Leo moved to stand in front of the red turtle.

“Hey.” He said, gaze flicking to your arm before settling on your face. You could see Donnie’s lips compress out of the corner of your eye, feel the tendons in Raph’s neck flex as he no doubt rolled his eyes.

You gave Leo a tight lipped smile, knew from the way both his and Donnie’s eyes jumped around your face that it was still rubbed raw from crying and scratching at it. “I was told there would be old movies and noodles?”

Leo blew out a breath at your words, his shoulders sagging, but Donnie stepped forward, hands careful as he gestured towards your cast and ran his thumbs along your limb when you held it outwards.

“Any new pain?” He asked, and when you shook your head no he seemed pleased, one hand sliding to cup along the back of your shoulder. “Well that’s good. I’ve projected that you should only have six more weeks in the cast, but I’d still like to take a proper look sometime tonight.”

The thought of going back into the sterile medical room had you swallowing heavily, pulse jumping as nausea rose up to press at your throat. “I don’t- I don’t think-”

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna.” Raph said from behind you, and your head dipped, pulling your arms back in to hold them tight against your sides. “Don doesn’t have’ta poke-”

You didn’t really hear what he was saying, mouth moving on autopilot, a small voice prompting you to explain instead of keeping everything wrong wedged up under your ribs. When you interrupted him, Raph’s jaw all but snapped shut. 

“-I don’t… want to go in that room again.” You said, more to the hand still locked around your knee than anyone else.

Donnie’s thumb rubbed a soothing stroke across your shoulder, and you made yourself relax into the motion, finding it comfortable when the digit repeated the trek. “Alright, that’s perfectly fine.” He bobbed his head, glasses catching on the light. “As long as there’s nothing new, it should be fine.”

You nodded to show you understood, and Leo spoke up again. “Mikey’s still getting the food, but would you mind waiting on the couch while we do some last minute cleaning?” 

You shook your head no, not missing the way glances were traded over your tendency to remain non-verbal. 

“Ok, then. I’ll start one of those movies to keep you company until we’re done.” Leo murmured, then led the way into the living room area, bending to shuffle an old tape out of its cover and into the player. You were distracted from watching him when Raph finally released your knee and let you slip onto the blanket covered couch. 

“Be right back.” He tapped the top of your head to make sure he had your attention. “Don’t go disappearin, kay?”

“Kay.” You made yourself say, just to break your silence. You were rewarded with a little quirk of his lips, and a searching look from Donnie before the three shuffled out of the room and left you with the tv turned down low.

The movie was about a blind samurai, you thought, the opening scene a little familiar. Leo must have shown it to you before, but the monotone coloring was soothing, the subtitles large, blocky and blurry before you closed your eyes and just listening to the way the voices ebbed and flowed, uncaring that you didn’t have any idea what they were saying.

It wasn’t… as difficult, now that you were here. As long as you didn’t go into the medical room. And it was good to see your friends again. Something tight slowly started to ease in your muscles. The Lair was always a safe space, had always been a place you looked forward to visiting when you were invited. You repeated the mantra as the music from the movie started to swell.

The skin above your cast itched again, and you snuck a finger into the space right at the edge, dragged a nail along the little area. A lull in the movie’s soundtrack, and you hummed, knowing a fight scene was coming up, before faint voices had your eyes cracking open.

You sat up slowly, turning just your head to better catch where the words were coming from. 

That was Donnie’s voice, just out of sight, and a harsh answering whisper that sounded like Raph had you moving on autopilot, feet quiet as you slipped a little rounding the couch. The whispers led you to the edge of Donnie’s half dome of monitors, the voices tucked behind the half closed door that led deeper into the Lab space.

“-get your head out your shell and stop pushing.” It was a patient tone you had heard a couple of times, a patent Leo Lecture, as Mikey called them behind his brother’s back to make you and Donnie snort with laughter.

Raph’s voice was much rougher in answering, “‘M not pushin, Fearless. All I did was tell her I didn’t want to hurt her, that’s it.”

“That’s obviously enough to set her off, Raphael.” Leo's stern words were followed by the sound of a palm shoving a face, and you wondered who shoved who before Donnie’s words cut between the two, and in-between your ribs.

“None of us thought it would turn out like this, but we shouldn’t jump to conclusions until we figure out what the problem is exactly. Obviously,” he lingered on the word, “she’s experiencing some fight or flight response concerning us, but it could be left over from the ‘experience’, not our feelings for-.”

“She doesn’t know anything about that.” Raph cut in. “Or it’s not what’s buggin’ her. Came right to me when I got there.”

Your heart stopped, then thundered over itself to make up the difference, and you swallowed hard enough to feel the pull in the tendons on either side of your throat protest. 

“Whether or not she knows, it’s enough that she’s on edge.” Leo’s voice came out clipped, tight, and you took a little step to the side, fingers finding the edge of Donnie’s desk as you struggled to listen through deep breaths. “We had a plan. It was working.”

“If that fucker hadn’t needed a beatdown, we wouldn’t be back to square one, but it is what-”

A hand, palm cool and callused, skirted up your cast free arm, and you shrieked, jumping backwards, hitting Donnie’s desk and sending half the bobbits strew across the surface clattering into the floor.

You were crying before you even registered it was Mikey, the orange turtle cooing and apologetic as he tightened his grip on you and tried calming you down. “Hey, babes- baby, I’m so sorry, please-”

You were shoving at him, ineffectively, palms scraping across the buckles of his backpack, but the sound of the heavy door you’d been eavesdropping at opening violently had you babbling out your own apologies at the green blobs with splashes of color across their faces crowded around you. Your heart thundered in your chest, color high in your face and nose running like a leaky faucet as they tried again and again to get you to calm down.

When they realized you weren’t calming down, and your breathing was turning into high pitched wheezes as your throat closed up in panic, you found yourself picked up, carried through the Lair. You squawked in panic when you thought they were heading for the medical room before whoever was holding you split to the right and the bathroom door loomed up instead.

It wasn’t until you were plopped down in front of one of the personalized sinks that you realized Leo had apparently lost the battle with his ‘get you someplace safe’ instincts, but his distraction with checking you over allowed you to shove your cast into his beak and duck into one of the widened bathroom stalls, effectively putting a barrier up between you and the four turtles.

You slid the flimsy lock home, and braced your arm across the door, shivering and heaving for breath between sobs. The four turtles were murmuring to themselves, not being quiet at all but the roaring in your ears kept you from making out words. With a stilted heave that whistled through your closed throat, you banged your fist against the door, the action sending vibrations through your muscles and tethering you to the ground.

The outside door shut, and for a moment you thought you were alone, that they had left you to settle. The thought had you pressing your forehead against the inside of your elbow, a stifled sob hitching your shoulders.

“Babes?” Michelangelo asked, and every muscles in your body went taunt once more.

He was quiet, though you could hear the sound of his palm sliding across the closed door, before the heavy sigh of him sitting outside the stall had you peering down, just seeing the bottom of his shell tucked against the tile.

“I’m sorry for grabbing you.” He said plainly, and as if a rope was cut, you breathed shakily into your arm, pressing your open mouth hard against your skin. You sunk down slowly, knowing he could hear you moving, until you crouched just behind him. If not for the door, you’d be splayed against his shell.

“You mean so much to me.” He whispered. “Mean so much to us. I should have thought before I grabbed you like that.”

You leaned your head forward, until the edge of your brow gently pressed against the cold plastic. It took two tries, but you finally pulled your mouth back from your skin, licked your lips, and whispered. “I wasn’t- suppose to find out yet, was I?”

You hoped he wouldn’t try and turn the question on its head, knowing he knew what you were talking about. His hearing was better than yours. Still, he made some low, wounded sound at the way your voice rasped broken and raw over the words.

“It certainly wasn’t how I envisioned it.” He offered with self deprecating humor, and you blinked, thinking the tone didn’t suit him at all. 

“Who- who else?” God, it hurt to talk. Your knee hit the tiled floor as you readjusted, and Mikey’s shell shifted on the other side of the thin barrier between the two of you.

“Um….” He trailed off, but you heard the silent all of us, thinking back to the way they’d held you together the night your arm, and heart, had broken.

“Oh- God.” You choked on the word, coughed and brought your arm back to your mouth to muffle the sound. 

Mikey moved, and for one terrified moment you thought he was going to try breaking the lock, but his steps moved away. Water running in the sink, and then he returned, shoved a glass under the little opening below the door.

You didn’t thank him as he returned to his spot, reaching down slowly and grabbing the chilled glass. 

He waited until he heard you take a few sips, before asking. “How’s your arm? You shoved it into Leo’s face pretty hard.”

“It hurts.” You breathed into the glass, aware you’d been holding the cast tight against your chest.

“I’m gonna go get Donnie.” Mikey’s hand appeared under the door, splayed against the tile as he pushed himself upright.

“Don’t-” You cut off, until his hand turned, brushed against your shoe. “-go.” You swallowed. “Please.”

“I won’t, babes,” he promised, “Just gonna go get Dee, ok?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see, and sat down heavily as you listened to him moving for the bathroom door.

It was… a lot, to take in. Too much to do so right now, with your arm burning and your mind swirling around like a shaken fishbowl. You wanted to bury it, until the realization felt a little more distant. A little more manageable. You couldn’t-

You brutally squashed that train of thought, sitting down heavily with only one arm to balance yourself with. You stretched one foot out first, then the other, sticking your sneakers out from under the partition and leaning forward to place your fevered, sticky cheek against the door again.

You must have spaced out, because the sound of Donnie’s knuckles rapping gently against the plastic had you startling, pulling your feet back against your chest and scooting to the corner.

“Dove?” He called, and you saw the shadow of his hand on the handle. “I’m going to open the door, ok?”

You hummed in acknowledgement, staring at your shoes as he opened the lock from the outside. The door squeaked when he cracked it open, and you looked up finally, meeting his hesitant smile from where he craned around the door.

“There you are. Are you ready to come out, now?”

You weren’t, but you still moved, letting him grip under your bicep and help you find your feet when you wobbled.

“Good, that’s good. Let’s sit on the edge of the tub.” He led you, and you felt more than saw Mikey hovering just out of your space, watching you with concerned eyes. 

When you were finally sitting on the tiled edge of the basin they called a bath, Donnie felt you for a moment, and Mikey returned to sit next to you, just shy of touching.

“Heya, babes. You’re ok.” He gave you a tilted smile, a little watery, and you scrubbed at your cheek at the realization you probably looked like you had indeed been blubbering in a bathroom stall.

“Alrighty, then.” Donnie was back, and you tipped your head towards him without thinking. His hand came up to grip your chin, tightening when you tried to flinch away. “It’s just me, dove, relax just a little bit.”

The cloth he wiped over your face was warm and sudsy, and you closed your eyes on instinct, leaning into his touch as he wiped away the gunk and the tear stains. The soft, repetitive motions had you sighing unconsciously, shoulders slumping in relief when the cloth ran over clean skin. 

Donnie traded the cloth for his thumbs, stooping to peer into your face as his wide digits scrubbed across your cheekbones. “There you go, that’s better, right?”

You nodded, feeling his knuckles hook around the edge of your jaw, before his snout swung to the side and he focused on your cast. “Can I take a look at that, now?”

You bit your lip, nodded again, free hand casting out to find Mikey’s arm and latch onto it when Donnie lowered his goggles and peered at your arm, hands softly probing at the ends of your cast.

Mikey captured your hand, let you squeeze his palm as Donnie worked. After a moment, his thumb came out to slide slowly over the back of your hand, and you looked up, caught on the baby blues that stared back.

The door to the bathroom creaked open, and Raph stuck his head in. “How’s it goin’ in here?”

“Fine, despite your lack of patience.” Donnie quipped without taking his eyes off his task, and the muscle in your cheek contracted at the heavy eye roll Raph gave his brother before his green eyes focused on you. 

“You alright, sweetheart?”

“…fine.” The word was scratchy, and you cleared your throat before trying again. “How’s… Leo?”

Raph gave you a smirk, “ah, he’ll live, he’s just getting some ice for it. Good shot, though.” 

Donnie made some little noise at your side, pulling your attention back to him. “I don’t think there’s any new damage.” He gave you a soft smile. “Just don’t go shoving your arm into anyone else’s face, kay?”

You sighed, tried to pull your hand from Mikey’s grip, but he wouldn’t allow you to, slotting your fingers between his to maintain the grip. “How bout we go get those noodles before they get cold, babes? I got the spicy ones you like.”

Your stomach rebelled at just the mention of food, but there were sharp eyes on your face, taking notice of every twitch. “I think… maybe just the movie, Angelo.”

Mikey, bless him, looked happy you were just agreeing, tugged you to your feet and almost into Donatello before the taller turtle ducked seamlessly out of your space. 

“Wait, wait-” your head heaved at the quick movements, and Mikey lurched to a stop, that concerned look back. “Just, slow, Mikey. Slow.”

You… weren’t just talking about heading to the living room area, and while it might have gone right over Mikey’s head, you saw the traded looks between the other two turtles, and it made you swallow heavily. No time for that now. The thought got sloshed back to the back of your head when Mikey’s free had touched your shoulder and led you backwards into the main room. 

[blackwomanwriter]

"Mine"

Read: Part I, Part II

It's been a minute, but I finally wrote something. And of course, I had to go back to this series because there is something about Thomas Shelby. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and let me know your favorite part. Happy Reading!

He entered quietly like he was on a mission. Although this one was unlike the ones he had performed during the war and after. No, this mission was different. Very different. Yet, Tommy performed it with the same intensity.

Eyes narrowed on the quiet interior, clocking each entry point and exit way, like a soldier, he assessed his environment. He hadn’t been in a house this small since his childhood. Even back then, the space had felt cluttered and cramped. Too noisy to think. Too busy to breathe. The stench of his father’s hangover in the air before it disappeared altogether.

He remembered talking Arthur out of trying to find their father. A man unworthy of carrying - no, sharing his surname. Tommy tensed his jaw, moving past the memory. Instead, he raised a brow at how devastatingly clean the entire place felt. Physically tidy, but clean in a way that made the house feel empty. Unlived. Unloved. Cold. The opposite of everything he thought of her. She was warm. Tender. Inviting.

Moving to the narrow staircase, he could hear the water running. The pipes pushing the water through the house. She was here. She was alive. She was avoiding him - again.

He hiked up the stairs, stepping one foot in front of the other. Like a soldier, he kept moving. He carried on with the task before him. His mind focused on the mission.

Opening the door quietly, Tommy leaned on the door frame - taking in the sight before him. Curved hips that were fuller since he had last seen her. A waist that tempted him to wrap his arms around her. It was now that he reached in his pocket for a cigarette.

“Jesus, Tommy,” she shrieked. The click of his lighter giving him away.

She rested a hand on her heart, shuddering as she closed her eyes.

Unbothered, he traced the stick along his bottom lip before lighting it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She pinched the bridge of her nose, as her breath steadied.

“You haven’t been taking my calls,” he stated. Gaze unchanged. Smoke filling the air.

“I’m in mourning,” she enunciated, grabbing a towel to cover herself. She didn’t bother hiding her frustrations as she shoved past him. She was angry. He liked her angry.

At first, when she didn’t answer his call, he had briefly worried that she was sad. Tearful over the sudden death of her husband, who the police found floating in the river after a night of drinking. His death ruled accidental according to the official report. A drunken man’s blunder. An unsurprising end of life. An expected death for a man who drank as much as her late husband did.

An easy lie to believe, but she knew the truth. The greatest mistake the dead man had made was marrying Thomas Shelby’s favorite whore. It was her mistake more than his. She knew what she was doing when she said yes. The risks she was taking by marrying while Tommy was off in America. Her moment of rebellion had cost a life.

Although, they had gotten past the letter. She hadn’t returned to him. She wanted to keep her promise. To stay married. To honor what was left of her vows. She wouldn’t work for him. She wouldn’t see him. The temptation of losing herself in him made her stay away. She had already ruined the sanctity of her marriage by sleeping with him in his office. She didn’t want to continue making a mockery of the words she vowed before God and man.

She was suddenly religious, which amused Tommy. He thought it was a game, but she clung on to every word spoken by the priest. At the funeral, she remembered his words at the wedding. How he had pressed upon her the importance of repentance. Before Thomas Shelby, she had been a good girl. Never told a lie. Prayed before bed. Devout daughter. Devoted sister. An upstanding and honorable member of her community. He had changed her. Corrupted her. Loved her. Destroyed her.

“It’s been weeks,” Tommy stated coolly.

She ignored him. Her hands focused on the cream she was applying to her skin. Smooth skin. Soft skin. Skin his lips remembered. The taste imprinted on his tongue. Tommy exhaled.

His patience was wearing thin. He loved her. She loved him. He figured out how to help her keep her promise and allow him to keep his. Her husband was dead, and she was free.

“I see you’re eating again,” he quipped, trying to stir a reaction out of her. She didn’t disappoint. He ducked as the bottle of cream nearly struck his head.

“I went from being a whore to being a widow.”

“Sounds like the beginning of a book.” Tommy shrugged then ducked again. This time, she threw a shoe.

“At least I can bargain my way into heaven as a whore,” she resolved, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Is that what your priest tells you?” He brought the cigarette back to his lips for another drag.

He knew. Of course, he knew. She wondered if he was having her followed again. How else would he know about her visits to the church. Her talks with the priest.

“My greatest sin is you,” she finished her thought.

Her words were meant to be cutting, but Tommy remained unbothered. His eyes stoic, jaw set as if he was watching a horse race. He brought his cigarette to his lip, letting it dangle as he neared her. 

She stood up, ready to shove past him again, but he grabbed her forearm. Her eyes flared up at him as she tried to loosen his grip, but he remained firm.

“You want to talk about sins, ey?” He whispered against her ear. “You married a man who picked a pint over his life. A man who stowed you away in a house he couldn’t bear to live in himself, while he stayed three doors down with his brother’s wife.”

She frowned, hearing him confirm a suspicion she wouldn’t allow herself to believe. When he stopped coming home, she told herself that he was drunk at a pub or sleeping his hangover off at his mother’s house.

“A man who lost his wages betting on fights.”

So that’s where all their money had gone, she thought. Her face didn’t flinch as Tommy confirmed another truth. Her late husband was just another man who had let her down. All the words she threw at Tommy about him being a good man were lies. He was just better at hiding his wrongs.

Tommy softened his grip on her hand, as he relayed the sin that he couldn’t forgive. The sin that forced him to intervene without thinking of the consequences. “A man who was willing to sell his wife to settle his debts.”

Her eyes widened then glazed over. The shred of innocence he once found in those warm brown irises was quickly disappearing. He cursed at himself for the letter, but it wasn’t just the letter. It was the months he left her wondering if he could ever love again. It was the voice that told him to push her away. She married the man because of him.

Tommy released her hand. There was a part of him that wished he hadn’t been so honest. Her hardened eyes told him just as much. The look on her face was one he had seen before in the women who dared to love him. When his darkness eventually shadowed their light. When his world swallowed them whole.

She reached for the cigarette hanging from his mouth. Taking a long drag, she exhaled. The smoke covering Tommy’s face.

“My sin was marrying the wrong man,” she concluded.

His thumb brushed her skin, remembering when her lips pressed against his in hunger. His lip bleeding as their need took precedence. Her lip bruised from his appetite. Even when he had her, he needed more. Tracing her lip, he gently placed the cigarette between his fingers then lifted it to his mouth. The first puff was for the memory. The second was for his patience.

“No, my god doesn’t care about sins.”

“I didn’t think you believed in,” sighing, she looked up, “anything.”

Tommy closed his eyes. His patience wearing on him again. “You’re moving out of this house. You’re coming back to work, and you’re going to answer when I call.”

“Of course, Mr. Shelby,” she answered.

His jaw ticked at the use of his surname. The smoke from his cigarette creating a haze over his eyes. “Don’t start.”

“Tell me what your god thinks about whores.”

“Everyone’s a whore,” he muttered, as he moved toward the door, already thinking of his next order of business. The kiss would have to wait.

“Is that what your wife thinks?”

Tommy stopped walking. Leaning his hand on the door frame, he closed his eyes. His nose flared. His annoyance growing with her disobedience. He seemed to attract women who were determined to do the opposite of what he asked.

“She confronted me. Told me to stay away,” she admitted, and in that second, he realized why she ignored him. She was no longer his secret. He made his affection too obvious.

“I’ll take care of it,” he firmly stated, leaving no room for further questions. Yet, she continued.

“Does she follow any of the other girls or is it just me?” She asked.

He wasn’t ready to admit that there weren’t any other girls. That there hadn’t been other girls for a while. From the moment he declared his love, Tommy had made himself hers - only hers.

“You love me, but there are others,” she whispered. “I love you, but all I do is think of them. To be with you, I have to worry about them. I have to wait to be yours.”

“Is that what you’re doing then - waiting?” He asked, closing the distance between them.

Her hand dropped to her middle and Tommy’s eyes followed. He stared, then frowned before bringing his gaze back to her. “How far along?”

Her eyes softened. The grief coloring every muscle in her face. Tommy closed his eyes. She was in mourning. He understood her words clearly now. It was moments like this that made him miss Polly. She would have known.

Tommy muttered something in his Romanian tongue as he sat on the bed. He stamped his cigarette out in silent rage. There was never an end. Death seemed to find him at every turn. It hunted him. Craved him.

His hands went to her robe. Slowly, he pulled the fabric, revealing her body. A body that had prepared itself to carry his child. A body that had nourished him back to life. His fingers moved to her belly, tracing the skin there. The soft, smooth skin.

He looked up at her and saw the tears she wouldn’t shed. How long had she held them in, unable to weep. Unable to speak. Unable to fully mourn. Wrapping his arms around her middle, he pulled her in and kissed the place his hands had touched. He tried to do what she had done for him; he tried to make it okay for her to feel.

“I’m fine, Tommy. It’s better this way,” she said, her voice cold and void of any emotion.

“When?” He whispered, knowing it was his, and yet wondering how he’d missed so much in so little time.

“It doesn’t matter,” she stiffened. “It’s gone now, and I need to move on.”

She gave him a second to make peace with the reality she had lived with for weeks. Then, she moved from his touch, closing her robe as she distanced herself. Loving him was painful enough without the added grief of their lost child.

“You shouldn’t have come,” she folded her arms, avoiding his gaze.

Tommy raised a brow, staring at her before glancing around the room. It was as cold as the rest of the house - bare of any details or remnants of her. Standing up, Tommy found a new mission. He moved past her in search of anything that made the four walls more of a home.

His hands traced the metal bed frame. His fingers trailing the linen and cloth. He opened windows and tapped on wooden walls. He inspected the little furniture in the room, unsatisfied with the results.

“Tommy,” she started to say as he pushed open a wardrobe, finding it empty.

She was leaving. She planned to leave London. She planned to leave him. The thought stung in Tommy’s mind as he opened drawer after empty drawer. His anger taking center stage.

“Tommy,” her voice raised with concern.

He shoved the empty wardrobe back, watching as it crashed against the wall.

“Stop,” she yelled, as he shoved the wardrobe again and again. His grief coloring his anger. His anger coloring his grief. Her heart jumped as the wooden drawers finally cracked under the pressure. The splitting wood overshadowing her screams as the wardrobe completely fell apart.

“Tommy,” she cried, rushing to stop him from breaking the wood further. “Stop.”

“Please,” she whispered. Her plea full of a love she couldn’t deny him.

He exhaled. The sound of his heightened breath taking all the space in the room. His anger taking all the air. Tommy closed his eyes. The familiar whispers creeping in his head, telling him to put out the fire. To walk over to the other side. To let go of this life. To finally rest.

She swallowed, unsure of what to tell him, and yet, she persisted. “My sister found work outside of London. She thought it’d be good for me…”

Tommy shook his head, looking up at the ceiling.

“I wanted to tell you,” she stopped, lowering her head. There was nothing to say.

He scoffed. “Tell me.”

It felt like deja vu to hear him utter those words to her again. To hear the same command. The same request he’d asked from her when she told him about the wedding. Yet, this time, there was nothing left to say.

She stared at the back of his head. Her fingers yearning to brush his hair or wrap themselves around him. Her lips longing to kiss the nape of his neck.

Closing her eyes, she confessed. “There’s no life for me here.”

“You’re not leaving.” He pushed back, ignoring her words. “You’re mine.”

“When?” She sighed. “When am I yours, Tommy?”

He lifted his head, staring at the wall. His mind moving a mile a minute. She couldn’t leave him. His heart wouldn’t allow it. His body would protest. His hunger was contained to her. His thoughts all went back to her. How many minutes until he can think of her? How many meetings until he can dream of her? He suffered without her to be with her. Every hour he was away was an hour he promised to give to her.

He was a selfish man, who wanted what he wanted. A man who endured wars and monsters disguised as men. A cursed man. A broken man. A suffering man. A man who didn’t deserve her, and yet, he wanted her. He needed her. She was the cigarette on his lips. The pain tablets in his pocket. The shirt on his back. The razor blade on his cap. She couldn’t leave him.

“When your wife is gone? When you’re fucking other women?” Her voice continued in the background, but Tommy was half-listening. “When you’re bored? When the nightmares come? When the work is done? When am I yours?” She asked again, although there was no anger in her question.

“When you married him, you were mine. Every time you put on his fucking ring; you were mine.” His brows furrowed as he reached into his side pocket for a cigarette. “When you moved into this house, you were mine. When you had my fucking child inside of you, you were mine.” Tommy sniffed, turning to face her. “From the moment you entered my office, you belonged to me.”

She stiffened, as she traced her empty ring finger. His crassness didn’t bother her as much as his refusal to listen. He disregarded her words, only focusing on what he wanted. It was why she didn’t want to tell him about the baby. He would have stuck her in a big house that he would never visit. Given her everything except the thing she wanted, which was him. But now that nightmare wasn’t even a reality because she’d lost their child. She'd lost a piece of him.

“Is that all it takes…” she started to argue, but words were pointless. Their arguments were pointless. They had a love that was cursed from inception.

In this life, he was promised to another. In the next, he would be reunited with another. In life and death, she had no place in Thomas Shelby’s life. Her love for him didn’t save their unborn child. It reminded her that their love had no place to grow. It was wilted, and no amount of money or prayer could save them.

“You’re not leaving,” Tommy declared, cornering her until she had no choice but to look up at him.  Her brown eyes sinking into him, full of a love he didn’t deserve.

“You made me a promise,” he whispered. His jaw tensing as he remembered that night in his office when he had made himself hers. When he had promised to live. To stop craving death. The gods had given him a second chance with her.

“Tommy,” she protested, but he continued.

“You gave me your word.” His lips brushed hers and her body shuddered. “You made promises to me. Promises I intend to collect.”

His hand slipped down to her robe, loosening the ties. His fingers marking a trail from her chest to her neck to her lips. “Promises you agreed to keep.”

She folded under his touch. Her head falling on his chest as she exhaled. Quick, short breaths that made Tommy pull her in closer.

“And what of your promises?” She grabbed his fingers before they could slip between her thighs.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, trying not to smirk. “Remind me again.”

Shaking her head, she moved from his hands. Her heart ached, but it would always ache whether she was with him or not. He was not wrong. It belonged to him. From the moment she entered his office, her heart had become his. Knowing he was promised to another, it still beat for him. It yearned for him. It acted without consequence.

Thou shall not commit adultery. A vow she’d broken within a month of knowing Thomas Shelby. But her heart didn’t care. It didn’t care about the commandments she broke. Her sins were plenty but her heart was full. Full of love for a man who couldn’t confess his love until she married another.

Turning away from him, she closed her robe. Her hand wanted to follow the trail he etched on her skin, but she didn’t. She could hear him lighting a cigarette. His eyes on her. His eyes undressing her. His eyes claiming her as his.

She wanted to run, but her heart wouldn’t let her. Instead, she willed herself to face him. Smoke in the air. His scent in every crevice of the cramped room. She inhaled and tried to tell him again. Her thoughts were on her lips, and yet, nothing.

Offering her his cigarette, Tommy stepped towards her. “Leaving London won’t cure you of me.”

She reached for the smoke. Grateful for the distraction. For the heat. For the vapors. For the way her lungs would expand and contract. For the cigarette they shared between them. His lips on her lips. Her lips on his.

“That priest of yours won’t help you either,” he added.

“What is the cure then?”

Tommy leaned into her. His hands on her waist, slowly moving her robe up past her knees then her thighs. “First, you have to stop running.”

“Running?” She asked, confused by his accusation.

“The wedding. The job. This house.” He counted. “And now these plans of leaving London.” His hands pushed the fabric of her robe from her skin, leaving her naked before him. “You mustn’t run.”

“And what if I do?” She questioned, not allowing her nudity to dissuade her.

Tommy brushed her cheek before taking the cigarette from her lips. “I’ll find you. Remind you of where you belong.”

“And where is it that I belong?” She asked. Her eyes gentle and pleading. 

He brought her hand to his chest, placing it where his heart lay. “Here. Right here.”

She swallowed her nerves, terrified of letting her heart speak. “Second?” She went back to his list.

“Second.” He took a drag, exhaling the smoke before he continued, “You must know, I get scared,” he admitted, and she finally understood why he’d written her that letter. Thomas Shelby was scared of loving her. The first woman he loved died in his arms because of a bullet meant for him. Love was something to fear, and he was terrified.

“Now, it’s unpleasant and it’s unkind. But when I am…”

“I’ll remind you,” she finished, “of where you belong.”

Tommy cupped her face, placing a kiss on her head. “Good.”

She closed her eyes. Her heart too fragile for Thomas Shelby’s confession. He hadn’t proposed, yet they were already exchanging vows.

“Last.” He leaned his head on hers. “And the most important.”

“Yes,” she breathlessly whispered.

Tommy’s finger traced her bottom lip before he kissed her. His lips hungry to taste her. Selfish in his desire - his consumption of her. He groaned when he felt her kiss him back. Her own need just as desperate as his. She moaned when their lips parted, disappointed by her body’s need for air.

“I promise to have you pregnant by spring.”

Her eyes lit up as she laughed for the first time in months. She chuckled, not taking him seriously. “Tommy.”

“A boy,” he declared, wrapping his arms around her middle. “He’ll have your eyes and my charm.”

She giggled, playfully hitting his chest as he picked her up and placed her on the bed. Her smile widening as she gazed at him. She was returning to herself - returning to him. Weeks of grief slowly thawing from her heart.

Tommy stamped out his cigarette before joining her with a kiss. His body on top of hers. His hands on either side of her head. His mind fixated on the softness of her skin.

“I’ll be back at work in the morning,” she whispered in between kisses.

“You won’t be working anymore.”

She pulled away from his kiss, frowning at him. “What are you on about, Tommy?”

He sighed, already knowing he was about to start another fight. “I won’t have you working with a child of mine inside of you.”

“What?”

“You’ll be carrying my son,” Tommy repeated.

Closing her eyes, she realized he was serious. Of course, he was serious. She wondered how long he’d been planning to get her pregnant again.

“I don’t deserve you,” Tommy kissed her lips. “But, I promised to give you a life worthy of everything you are.” He reminded her. “I promised to let you in my head. I promised to do more than just wait to die. I promised to live.”

She wanted to be angry with him, but he remembered. Every word. Every promise. Everything they had discussed in his office.

“I promised to keep you safe.”

“To make us safe,” she corrected.

He kissed her again. “There are no other girls,” Tommy confessed, reminding her of his other promise. Tommy Shelby was hers.

Grabbing his collar, she pulled him into a long kiss. “No more running,” she vowed.

Tommy smiled. “No more.” He pressed his lips on hers before adding, “You’re mine.”

This time, she didn’t argue, simply letting him kiss her. “Now, where were we, Mrs. Shelby?” He asked, slipping his fingers between her thighs.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was a long one. If you made it to the end, thank you for reading! Let me know your favorite part.

[bedoballoons]

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️

{༻~How do I escape this now~༺}

CW: Angst to fluff, Gn! Reader whos comfort language is physical, reader is mentioned to have anxiety and depression! Very slight mention of a panick attack in Tighnaris.

A/n: This is completely self indulgent, it's been so long since I've written anything and posted it so this is a little short. Just a little comfort for a mentally struggling reader, in case anyone else has been feeling this way too. You're not alone okay and I hope you feel better soon, you're amazing and no one should say otherwise. If you ever need someone to listen, I'm here. <3

(Includes: Lyney, and Tighnari)

𑁍༄Lyney:

You pulled yourself into a tighter ball, making it harder to breath even though it was already a struggle...you could feel the area under you head, wet with tears that clung to your face...what was happening. When had things started to hurt so bad...when had your mind started to think the way it did now, you shut your eyes tighter, wishing you just didn't exist...that everything you'd ever said could just be forgotten, there would be no stress anymore and no more hiding under the blankets so no one would see you upset.

"My love..."

You audibly sucked in a breath, like being silent would make him think you weren't there...you didnt want him to see you like this...you didnt want him to worry...to feel like he had to help you even though he had other things to do. "I'm okay, just taking a nap Lyney. Super tired..." You tried, but the rasp in your voice and the sad tone in your words instantly gave you away.

You heard him sigh and listened as his footsteps grew closer...until suddenly you felt his weight all around you. He'd hugged you along with the blanket and just, held you like that. Never forcing you to talk or show your puffy eyes and sniffly nose. Never forcing you out of the room or to try harder to be happier, just held you comfortingly until you moved. It helped...infact it didn't take long for you to calm down after that, tell him how you were feeling and let him help you...let him tell you you're beautiful and that he loves you. Let him listen to everything because he simply wanted to...let him in and never have to face everything alone again.

𑁍༄Tighnari:

How long had you been in his arms...minutes? Hours? Days? You had no idea...you'd lost track in seconds, but honestly...it didn't matter anyway. You just needed a little more, just needed to hear the soft hum in his voice a little longer...just needed to feel the gentle circles he rubbed into your back a little longer...was that selfish...were you annoying him...should you put on that tough face you always wore and say you felt better...even when you didn't?

"I...I'm feeling better Tighnari, I'll-"

"Mhmm, you know I can hear your heart rate speed up when you're lying right? You don't have to lie lovely...I'm not going anywhere...and there's no where I'd rather be then with you, helping you feel better...calm down after the hundreds of near panick attacks you almost had today. The only thing I want is to see you happy and I mean really happy, not pretend happy..." He pulled away from you slightly so he could place a light kiss on your puffy cheek...

It was hard, to accept his words...to think he truly wanted to be there with you even when you were at your worst, but even as you once again rested your head on him and let your emotions all out...he didn't dare move. He wouldn't, not until you truly felt like you could face the world again...and it only reinstilled that faith that he'd never leave you to handle everything all alone. You'd always have him. No matter what.

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Love you all~*⁠.⁠✧

[lovelyflora21]

Strangers

Summary: She was still herself, he was still him. In the same place. Yet, isn't it strange how people can change?

Pairing: Leon S Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Tags: Angst, hurt, no happy endings (?) 

A/n: A rather lengthy continuation to my previous fic, inspired by Celeste - Strange. Would recommend listening to the song whilst reading this to really get the feel of it ;)

Wc: 1,8k

P.s. Let me know if anyone wants to be added to the tag list! <3

Tag list: @lysa1201 @lysol1201

I tried for you. 

What Leon said that night, the way he looked at her with complete utter disdain; mixed with a cacophony of heavy breathing and slurred speech of spiteful, venomous words spewed her way–safe to say, it was enough to turn that tiny little voice inside her head louder. Ten times louder than the conscience, the soft spot she’s always held for him. 

That maybe everything she did for him was, in fact, all in vain. That it was a complete waste. She was wasting her precious, precious time and energy; her life, on a drunkard. An asshole of an alcoholic, once applauded for his bravery and prowess as an agent–akin to that of America’s very own zombie-killing, man-made Superman. 

God, mama was right! I should’ve dumped him. What was I thinking?!

Were what had crossed her mind as she skipped down the stairs of his apartment’s fifth floor’s stairwell. She clung onto her bag and pride, more on her pride (what was left of it anyways) than her bag really, as she rummaged through the tote bag for her car keys. She had tears welling up in her eyes, her throat burning and constricting in a measly effort of holding herself together. From sobbing her poor heart out. From breaking down on the stairs and pitying herself.

Tried to see through all the smoke and dirt. It wouldn't move.

Everything else was a blur then. The drive back home. The whole thought process on deciding to finally and completely vanishing from his life. All that in a span of minutes. Most would criticize her for being too overboard with her impulsivity, for making a big deal out of nothing! 

Oh spare me the theatrics! She could still hear Leon’s voice; nagging in the back of her mind, it would have been his reaction, if he had known of what she was about to do to him or saw an ounce more of her true reaction in response to his cruelty. 

But as she drove through the traffic and streets of DC’s avenues, her heavy-with-tears eyes dropped to see his name popping up on her phone; his number texting and calling her numerous times–his picture flashing, showing off his stupid fucking cocky grin–it silenced the other voices that were doubting her decision. And suddenly what she was about to do was justified and she saw nothing wrong with it. 

So when it turned red, she reached for her phone; looked at his number and picture one last time before she blocked it–blocked him, and shoved the phone back inside the bag. 

The first night, she couldn’t cry at all. She tossed and turned in bed then eventually fell asleep. But the next few days? Oh they were torture. Hardly sleeping, hardly eating; the blunt of the impact finally hitting her head on. Her feelings, emotions and sound mind were colliding against one another. Everything was everywhere all at once. Anger, disappointment, hurt, sadness, grief and shame. Surging all at once then fading away just as quick into numbness and denial. Then she’d crash out again, and again, and again. Rinse and repeat. 

So she did what Leon S Kennedy would’ve done. Drown herself in work, overtime after overtime. Back to back meetings, projects, RnDs. Anything to get her mind off of him and that night. One thing for sure though, she was done. 

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Before she knew it, she earned herself a promotion, alongside an offer to relocate somewhere else; she was given the liberty to pick the spot. To pick which branch of her office she would be relocating to. 

Without doubt and further, deeper questioning; she said yes. Again, some would have considered her impulsivity a major flaw but to be fair, this was the opportunity she had been looking for. Especially after that night and after Leon. 

Albeit the suffering and grief it brought upon her; that night brought her an epiphany. A revelation, that her whole life had revolved around him and him alone. She was never the center of her own universe, no–it had been Leon. 

It was a mistake. 

So now, with Leon gone and out of the picture; she had nothing to revolve around. There was nothing left for her here anyways…

She was never one for spirituality but it got her thinking– that the opportunity presented itself just in time. It was perfectly aligned with her, as if the universe had given her its blessings to move forward. Even without him.

As if it was a way for the universe to tell her.

He’s very dreamy, but he is not the sun. You are.

So when it was all said and done, when everything’s packed into the back of a moving truck and she’d bid farewell to friends and colleagues; she moved. Out of DC and to Francisco. 

And things were okay again. Late nights weren’t so heavy and she wasn’t so burdened with all-consuming thoughts of him. Mornings came by easier for her. She began liking the way coffee smelt, the way the flowers bloomed and the plants flourish, she began liking the taste of sourdough bread with runny eggs on top.

Casual dates were a thing for her now. Enjoying herself and her time as an individual rather than a thing attached to him. 

And before she knew it, a year had passed. 

Life was great. She was flourishing, bright and blooming. 

The sun was high above, her locks cascaded like waters down her neck. She wore a white dress, the patterns were small flowers in the color of muted salem. She had the day off, needed to pick up on groceries and flowers for her vase in the living room and kitchen island. She’d grown to fall for flowers ever since she’d moved to Francisco. 

As she was looking at the arrangement of fruits set before her, smiling at the older lady; she couldn’t help but to notice a man staring at her then approaching her. 

Hey there.

So when her eyes found him, clad in blue instead of black; they widened for a second. Taking in the phantom of what once was the man she’d loved and devoted herself to. 

They stood there, just…staring…

Then there was silence. 

Say, isn't it strange? I am still me You are still you.

—

So they sat there, across one another. This was their second meeting. In a cafe, her favorite. She’d suggested the place. They opted for the outdoor seating instead, feeling as though the walls around them were too overwhelming for her. Too suffocating, especially when she would be near him. 

Her white shirt was slightly crumpled, tucked inside her blue denim jeans that clung to her perfectly. Her bag was set by her ankle, under the table.

She crossed one leg over the other, her eyes never leaving Leon’s. Who had his own ocean blue eyes on her.

Leon had begged her for this chance. Said he wanted to talk to her, needed to talk to her. And she gave him the same grace she would’ve wanted people to give him. Less of a second chance and more towards the urge for a proper closure, really. 

Leon Scott Kennedy was never one to be curious. He’d learnt from his line of work that curiosity can and will kill the cat. And yet when it came to her, he was as curious as ever. So many things he wanted to say, to ask, to question, to find out, to know and last but never should be the least; to understand. Why did she disappear on him like that? Where has she been?Why San Francisco? How did she end up here? Is she with someone else? Is that why she was here now? Was she now a happily-married woman living the white picket fence dream?

But only one thing came out of his now slightly chapped-lips and dry mouth.

I am so sorry. 

Back to our roots What did we lose? What did we lose?

He began, stammering as he leant forward across the table that barred him from feeling her warmth. From feeling her kindness, her love, her tenderness and the familiarity of her.

It’s in the past.

Her voice was…soft. But it lacked the love and gentleness she once held for him. Her eyes were distant…as if staring at a far away dream instead of him.

I shouldn’t have said what I said, I was an alcoholic and an asshole and I didn’t deserve you.

You really didn’t. 

Then there was silence again. Leon’s breath caught as he heard her utter those simple words with such indifference it sent shivers down his spine. 

There was no malice, no anger, no bitterness lacing her words yet all the same it wounded him so. In ways he never thought nor imagined possible. 

Isn’t it strange? How people can change. 

Give me one more chance, let me make things right. 

His pleading was met with silence. Then there was a soft tapping noise against the table, Leon’s blue orbs flitted to her manicured nails for a second before coming back to her face. They were painted beige.

If I could, I’d pull your strings for one more dance.

I…I’ve changed. I’m not drinking anymore and I’ve been going to therapy and I’m not missing out on them anymore. I swear.

It was pitiful how he dragged on and on about how he was a changed man. But seeing she was not budging at all, made Leon’s stomach twist and turn. 

I can’t.

Tell me what I need to do to make this work, to make things right.

She simply shook her head, a defeated and reserved smile graced her lips. God, those same lips Leon had missed so much. How he wished he hadn’t taken her for granted. 

It’s for the best.

And with that, she gathered her bag and herself. She mustered up enough courage and willpower to heave herself up to her feet. Even outside with the wind breezing past them and the world still revolving around them, she felt just as suffocated and as still as ever. She refused to look him in the eyes, refused to study the way his face fell and his eyes glazed with tears. 

I look at you, with nothing to say.

Leaning down for one last kiss, she placed a chaste and small peck on his cheek. Feeling the stubble caress her skin and mouth. She dared not bid him farewell, nor did he. Neither lovers dared to lift their faces to meet one another’s gaze, afraid it might shatter whatever defense they had left.

Isn’t it strange? How people can change From strangers to friends Friends into lovers

So she walked away, never looking back. 

And strangers again.

[billiedeansbitch]

Alrighty then i have another request for larissa, she and the reader are just fuck buddies or something of the sort, they are having sex one night and larissa says “u’re such a fucking whore” or something degrading and r just says “i love you” back and then you continue how you think it would unfold hehe

Have a good one!

𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

(𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

a/n: i feel like this isn't my best work but here it is. anyway it contains smut, degrading, mommy kink if u squint a little, spitting kink...and of course, some fluff.

warning/s: NSFW.

It was Outreach Day. The day. It was what everyone in the whole Nevermore Academy was waiting for; students and faculties alike. It was the buzzing topic for days. And you knew Larissa—Principal Weems, was equally as enthusiastic about it, too. 

As for the students, participation was obligatory, unless they had a valid reason not to partake in any activities, and to those whose reasons were granted reasonable by the headmistress herself, got to stay behind which now led to your task for the day, and that was to supervise these students, make sure they weren’t faking any sudden illness or inflicting trouble to others.

Larissa wasn’t expecting you to volunteer but you did. Understanding, the woman merely sighed in defeat, nodding her head as she did so before moving on. 

After the meeting, she came by your desk to express her disappointment and confess that she had planned a quick excursion to the weathervane with you, but she had no intention of changing your mind. Your heart leaped with joy at that. Like a date, you wondered if that was what she meant. But then as if she had heard your thoughts she quickly added, “Friendly,” somewhere in the middle of her sentence, making you feel foolish for still holding out hope that the situation with the principal of Nevermore would change.

You gave her a sad, little smile and suggested she could bring Miss Thornhill if she so wished for friendly company, but she declined and told you she only wanted you. It confused you.

It wasn’t the first time she exhibited these confusing signs. Little miss strictly-no-endearment had been generous with pet names lately, calling you dear, honey, sugar, sweetheart, all the sweet things she could think of with a smile on her lips. You were sure she had noticed the way your breath would stop, and your cheeks go pink whenever she would carelessly call you things, but everytime it happened, she wouldn’t dare say a word and just go on. 

It all stemmed back to the first night when she didn’t try to come up with an excuse to dodge your request for her to stay the night and sleep in your bed with you breaching one of the rules—her rules. Even yet, you were still unsure about your relationship with her and you clung to the faint hope that if you prayed fervently enough, she may suddenly change her mind about everything. 

You made the decision to take a walk around the school in the afternoon, immediately following your meal, to see how everyone was doing.

After ensuring that everyone was acting fairly behaved with no underlying malice, you turn toward the path of your office to finish some paperwork. You were, however, abruptly stopped in your tracks by the audible tittle-tattle of pupils. The noise grew louder by the second until the very hall you were standing in was flooded by the Nevermore students. 

In the corner of your eyes you saw her, striding toward the direction of her office, until she was gone from your line of sight and her office door slammed close, echoing and spooking everyone in the hallway including you. 

Something was wrong. Larissa Weems was evidently fuming. Who the fuck dare screwed the Outreach Day? 

Funny enough, Wednesday Addams went in after Larissa, sporting a scowl and a cold glare. So, Wednesday was the culprit. You could only shake your head in disbelief at how the young pupil was able to religiously piss the woman off everyday. 

You resumed walking, passing her office on your way. You tried to at least think much less of it—much less of her as you work, try to be as productive as you intended, but your brain refused to think and focus on anything else that didn’t revolve around her, it only wanted her.

With a sigh, you stopped grading the papers and just sat there, letting your mind float around her. It was a little later in the afternoon when you decided to succumb to these thoughts.

You smoothened the creases of your pants, adjusted your blouse and fixed your overall appearance. You grabbed a random folder from your desk, just something to hold onto, and marched to the Principal’s office.

You came to halt directly in front of her door, at which point you held your fist in midair while still debating whether it would be better to leave her alone to handle it or to go throw yourself in her way and be the destruction she so sorely needed at the time.

Sheriff Galpin and the Principal had just completed discussing the situation inside the office. He rose from his seat, tipped his head and made to leave. He opened the door to find you right there, clutching the folder close to your chest. Too late to turn back now.

His presence didn’t matter, you stepped aside, he didn’t say anything and walked away, his boots thudding the floor. 

You found her blue eyes staring at you, “May I come in, Principal?” The formalities were for anyone who might be listening closely. She summoned you in and you closed the door. 

You allowed your shoulders to fall and your posture to relax in the seclusion of her office. You knew well how every interaction with the Sheriff left her blood boiling, quickly you asked her if she was okay with genuine concern lacing your voice.

It was a mistake, you thought, as soon as the biting response reached your ears, “Do I look okay?” you hated how it made you flinch.

“No...”

She saw it, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just… I’m exhausted.”

“And furious…” It earned you a glare but it took only a second before her gaze softened. 

You crossed the room, dropping the folder on her desk, which the woman didn’t bother to ask what it was about already knowing it was a random prop you grabbed from your desk in case you needed an alibi for being in her office. 

“I had high hopes for this year’s outreach day.” she said, her voice no longer angry, but your heart clenched at how disheartened she sounded.

“I know.” you answered from behind her, placing your hands over her upper arms and soothingly running them up and down, “I know, baby.”

Then you started removing her coat jacket, her breath picking up. “Breathe, darling. Slower, please.” you cooed, placing a soft peck on her nape. 

Larissa felt how hot and moist your lips were.

From that point on, you were assessing everything as you went and attempting to elicit a response from her—anything that would suggest whether you should keep going or stop.

“Mhmm, that’s it. Good girl.” you rewarded her with another kiss just right behind her left ear.

“Can I pull the pins out?” you asked, and she nodded. 

“Let’s make you feel good, yes?” You massaged her scalp, and then her shoulders before you inquired about the zipper of her dress.

When she allowed you again, you pressed another fond, sweet kiss behind the right ear. “Thank you.” you murmured, it earned a sensual sound from her.

“Just relax.” Once the sleeves went down her arms and exposed a pale expanse of her skin artfully speckled with freckles, your lips began to press softly over her nape, down her spine and then you pause just to drink in the sight of her back.

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now but you have such a sexy back, you know.” A bona fide chuckle escaped her lips, “So toned and lean. You said you don’t work out.” 

“I really don’t.”

“Turn around for me.” She stepped out of her dress, only in her underwear, and spun around. The clouds of storm in her eyes were no longer present. She looked so much calmer now.  

“So gorgeous.” You breathed, and kissed both of her eyelids. Kissed her cheeks. Kissed the blades of her shoulders. 

Larissa cupped your cheeks, “Have I told you how beautiful you are today?” You chuckled, recalling the times she did in the hallway in the early morning,  in her office when she asked for you before she left, the time where she brushed past you to greet another Professor and still managed to whisper, “You look so pretty, my dear.”

“You did. A lot of times in fact.” 

A smile grew on her lips, “That’s better.” 

“So how do you propose we end this night?” She said, eyeing your chest, and playing with the top button of your blouse, easily undoing one. 

“With a bottle of red for your temper, and some good fucking to relieve your stress. How’s that sound?”  

“Like a miracle. Now, let me help undress you.” 

Larissa took pleasure in admiring how your clothes fit you, how the material feels under her palms before she gets rid of each item. She took her time undoing every button, unclacing every lace, slowly pulling the zipper down. She loved taking her time unravelling you like a gift on a Christmas morning. 

“No. You stay there and watch.” you pushed her to one of the armchairs in front of her desk, telling her to sit, but instead, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you to her private quarters, surprising you.

You giggled after her, blushing at how eager she seemed for you, then she hushed you with her mouth, pressed you on the door when it finally closed and whispered, “Fuck the wine, let’s get straight to fucking.” you agreed while laughing as her lips ghosted your neck, you put both hands on her shoulder, pushing her a bit, “If you want to fuck me, take me to your bed at least.” 

You didn’t have to tell her twice. In one swift move, you were thrown on the bed, her hands quickly relieving your body from the clothes you wore. One by one she undid the buttons, so gentle and careful, and folded them neatly till you were left in your tiny, laced underwear that left nothing to the woman’s imagination. 

You admire the patience she harboured despite how lustful her eyes seemed to appear, how she bit and licked her lips as she unclasped your bra, and the straps fell from your arms, until you were bare from everything.

Your heart thundered in your chest once she touched you with the gentle familiarity of her hands as if you were too fragile if handled any differently. She took in the softness of your skin, smoothing her thumbs across and pressing her fingertips a little too firmly without bringing you any sort of discomfort. Her eyes were dark, yes–lustful and eager, but she was touching you with a particular fondness that differed from when she touched you many times before—that you were certain of. 

Her eyes briefly met yours, but you weren't sure why, and then her lips moved slightly open as if she were getting ready to say something. However, the words in her throat turned into a deep sigh, and her face softened. You wanted to know what was going on in her head.

Before you could ask, though, her lips slammed into yours. Suddenly, you were consumed by the ferocity of the kiss and utterly melted into her, everything in your head finally dissipating into nothingness. You could only think of taking it all. Take everything she was giving you.

–

“Yeah? You like that? Of course you do, look at you, so eager for me.” She said as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your legs were spread and she was inside your cunt, pounding you rough with her fingers. 

“You like that I fuck you so much don’t you? So much that you couldn’t breathe and all you could do is moan like the fucking slut you are.” You made a shaky, barely discernible sound as you tried to respond but it came out as a moan instead. Take it you, slut. What do you want, baby? Mommy’s fingers? Yeah? All of them? Spread them wider so mommy could fuck you more. All of these were making you wetter and needier.

“Fuck.” Came out of you and your back arched, “God, you’re such a fucking whore. So fucking pathetic.” you felt her add another digit, stretching your cunt like she promised you she would and it felt so great, you cried to her as you buried your face on her neck.

“Please, please, please. Let me come, please.” you begged.

But she merely laughed and withdrew from your grasp, steadying herself above you, and wrapped her hand around your throat as you squirmed beneath her. 

“Open your mouth, slut.” she spit in your mouth, “Good girl. Now, swallow.” and you dutifully swallowed it down without breaking eye contact with the blonde.

It all felt too good to be just another one of those nights, one of your little sex escapades in the Principal’s bedroom. Honestly, it all felt nothing of that sort anymore. So maybe, just maybe if you close your eyes and say the words that rested on the tip of your tongue for too long it could change everything.

Were you this desperate that you were willing to take the risk of potential rejection? Yes. Because you could no longer look her in the eyes and act like you weren’t so in love with her, like all of this was nothing to you.

So you closed your eyes, and breathed the words to her lips as you captured them “I love you.” 

Silence followed. You swallowed hard. It felt harder to breathe

She didn’t say it back. She never opened her mouth to say anything or attempted to pull away. You didn’t know if that was a good sign. She kept kissing you and you kept reciprocating, accepting her tongue and sucking her lips. It went on until you were too tired on her bed and sleep was the next best thing. You didn’t bother repeating your words, didn’t bother asking if she heard you or not, you just slept there curled up on the other side of her bed.

Larissa watched the rise and fall motion as you slept, her fingers aching to touch a part of you. You were so close yet so unreachable, the space in between felt like a punishment but who was punishing her but herself.

Unable to keep herself apart from you any longer, she adjusted herself closer, hesitated when you stirred, and then moved closer still until her front was flushed against your backside and her nose was buried in your hair, smelling your scent. 

“Words are not enough for some things I feel about you.” She whispered while stroking your back in shapeless lines and kissing the back of your head from time to time. If she couldn’t kiss your lips, she would gladly settle on any part of you and kiss it no less. 

“But I love you, too, you know?” her voice wavered, and you resisted the impulse to turn around and cradle her face and tell her that you could wait however long it would take because you understood if she wasn't ready yet but you weren’t meant to hear this you suppose. 

When you felt her hand encircling your waist and her breath brushing against the back of your neck, you wanted nothing more than to turn around. 

She was not naive as you thought, she had already noted the significant shift in your breathing that suggested you were in fact awake now and added, "I’m sorry I couldn’t say it back right away." 

Squeezing her hand was the least thing you could do to tell her you understood her.

Lariss didn’t know what else to do except to call your name, her voice was low, the softest it had been all day. You turn around, meeting the pools of blue eyes looking at you with so much warmth, her smile so lovingly enticing. 

“I love you.” She confessed once more in a shuddering, small voice, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She still looked so beautiful. 

You kissed the tears away before they could fall, kissed her cheeks, too, as they looked too inviting not to, then placed kisses down her neck, all intimate and pure before you put one final kiss on her lips. 

The affection you offered made her heart swell in her chest. Each kiss felt like an offering, like the flowers you put in her hair during that one afternoon when you came back from the woods with wild flowers in hand and told her she would look so beautiful with those in her hair.

You smiled at her, lips pressed and stretched so smoothly that she couldn’t resist not kissing you. A chuckle left your lips when she pressed hers, and pinched at your waist. “I shouldn’t be swayed by charms but how could I deny myself such pleasure of kissing you?” She said after the kiss, eyes lingering on your lips,

Just then you realized how much you were so truly, madly in love with her. Your heart had always felt so full around her like they would explode any time and then just stop because beating too fast was so exhausting and there wasn’t enough room for this overwhelming sensation. 

That night, you didn’t know how you ended up sleeping, all you could remember was her warmth, her softness, her voice and her lips pressed so perfectly on your own, while she kept repeating, I love you. 

[reignvoltage]

supercut ★˚.⋆ patrick zweig x f!reader

summary: patrick's frustration is ruinning you two.

warnings & content: no warnings, just fluff with a bit of angst, also a bit of plot and just a boy needy of love ;).

a/n: no one can love you better than me patrick, also, i always preferred him??? despite being somewhat short, i think it is something patrick would canonly do??? i dunno but enjoy, hope to do something better later! i also add that english is not my frist language, so i'm sorry for the grammatical errors, promise to correct it in the future, xo!!!

Words were never enough when it came to Patrick's frustrations, every time you tried to talk to him it was like talking to a tantrum-y child who wouldn't stop crying. And a little guilt came to you when you thought of him that way, because then he ran towards you in a hug where he immersed himself so as not to think about the sport that was supposed to give him some comfort.

Instead, it seemed like his only moment of comfort during the day was you as you caressed his curls, his poorly cut and already grown hair making you see how bad he was having it with all the guilt he had on his shoulders. Thoughts of Tashi and Art came into his mind to torment him for a while until he went to sleep and so on in an endless cycle.

You were an external being to what was going on in his mind, maybe that's why this intimate moment where you felt his breath against your chest felt uncomfortable and empty. You didn't want to be cruel to him, but it was that emptiness that only you noticed that bothered you. You readjusted yourself on the couch without saying a word and in a calm but not too calm way, intended to get his attention.

"What will you do?" You asked suddenly, still caressing his hands and not waiting for an answer, knowing him. "I'd rather leave this out of us, would you?" You rolled your eyes at his answer since as you predicted it happened, absolutely no answer that could help you, then you remembered the first and last conversation you had with Tashi: "You're gonna end up tired of Zweig, I'm telling you", for a moment you believed that were empty words just because they weren't together anymore, but it seemed to make sense that you would get tired of someone who had no intention of moving on withouth them.

"Patrick, I didn't even tell you what and you know what I'm talking about, do you have any idea how deep this is between us?" You blurted out as you watched him slowly let go of your hands as he huffed in some irritation, "I'm sick of this…"

"So what? Do you want me to leave it?" The irritation in his voice was clear, you just sighed rubbing your face and leaning back on the couch.

"I would never ask you for something like that, I just ask you to solve whatever is happening to you because I can't live like this." You got up from the couch heading to the bathroom, you needed to think clearly, and the first ten minutes were crucial to realize that, anyway, he wasn't going to look for you even if you left, that's what you assumed, although it was just that Patrick's too slow to let go of his pride, as always.

It takes him fifteen minutes to let go of pride, he knows what he does to you, he just hated seeing himself that way, as the cause of your sadness in a space that was supposed to be about love and company.

You were questioning in those minutes what you two were supposed to do together, and is in those minutes that you hear a soft knock on the door, so quiet that it seems insincere, you sigh and with resignation you open the door, finding you with nothing but his pleadingly empty face, begging for your forgiveness. You gave him a tired look as you wrapped him in your arms and he hid in your neck.

He clung to you like you were his lucky charm, at the end of the day it was like that.

The slow steps towards the room only meant ignoring everything again and huddling together to seek comfort from each other, as a way to fill the void that you yourselves formed.

"You know you're going to win right?" As if those soft words said an I love you that seemed extinct, he nods as quiet tears ran down his cheeks.

"Sure, what would I do if not?" He smiles, trying to ignore his vulnerability. You smile too as you take his face in your hands, wiping away the salty drops, still, there is no expression of understanding, but one that told him that everything would be fine, and for him it would only be fine if you stayed, because after all, in those moments of darkness and loneliness there was only the supercut of you and the memories of love.

[ka0ila]

| Cockwarming

pairing- maknae line

genre- smut

warning(s)- degradation, angst

[1] [2]

[masterlist]

han

i feel like he’s least likely to cock warm honestly

when he does though, he’d do it for hours.

he must’ve probably come across a nsfw post and asks you to try it with him

it might be uncomfortable for him at first

but theres also a possibility he’d get seriously addicted to it.

he’d ask you to cockwarm everyday everytime yall are together

he’d make it an escape to calm himself off at rough days

“baby?” “mhm” “c’mere sit on my lap”

“take em’ off”

“stay still for me, hm?”

“your cunt is shaped for my cock, darlin’”

“fuck you feel so good baby”

felix

oh he’d absolutely love cockwarming

probably use it to punish you

“yeah? you fucking think making me jealous is fucking funny baby?”

“what’s funny now, slut? you can’t even move without whimpering, shameful, truly. can’t take my cock? you have to. until im satisfied. you have to.”

“no baby, im not done, take it, take all of it, please me.”

oh, his whimpers would make you whineeeee.

we all know this guy loves asmr, might aswell make one for himself, would probably jerk off to it when he’s on tour.

“you such a slut huh? wanted my attention? and now you can’t even handle my cock? pitty.”

seungmin

[change in writing style]

you both had an argument

and this time, you were at fault

even after all the sorries and kisses, he was giving you the silent treatment

everyone was watching a horror movie and seungmin sat far from you.

you seemed sad and seungmin noticed. but he continued his act.

you were beside hyunjin

as a jump-scare came, you clung onto hyunjin’s shoulder.

seungmin’s attention was all at you

he was lowkey pissed

he’d eye you down and text you to get a blanket and sit on him without underwear.

he’d cockwarm you, then and there, next of everyone.

truly tor tortuous, or is it really?

jeongin

honestly, this guy would be freaky in bed.

sure he has that baby bread image but i swear he knows about everything going on and kinks and what not

you’d be surprised by his skills

he’d sleepy cockwarm you

you both are sleepy but needy

he’d look so hot lying there, flushed, dicking you.

oh, his moans, groans, whimpers are to die for.

would slap your ass here and there.

he’d mock and chuckle when you squirm or try and move.

“such a fucking cumslut” he’d chuckle while pushing his cum back inside your hole.

omfg, i finally had time to post. anyways, pleaseeeeee drop some suggestions it’d get a bit easier for me >:(

[whatsnewalycat]

“do you believe in aliens?”

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x GN Person

Summary: Meeting DB in a furniture store.

Prompt: “Do you believe in aliens?”

Trope: Meet-cute

Words: 1.4k+ (sorry can’t shut the fuck up)

Rating: Teen (because swearing)

Notes: For the @dieterbravobrainrotclub May Drabble Challege! Also slightly inspired by Broad City when Lincoln said he met Ilana in a foot locker in Times Square and she was just chillin’. First person POV.

—

It was one of those weeks.

The kind of week where you seem to have no patience for anyone or anything. The kind where extra heavy traffic adds an hour to your commute each way. When you find yourself picking fights and reaching for comfort foods and maybe smoking twice as much as you normally do.

You know the kind of week where you come home on Friday after a long day of suffering under capitalism, only to discover that your live-in boyfriend up-and-left with all of his belongings?

Maybe that last one is just a me problem.

Anyways.

After the first sleepless night on the floor of my apartment, I decided I should get a mattress. Maybe even a bed frame if I could find a good deal.

I went to this nearby furniture outlet, and right away I could tell the place was understaffed. The employees wore these bright sunshine yellow polos that made them easy to spot across the open air of the warehouse. They were outnumbered four to one, easy.

This was gonna take up my whole day. I didn’t mind, though. The way I looked at it, I could either go back to my half-empty apartment and cry about the fact that I didn’t have a bed or a tv or a boyfriend, or I could wait my turn to buy a goddamn bed.

I found the cheapest mattress/bedframe combo available, then laid down on the starch-stiff comforter and gave it a few test bounces before deciding it was good enough.

I walked up and down the aisles of sad-looking bedroom furniture sets, trying to catch the attention of a sunshine polo to no avail.

That’s when I heard him.

“They said it might be an hour wait.”

Following the voice, I turned around and saw this guy all stretched out on a king-sized sleigh bed. He radiated the same energy as a sulking teenager waiting for his parents to pick him up, scrolling on his phone with one arm tucked behind his head.

I checked over my shoulders, then asked, “Are you talking to me?”

He looked up from his phone, dark eyes peeking over the rim of his sunglasses, “You’re trying to get a sales person, right?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugged, sitting up to bend his legs criss-cross applesauce, “Might as well make yourself at home.”

“Well, what can ya do,” I sighed and looked across the warehouse, confirming the sunshine polos were neck deep in annoyed customers.

“Hey, uhhh… since you’re waiting, would you do me a favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Tell me what you think about this bed.”

I turned to face the furniture in question, tilting my head as I studied the thing, “I don’t know, it’s big, I guess. Looks… sturdy,” I kicked the leg and nodded in approval, “Yeah, that frame is solid as fuck. Is it comfy?”

“Pretty comfy,” he took off his sunglasses, hooking them on the collar of his worn-out shirt before patting the bed beside him, “See for yourself.”

“You know, normally I make a guy buy me a drink before hopping into bed with him,” I teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

He gave me this charming, dimpled smile, big brown eyes all sparkling warm when he shrugged, “I’ll buy you one after, how’s that sound?”

Heat clung to my stomach and I couldn’t even bear to look at him wearing that devilish grin.

Shaking my head, I climbed onto the mattress, “I’m just giving you shit.” I laid back on the pillow and sank down into the plush bedspread, “This is so much better than the one I’m getting, oh my god.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled and laid down beside me, crossing his ankles as he stretched out, “I’ve been trying to find one that’ll put me right to sleep. I keep having these weird fuckin’ dreams and—”

He cut himself off with a sigh, then looked over at me, “Do you believe in aliens?”

The ludicrous question took me by surprise. This big bubbly laugh escaped my throat and I turned to him, lost for words. All I could do was repeat the question: “Do I believe in aliens?”

“Yeah.”

I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

Searching his face, I smirked, “Who are you?”

“Dieter,” he rolled on his side to make eye contact with me, “What’s your name?”

So I gave him my name and then I told him, “You know, when I was a teenager I lived out in the country. I’d always see things in the sky I couldn’t quite explain. These lights that would stay static in one place for minutes before zooming off into the stars, and… and, yeah, Dieter, I do believe in aliens. Why do you ask?”

“Well, ok,” he propped his head up on the heel of his hand, “See, the person I bought my bed from told me they were abducted by aliens. And I keep having these dreams where I’m in some kind of a spacecraft and these little gray fuckers won’t stop doing experiments on me. I dunno if it’s my subconscious or if I’m being abducted, but I gotta get a new fuckin’ bed either way.”

“Why would the bed make them abduct you?”

He frowned as he considered this, looking around before returning back to me, “Maybe they have a tracking device on it. I don’t know how it works. Probably not even real.”

“But just in case, you’re getting a new bed?”

“Yeah.”

I shrugged, “Doesn’t hurt to try, huh?”

He nodded, eyes flicking around my face, then rolled onto his back. We laid there staring up at the steel support beams and ugly lights fixed to the warehouse ceiling. For a little while I wondered whether or not he would think it was strange for me to bring up my own grievances. Then I decided fuck it, why not?

“Yesterday I came home and half my apartment was missing. My boyfriend moved out while I was at work, took the bed and everything.”

“Doesn’t sound like he’s your boyfriend anymore.”

“No, I guess not.”

“You don’t seem too broken up about it.”

“It was a long time coming,” I shrugged, “It’s… I don’t know, I’ll be fine. Right now I’m mostly upset about the bed. I set up camp on the living room floor last night and could barely sleep.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, then asked, “Are you gonna get this one?”

“I fucking wish. The one I have picked out feels like a cement slab compared to this.”

“Do you want my old one?”

“The one with the alien tracking device?”

“Oh yeah,” he giggled, “I forgot about that.”

Laughter rumbled up from my belly and his, thick and genuine, the kind that can’t be contained no matter how hard you try. It vibrated through my limbs and welled in my eyes as I choked out, “I—I thought we were gonna be friends, but now you’re trying to get me abducted by aliens? What the fuck, man?”

He doubled over on his side, whole body shaking with these gasping giggles that spread like a contagion to me until I could barely breathe.

Once the laughter died down, I looked over at him wiping the tears from his eyes and felt something rare and beautiful spark in my chest.

“I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard,” I admitted, rolling on my side to face him, unable to wipe the smile from my aching face.

“Me neither.”

From just an arms length away, I met his gaze and the most inexplicable compulsion overtook me. I wanted to kiss him, I realized, and that was truly insane.

His eyes dropped to my lips as though the same thought occurred to him.

“Do you wanna get out of here? Go get a drink?” he asked.

The question bubbled up my spine and made my stomach flip.

I nodded, “I do, but my bed—”

“I’ll take care of it,” he smirked, that devilish smirk that I knew would be trouble, and shrugged, “I’ll have my PA get two of these. Deliver one to your place, how’s that sound?”

“You can do that?”

“Absolutely.”

“How?”

“I’ll explain later,” he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, looking back at me, “You coming?”

Unmistakably, this was a leap of faith. It was insanity. He could have turned out to be any number of terrible things, but he wasn’t. He was a breath of fresh air. A clean break from the funk smothering the light from my life. He was the weirdest and best thing that ever happened to me.

[lace-coffin]

It's me again! I have another request, and I think you might like this one! But a few things first.

I love your profile picture! I very much wanna do that to a Yautja, and have reason to believe it is the most effective way to calm your mate when I'm privacy 👍

I'm glad you appreciate how in depth I go when making a request! I've dealt with other people who tell me I should shorten the detail, and it has made me very sad. Mostly because the reason I go so deep into depth is because autism demands it --

Anyways!

I was wondering if you could write some headcannons for Asa with a more feral pet? Like, when he's with them or their with his bugs/arachnids?

Baby, sweet one, gentlest thing alive, happy animal noises, copious amounts of purring (yes, his pet can purr how lucky did he get?)

But when confronted with a violent escaped toy? Teeth are bared, growling, snarling, split flying, clawing, kicking, scratching, going for areas that hurt not even Asa knows about

Yet when Asa tries to calm them down, all he need do is just

And bang! Pet is back to normal

Better description of what I have in mind!

Once again, and toy escaped, this time from the box. Asa. Is. FURIOUS

This is the second time this has happened! he fuming as he stalks the halls, when he suddenly hears loud screaming and cursing. Cold fear goes down his spine, his pet is out and about, and we're much to small to fend off his newest toy, why, he's bigger than Asa!

Listening intently as the pained wailing turns into gurgles, he bursts into the area where he "plays" with his new toys, and finds his pet standing above the toys dead body. Scratches litter his arms, his eyes have been clawed open and gored, and his throat? Ripped completely out.

We stand huffing over it, shoulders tense with adrenaline and hands blood stained until half up our forearm. We turn our head to the side, eyes shrunken our mouth and has doused in blood, the man's throat clutched between our teeth.

We blink, split out the throat, and fully turn to Asa. Suddenly, Asa's pet looks sheepish, ducking their head as they play with their hands and avoid eye contact. Timidly we say "i-...I caught him, Master"

having so many thoughtshhhhhhhhhh

Asa Emory x Feral! Gn! Reader

Asa Emory x gn!reader

trigger warning for graphic violence,description of gore/corpses and power dynamics

Requests are closed (for now!!)

First of all thank you for the request! I always super enjoy writing urs!

I would also love to hold a Yautja gentle like hamburger and pet their mandibles, save me big Yautja women.

I’m sorry people have been mean to u abt how u prefer to send requests : ( I’m also autistic so u being specific in what u want also rlly helps me out!

Your relationship with Asa was strange, well it was strange from an outsiders perspective, not that you really saw them much anyway, but that’s neither here nor there. It’s just your relationship was different from his other pets. Obviously you were the favourite, sleeping in a cute padded cage whilst the others slept in a fenced off area and essentially cannibalised each-other from starvation. Meanwhile you were fed 3 balanced meals a day plus snacks. If Asa was somewhere in the hotel it’s basically assured you’re there too, probably perched on his lap, gloved hand running under your chin as you rumble and purr happily.

Despite the amount of fight you put up at first you were truly a lap dog through and through, always at your masters heels even if he wasn’t doing anything of interest, as long as you could lay under the desk and wrap an arm around his ankle you were happy. Asa never really was one for physical affection but he’s grown to love it since ‘acquiring’ you, not that he really had a choice with the way you stuck to his side like a rodent on a glue trap, he’s wasn’t complaining however. With the way you clung to him anyone would think you’re the one who’s holding him captive.

This unfortunately wasn’t the case with other inhabitants. Your special place in his heart was only 80% of the reason you got special treatment, granted it would’ve happened anyway but it may have been hurried along by the fact that he didn’t trust you to cohabitate with the toys he kept. You know the reports you get back from doggy daycare? The ones that say “doesn’t play well with others”? Yeah. That was you.

On multiple occasions even before settling in he’d caught you surround by bodies or chunks of other people in your mouth. Clearly you didn’t take well to sharing whether it be food or Asa’s affection. If you were anyone else you would’ve been slaughtered already for conveniences sake but he’d seen the way you soften when he visited. He knew there was something more to it.

Cut to current day, Asa is stressed and pissed off. A new toy has escaped, he could have sworn the box was secured properly, even double checking it. To be fair the toy in question was built like a brick shit house, taller and stronger than himself. Hopefully the term “the bigger they are the harder they fall” will apply to them, for both your and Asa’s sake.

Thats another issue, you’re currently roaming the halls too. Your master doesn’t usually have to worry about you when you’re out and about in the hotel, the minute you slip from his side it’s like all placidity and calm he’s come to love dissipates, leaving you the feral beast he had first stolen from your home. If anything it’s comforting for him to know you can hold your own out there. He keeps a watchful eye on you but not even he can anticipate what’s going to happen sometimes. Despite his opinion of himself he was only mortal.

It was now a race against time to either locate you and get you back to safety whilst he re contains the rogue or find said escapee first and detain him before you can cross paths. Your sir knows you can usually handle trouble but this guy is huge..

Asa swears under his breath and hauls himself through the twisting corridors, dipping in and out of rooms in search of either of you. Beginning to panic more as you prove hard to find he calls out for you, hands cupped around his mouth. “Pet? It’s time to come back, this is serious, I need you back right now.” He tries not to let the anxiety bleed into his voice, not wanting to scare you, and smothers it with an authoritarian tone. He waits a few moments to listen for any response. Shit. Nothing.

He moves further into the hotel and onto the other side, cupping his hands again and trying once more “cricket? I’m not playing, I need you here now” nothing again. Just as he turns his heel to try another direction he hears a noise that turns his blood to ice. Disgusting wet gurgles and muffled curses boom from down the hall. Asa isn’t easy to startle considering the vile things he does everyday to real people but the idea of you being in pain and too late to save- it makes him want to vomit.

Pushing through the nausea he bolts down the hallway and slams the doors to his ‘playroom’ open. Usually this room is reserved for experimenting on subjects.

What he sees calms him and raises his heart rate at the same time.

There you are, his perfect docile pup, hunched over what is (was) his newest pet. Shoulders raised, hackles up. The body below you is almost unrecognisable, arms littered with angry raised scratches, most likely from you struggling. Eyes completely missing from the sockets, well one was still technically attached to the coord but that’s not important. Chunks of once warm and rosey cheek flesh have been gouged from the skull, the imprints around them suggest the flesh was bitten away from the bone. Lastly and maybe most notably the throat is missing a considerable amount of matter. The hole runs deep, severed veins now lazily trickling warm blood into a puddle after the initial bite drained most of it.

Eventually you notice another presence and bristle, turning your head slowly to meet Asa’s eyes. Your eyes are essentially bulging out of your head, pupils dilated and crazed, throat and forearms doused in slowly cooling crimson. A chunk of what Asa presumes to be the missing throat lodged in your firmly set jaw.

The second you realise who it is it’s like you gain some clarity, spitting the foul meat onto the floor and wiping your mouth on your sleeve. It doesn’t help, only smearing the liquid further. Turning completely to face your master you slump onto your knees, eyes down to the floor shy and respectful like you’ve been trained. “I-…I caught him master.” It comes out croakier than you’d like.

You keep your eyes trained to the floor as the larger man approaches, heavy boots thumping on the floor towards you. You brace for the telling off, you can see yourself ending back up with the other fodder pets, you’d really pushed it this time, killing another subject. However it never comes. two warm now ungloved hands cup your bloody cheeks, gently coercing you to look at him. To your surprise Asa looks…relieved almost?

A soft smile paints his face. “You did catch him, thank you pet.” You sit there dazed and confused as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, ignoring the hair matted to it from the gore. “You did such a good job and I’m more than relived your unharmed, I don’t know what I’d-“ Asa cuts himself off, clearing his throat,not wanting to show vulnerability right now when you’re the one who needs attention. You don’t miss the way his voice wavers with worry. Embarrassed he quickly offers you a hand up, spinning on his heel and facing away. “Let’s get you cleaned up and rewarded shall we?” You don’t see the pink tint on his face.

[caramellcandy]

Okay so here it is! I used the idea i sent previously so since its night time Polite can in fact hug them if he wants to. Anyway I hope you like it!

Odysseus sits at his desk late into the night plotting the path home. Its obvious he has not been sleeping well with eye bags and tangled hair as he leans back with a tired sigh. He knows he should try to sleep but he can feel the weight of those who had died pulling at him and he knows all he will find in sleep is haunting nightmares and screams.

"Odysseus?"

Odysseus scrambles off the chair knocking it down in the process as he draws his sword and points it at the intruder. He flinches at the ghostly sight of his best friend looking exactly like he did in death but soon hardens his heart and glares.

"Who are you?"

Polites no not polites the imposter he has to be an imposter looks confused and hurt as he tries to reach out towards Odysseus a bloody hand reaching out one last time the word Captain ringing in his ears causing him to flinch. Polites pulls back eyes filled with familiar concern and sadness.

The door bursts open and Eurylochus rushes in eyes worried and determined but pauses, tense, as he catches sight of Polites.

"Captain? What's going on? I came in here because I heard a commotion but..."

"I'm not sure yet they were just about to me who they are."

Polites tries to show one of his usual sunshine smiles but it comes across more like pleading for them to believe him.

"What do you mean ,its me, im Polites!"

Odysseus really wants to believe him but after everything ... How can he know its not just another trick, a cruel punishment from some God. But if it really is him...

"Fine if your really who you say you are tell me something only Polites would know."

Polites perks up with a bright smile, happy to have a chance to prove himself. He pauses to think about before smirking his eyes full of mischief.

"Remember that time when you were 12 and you were washing off in the stream and a crawfish latched onto your-"

"OKAY okay you don't need to finish I believe you!"

Odysseus has a light blush, embarrassed as he glares at Eurylochus who is obviously struggling to contain laughter.

"Eurylochus, Not. A. Word."

Eurylochus looks away trying to hide the grin on his face as he still holds back laughter.

"I have no idea what your talking about Captain."

Odysseus groans as he buries his face in his hands.

"Seriously Polites out of everything you could have said why did it have to be that."

Both Polites and Eurylochus can't hold it in anymore and burst into laughter at his embarrassment. Odysseus chuckles a bit but soon laughter turns into tears as he breaks down sobbing finally realizing that its really him.

"Polites I'm so sorry.. I should have done bett-"

Polites pulls him into a hug and hushes him.

"No Ody I promise my death is not your fault okay? Please don't blame yourself anymore."

Odysseus flinches before relaxing into the hug. Its not as warm as it used to be but its still just as comforting simply because its Polites. Eurylochus kneels down and places a comforting hand on Odysseus until Polites drags him into the hug as well. He tenses but soon relaxes as he starts to cry silently.

For the first time in forever they three of them lay there on the floor simply happy to embrace each other as they cry. They clung to each other not caring that Odysseus might be a bit more monstrous than before, that Polites is still dead, or that Eurylochus has grown more and more concerned for Odysseus and the crew. No all that matters is that they are together again and right now that is enough.

it's so cute that the three of them end up hugging, I love it❤

[the-fluff-piece]

Hiya, I’ve only just found your blog and I love your work🥰 would you mind writing a bit of a drama (i’m a drama queen🥲)? I’ve been thinking some misunderstanding like zoro being (unintentionally) popular with girls but one being extremely clingy to the point people, as well as the fem reader, think they are a couple. Female reader gets jealous and sad and Sanji comes to comfort her and Zoro sees that and gets the wrong idea and becomes jealous too. But they somehow find out the truth and blah blah romantic stuff confessions etc. I know it’s ridiculous but I live for the drama🥺 thanks in advance and i will understand if you don’t want to do it but I love ya anyway xx

Hiya dear reader,

Thank you for your kind words! I'm happy that you like my style!

I'm sorry it took so long, but I didn't want to post something unfinished XD I hope you don't mind me setting it before the time skip, I think water seven directly after enies lobby is a great location.

Drama is always good and that's a great setup - LET'S DO IT (got a little longer)

👉 masterlist stories

👉 masterlist headcanon

here's

Zoro has no fucking clue

You defeated CP9 and returned together with Robin to Water 7, where the crew got the chance to heal and relax for a few days.

Together, you really showed it to the world government! Well, mostly the big hitters in the crew. Zoro saved you when it came to fighting, not that you minded it. Whenever you were in danger, you knew that he would show up and defeat whatever marine captain or sea monster was trying to kill you.

When you got the key and released him and Usopp from the cuffs, he flashed you a heartmeltingly handsome smile and proceeded to partake in the absolutely ridiulous sword duel that destroyed half the building - and than he fought against thousands of marines.

He really deserved a break. And a thank you. You had been aimlessly wandering through the streets of water 7 to find something for Zoro, a gift to thank him. And maybe show him how much you like him.

Eventually, you decided to get him a Magnum bottle of sake, enough for his big thirst. It was something he absolutely would love.

Pleased with your purchase, you walked back to your temporary shelter in water 7- but your heart almost stopped. You were already so attuned to his appearance, that you could have picked out that green hair in any crowd - Zoro was here. And he seemed to be moving fast. Trouble? That meat head always managed to find a fight, you better help him out.

The gathering crowd slowed you down almost immediately. You squeezed through to see Zoro fighting with some guy, who was no match for the formidable swordsman.

Putting on a real show, Zoro played with the amateur, who poked helplessly at the air as Zoro effortlessly moved around the battlefield. Drinking in the "Oh!" And "Ah!" From the surrounding crowd, a cocky smile spread over his face.

With his two swords crossed, he finally attacked and struck his opponent down with one blow.

The crowd cheered - a very female sounding cheer. You noticed a lot of girls streaming to him. They clung to his arms and praised his strength- what was going on?

A girl shouted: "He got the pantie thief! He's my hero!" In a ridiculously high pitched voice and ran towards a grinning Zoro.

Pantie thief - of course. You rolled your eyes and waited for the crowd to dissipate. And you waited, and waited. One of them seemed glued to Zoro's arm, giggling and throwing her long, blonde locks around.

"Hey Zoro, let's get back to the others" you tried to get him to leave with you.

"Nah. this girl here will thank me with some booze! Just go back without me." He waved you off while the girl promised him all he could drink.

Rolling your eyes even harder, you went back to the crew at the galley-la building and informed them of Zoro's absence.

"Good riddance!" Sanji muttered past his cigarette. "Want an éclair?" He offered, almost in the same breath but with suddenly heart-shaped eyes.

"YES" you shouted, hungry for some kind of comfort after Zoro just trotted off with a blonde haired beauty.

"Stupid mosshead!" You cursed as you angrily shoved the sweet treat into your mouth.

"Yes he is, if he did anything to you I will kick that guy to the moon!" Sanji chimed in.

"No it's okay." You muttered and continued to mope for the rest of the evening.

Hardly able to sleep, you heard Zoro stumble home at dawn, throwing himself into a corner and snoring almost immediately.

You hoped that it was done with that - until the next morning. You heard Sanji shriek in delight as the door opened: "Such a sweet beautiful girl, did you come to see me, my lady?"

You didn't hear the reply clearly, but a high female voice cooed something and you heard a loud thud as Sanji's body hit the floor, an expression of total horror on his face.

The girl from yesterday pranced past you as you knelt down next to the cook.

"It's horrible..." he hoarsely whispered, seemingly near death, "she's bringing the mosshead breakfast. That beautiful lady..." his eyes closed as he sighed the last half-sentence and with it, his will to live (for the moment).

Hot jealousy surged up again. You stomped to the table, where luffy was sleep-eating heaps and Zoro gingerly unpacked a giant sandwich, seemingly made entirely out of meat.

The blonde bimbo had parked her breasts on the table and watched Zoro with a dreamy expression as he wolfed down the sandwich, splattering sauce all over the place.

"Do you like it?" She asked in a melodic voice.

"Yeah, thanks" Zoro answered with a full mouth. He seemed very content. That ass.

She didn't leave afterwards. In fact, she basically moved in immediately, either hanging on Zoro's arm or sitting close to him, watching him with heart shaped eyes and complimenting his every breath.

She eventually informed the somewhat irritated rest of the crew that her name was Silk (while throwing her silky hair around) and that she stayed with Zoro. Since she didn't actually do anything bad and Zoro didn't seem to mind, everyone accepted or ignored it.

"Come on, snookums, it's so crowded here, let's go out" Silk tugged at his arm. "I know a great liquor place!"

"Yeah why not" he lazily followed her as she maneuvered him like a tugboat.

"Snookums?" you stared after them in disbelief.

Nami, meanwhile, died of hysterical laughter.

"Didn't think that a girl could tame him that much. He's totally whipped!" she laughed and slapped your back while you didn't understand the world anymore.

The sake you bought was still in your bag, still untouched. Maybe you should bring it back to the store.

It was evening, Zoro and his girl weren't back yet. You found yourself so irritated that you couldn't sleep, just like Sanji, who sat at the table and poured himself some wine.

As you sat next to him, he silently passed you a glass as well. He somehow managed to get from perfectly coiffed, full of energy and dressed to the nines to unshaven and disheveled in the course of a day.

"I know why I am upset...but what is it with you?" You ask him.

Two bloodshot eyes stared back at you.

"I can't believe Marimo...that filthy brute, with no style and no interest in women has a...a..." The end of his sentence was too much to bear for him, instead he took a nervous gulp of wine.

"And she's so....soo...prettyyyyy" he dragged out the last word like a pre-schooler in a tantrum.

You gently tapped your glass against his: "to us" you whisper.

"To...us?" He half asked and half repeated and he smiled.

One glass turned into two glasses, and like that the bottle was gone. Your only topic: how much Zoro and that girl sucked.

A new bottle was opened, and another. Soon, you didn't find enough things to hate Zoro for anymore, so instead you moved on to different topics. Sanji told you about growing up in the restaurant while you told him a few stories of your own. After the third bottle was emptied, you were both pretty drunk, and you didn't really remember much anymore.

You drifted off to an uneasy sleep, full of Zoro how he made out with the girl named Silk. How they had children and generally shoved their happiness into your face.

"Oi, wake up. Y/n, wake up!" You heard Zoro's angry voice above you as he tapped you with his foot.

"Wha...let me sleep marimo" you answered, swiftly adopting Sanji's language and inflection.

As you opened your eyes, the swordsman's towering frame took up your entire field of vision. With his crossed arms and grumpy expression, he looked intimidating as hell.

You stretched and realized that you had slept on the floor, leaning against Sanji, amidst a lot of pillows. Sanji must have brought them during the night to make you more comfortable. Now that's a man!

When you moved, Sanji's head fell into your lap, still sleeping, and he immediately began purring like a kitten. Zoro grabbed him by the collar and shook him awake.

"What the fuck YOU think you're doing?" He bellowed at his sleepy crewmate.

"Go and have your nosebleed somewhere else, you pervy cook!" He said as he threw Sanji down again -hopefully immediately regretting it because Sanji answered with a fiery kick.

Not even 5 minutes awake and already near a fight, you decided to crawl away to safety and make some tea.

As you set down with steaming cup in hand, you spotted the blonde girl coming towards you, wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Demonstrably, she sighed and commented "what a short night" showcasing her disheveled hair with a pout.

"Uh-hu" was all you could manage.

"You are his crewmate, are you not?" she asked, "how can you live with that manly man on one boat and not fall for him?"

"Yeah, it's a mystery" you answered sourly. If she only knew that you did - and he didn't care.

She continued to talk about something, but you decided not to listen. Instead, you focused on the fight going on outside now, where Zoro and Sanji shouted insults at each other.

"You hurt her feelings! I cannot ignore that!" Sanji screamed. "FLAMBÈ SHOT!"

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, STUPID COOK!" Zoro answered among loud clashes.

Your head was aching too much, there was too much noise. You excused yourself and went outside - away from the fight - and sat at the pier. It was calm here. Just faint noises of fighting were in the background.

You thought about how childish those two were, always fighting about something. But you were one to talk, you were childish as well. Zoro or Silk had no way of knowing that they hurt your feelings. At least Zoro deserved an open apology. And his sake.

You sighed, already playing the conversation in your head. The waves crashed against the pier, it was really calm.

Too calm.

When you returned to the building, both Zoro and Silk were gone.

Sanji was at the stove, making breakfast.

"Zoro stormed off" he said flatly. "And Silk-chan followed, of course."

They didn't return for the whole day. Dusk came and there was still no sign of them.

It got late, evening turned to night and Zoro was still gone. It was time to have a talk, to let him know how you felt, and to clarify where you both stood. You packed the sake to finally give it to him and be the friend he deserved.

You made your way through the bustling streets of Water 7 once again, aimlessly walking and hoping to find Zoro. It was a lively city with people sitting outside and laughing late into the night. You didn't see the green hair anywhere, maybe they've gone to her place.

Your feet have taken you away from the people in the streets to side alleys, where everything was calm and dark. There were lots or piers looking out to the water where crews loaded and unloaded goods.

With relief, you spotted Zoro sitting on a wooden barrel near the water's edge, alone now, with an empty bottle of sake beside him. His expression was more somber than before, and he seemed lost in thought.

Taking a deep breath, you approached him, determined to have the conversation you had been avoiding. As you got closer, Zoro looked up and met your gaze, and you could see a hint of surprise in his eyes.

"Hey," you said softly, taking a seat beside him. "Mind if we talk?"

Zoro blinked and then nodded, a serious look on his face. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and decided to be direct. "I am really happy for you, Silk seems to really like you." You paused, unsure where to go next.

"And I hope you're happy with the cook" he snorted.

"What?" You asked, surprised.

"The cook. And you. I wouldn't have thought..." His voice trailed off and he took the bottle again. Remembering that it was already empty, he threw it into the sea with a sigh.

"That goddamn cook with his nice words..." Zoro mumbled angrily.

"I am not with Sanji, silly" you told him.

"But you slept together...! On the floor!" He stuttered.

"We just fell asleep, nothing more." You said.

"I...I'm not with Silk either." He rubbed his head, "in fact, she was kind of unnerving."

"Than why be with her for days?" You asked.

"You know, it was nice to be appreciated for once. Silk gets it. You always call me stupid or silly." He shrugged.

"You stupid mosshead, everytime I call you stupid I mean that I like your stupid!" You rummaged in your bag for the Sake, "it means that you're adorable and cute and so, so unbelievably, awesomely stupid! And I do appreciate you. You save me all the time. I bought this for you, as a thank you" You gave him the extra large bottle of Sake.

Zoro's brows furrowed as the gears started turning in his head. "I didn't realize... I mean, I didn't think...why did you never say so before?"

"Don't know. You never really cared about anything besides swords and fighting." You shrugged.

"I...I do care, I just...I'm not so good with words." He held the bottle in his hands like he didn't know what to do with it.

He swallowed and looked at you. "You know, I think you're stupid, too. Really silly. The silliest person I've ever met." He laughed and you chimed in.

You felt a rush of relief and happiness wash over you. Maybe Zoro wasn't as clueless as you had thought. Perhaps he had his own way of expressing his feelings.

"Just to be sure...stupid means I like you" He whispered and invited you to sit with him. When you hopped on the barrell, he put his arm around you.

As you sat there by the water's edge, the two of you talked late into the night, sharing stories, laughter, and sake. The noise of the world around you faded into the background as you discovered a deeper connection with Zoro, one that went beyond the chaos of battles and adventures.

And in that moment, you realized that sometimes, the most meaningful conversations happened not in grand gestures, but in the quiet moments shared between two people who cared for each other deeply.

-----

Epilogue (because I don't want to leave Silk's character as the only evil female catty villain)

Zoro and you eventually made it back to the company house and shocked everyone, first and foremost poor Sanji, with your new found closeness. It would be a long road until you could say the l-word to each other, but whatever your now relationship was, it was good.

It would still be a few days until you could sail from water 7 and you enjoyed the commodities of the city, walking through the busy streets, window shopping.

A store with beautiful cloth caught your eye and you entered. You looked at the exquisite goods when you heard a shop clerk approach "can I help you?"

"No I'm just look-AHHH" your voice and face must have derailed when you found yourself looking at an equally shocked Silk. A moment of awkward silence followed where you saw that her eyes were swollen and she looked really tired.

"Uhm, hi Silk, how are you?" You stammered.

"You know. Not so good" Silk looked unnerved. "What do you want?"

"I didn't know you worked here" you were caught off guard. But now that Zoro was with you, the anger against her seemed childish and mean.

"I'm Sorry if I was mean to you before" you said, surprising the girl, "I was unfair."

"No, don't. I was...overreacting, too. I'm sorry" She said thoughtfully. "He didn't stop talking about you. Really annoying, like he was hung up on you. That's why I was so pushy" Tears pooled in her eyes again.

Helpless, you tried to comfort her.

"Don't...he's just a stupid, stupid man" you told her.

"I know. That's why I liked him" she said, voice breaking.

You guessed that you weren't the best person to comfort her now, so you decided to leave.

"I'm Sorry. I should go now" you said.

"Yeah. Bye" She forced a smile and waved.