#finally stumbled across this post again. thanks everyone

[senso1954]

senso (1954) / un amour de swann (1984)

a dangerous method (2011)/solaris (1972)/phantom thread (2017)

[pseudowho]

Grey

You live a vigilante life, taking down Curses and Curse Users on commission. When finances force you to take a job from Jujutsu High, you find yourself stumbling into Nanami Kento's lap, where he has a proposition for you instead.

ThatHigurumaBathScene! But with Nanami Kento. Post Shibuya AU.

Warnings: AU!MorallyGrey Nanami Kento, Hot/ColdDom Nanami Kento, 18+, deep throat and other goodies, you know what you're here for.

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I hate to say I'm beginning to see My own reflection in my adversaries [...]

What's the price of a soul? What's its worth versus gold? I tried to beg for mine But it was already sold

Does nobody think twice? What does your hell look like? Does everyone have their price? Where they finally break

-- Sylosis, A Sign of Things to Come

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"So what can you tell me about this...Rogue sorcerer, that will make him easier to find?"

The backstreet diner was dimly lit, with a sickly orange light flickering above the window outside. Sounds and smells of greasy cooking seeped into your ears and clothes.

You swirled a spoon in your mug, already pissed off with the Jujutsu High representative, who seemed to find new ways to be spectacularly unhelpful with every answer he gave.

"He uses...a blunt blade of sorts. Wrapped in white cloth. He usually wears a suit. A tall man, I hear."

"Tall and in a suit. Right. That narrows it down. Thanks a lot."

The representative bristled. "You come highly recommended, despite being...unconventional," he sneered at you,  "The sorcerer in question has been tracked to somewhere in this vicinity." A marked map, along with a slim folder, was tossed across the table to you. The representative stood, brushing imaginary crumbs off his suit. "You know your task. Convince him to come back and work for Jujutsu High again, or eliminate him. He's too unpredictable. He threatens the fabric of sorcerer society."

You were silent, appraising the folder's contents. "Threatens the fabric of sorcerer society," you scoffed. They said the same about you. Any sorcerer acting independently of the higher-ups' control, whether a danger to good people or not, was seen as a danger, a rogue element. You would make your own assessment of the man, if you found him.

For now, it was late, the sun long gone down. You had insisted upon all expenses paid, alongside a generous wage, and were surprised when your price was agreed upon immediately. As such, a very exclusive hotel had a room reserved for you, for as long as you needed it. It was of no real comfort to your sinking loneliness, but a warm bed came second to a warm companion, when living on the move never guaranteed a good night's sleep. Picking up the folder and your bags, you headed to your hotel, to begin your hunt for the nameless rogue sorcerer first thing in the morning.

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The hotel had a beautiful restaurant, you considered, sipping your wine with quiet hums of approval. Leaning forwards, your chin on your arched fingers, you pondered over dessert. As you perused the menu, you barely glanced at the tall figure pressing briefly against your side on his way past your table.

"Excuse me," murmured a low, smooth voice. A spiced, warm cologne filled your senses as you turned briefly, watching a tall blond figure walk away from you. You thought nothing more of it.

After dinner, on your way up the hotel room's corridors, you felt through all of your pockets, certain you had picked up your key card, but hopelessly unable to find it.

By the time you reached room number seventy-three, you were forced to accept you had lost it. Yet, you were about to turn on your heels and head back to Reception when you noticed the door, already slightly open. Sensing a trap, and holding little but disdain for traps, you walked in with confidence, closing the door behind you, locking it.

Scanning the room, you called out; "I'm not that easily spooked. I'm not trapped in here with you. You're trapped in here with me."

You heard a low, sultry chuckle from the bathroom, the gentle swish of water sounding as something shifted in it. You may have been forced to eat your words, when a rush of Cursed energy that was so powerful, so heavy, hit you, a sandstorm on a desert. You had a sinking realisation that your rogue sorcerer may have hunted you down, before you'd hunted him.

"Are you going to come in?" the smooth voice called from the bathroom, as you forced yourself to take a breath. "I don't bite." Shaking yourself off, you pressed your body flat to the wall, concealed, as you pulled open the bathroom door. A few moments passed, and nothing happened. You heard the man, humming a song to himself. Slow swishes of water.

Glancing in, your tummy twisted as you took in the sight before you. Lying spread-eagled in the full bathtub, fully-clothed, was a man as well-grown and vast as his Cursed energy. Long legs, clad in an expensive black suit, and thick thighs pressed over the lip of the tub, wet clothes clinging to every peak and mountain of the man's body, leaving little to the imagination. In his hands, a small pair of dark glasses. His face, as of yet, not visible, but his left hand and his neck were covered in thick, red burn scars.

"Somebody's been using my bath," you offered, more nervous than you sounded. Heat pooled in your belly as the man chuckled again.

"Does that make me Goldilocks?" he asked, "I always thought I was more of a Daddy Bear." He lifted his head, looking at you now, and you blushed. Outstandingly handsome, even with deep scarring, you groaned inwardly to yourself, why are the problematic ones always so handsome?

"I've heard a lot about you," the blond man mused, swirling the water with his fingertips, his visible slim brown eye burning up and down your body, and you felt so completely seen, feeling his gaze burn even through his eye patch.

Outwardly cool, you smiled slightly at him, eyes narrowing; "Then you probably already know what I'm here for." The man sighed, in equal measures amused and exasperated.

"Jujutsu High have been after me returning to their sloppy little books for years. What did they think sending you after me would do?" He polished his glasses, before looking to you sternly, "Unless they've recruited you, hmm? Is that it? Are you a honey-trap?" You scoffed, your blush only deepening, much to the blond man's amusement. Swiftly and to your alarm, the man began to climb out of the bath, water cascading off him. Your stomach clenched again, desire coiling within. This man is an Adonis.

He raised his hand to you as you flinched, reaching for your weapons; "Calm down. I have no interest in hurting you." The man straightened, dropping his suit-jacket to the floor with a wet slap. "Those pieces of shit at Jujutsu High, however..." He approached you slowly now, looming over you, disgust in his eyes, "...who have no regard for your wellbeing, or any of their own sorcerers and students for that matter, would happily send you to try to threaten me back, even when they know it would be a fight you could never win."

He pressed against the wall above your head with his forearm now, leaning down to your ear and whispering.

"What was it you said, Little Bear? I'm not trapped in here with you; you're trapped in here with me." Your heart thumped behind your breasts, but you raised your head to meet his eye, one hand on his chest to prevent him getting any closer. He grasped your hand, pressing it to him, "The name's Nanami Kento. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Shit shit shit. "Nanami Kento? The Nanami Kento?" you cried, "They sent me after you? You're not even--" you faltered, and Kento smirked as you caught on.

"Not even, strictly speaking, a Curse User, no," he finished for you, "Just not at their beck and call. I hunt what I want, when I want. Freelance, if you will. Just like you, Little Bear. So tell me, are you in such dire straits, a talent such as yourself, that you needed to accept me as a job?"

You huffed, head turning to the side, and Kento traced his eyes down your breasts, hardening inside his wet trousers.

"You don't only kill Curses, Nanami," you deferred, "you're a man-killer too. Your kill count is impressive to say the least."

Kento eyed you shrewdly, voice low and slow, "Would you call them men? Rapists, abusers, murderers...there are all sorts of monsters in this world." You gulped. You didn't disagree with him. It was becoming rapidly apparent that you could not complete this job. Despite his assurances that he would not hurt you, his huge frame blocking your exit, the way he had stolen your key card at the restaurant to intercept you, and the threat you posed to his vigilantism, spoke differently.

"You could always come with me," Kento purred, "we're kindred spirits already.  And a bit of company might be a pleasant change. I'll pay you whatever they promised." His soft assurances were warm and honeyed against your ear, and you felt acutely how lonely you were.

"I don't need your money," you spat, pushing him away now, furious with yourself for even considering his offer. Kento stepped reluctantly away from you, a prize which he had every reason to allow himself to be caught by. You, the stories of whose exploits Kento had drank up, coming to hunt him down? He was flattered and thrilled when his informant at Jujutsu High warned him.

"Imagine what a team we could be," Kento growled, pacing in front of you, incensed that you couldn't see how simple and beautiful the solution could be.

In truth, you saw it. You saw yourself working with this man on your shared aims. You saw yourself ridding the world of Curses and monsters without agenda, but with him. It was with a sinking feeling that you knew if you chose to go with Nanami, the brittle mutual understanding you had with Jujutsu High to leave you alone as long as you offered them occasional services, would be lost. You risked becoming an enemy, a rogue element like him.

"It's not what I came here for," you responded stiffly, Kento wide-eyed with fury at your rejection, scarred skin strained against his eye patch. You straightened, putting a brave face on your fragile resolve as you turned your back on him, grabbing the door handle. "I won't be coming with you. I'll tell Jujutsu High exactly what you think of their offer. It won't be me who bothers you anymore."

As you moved to leave, you felt strong, corded arms move around you to hold the door closed, one wrapping tightly around your waist. Your heart nearly leapt out of your mouth.

"Stay," Kento urged, pulling you back to him.

"I thought you killed rapists," you spat at him. His arms stiffened around you.

"Please, don't compare me to scum. I don't need to rape you to get you into bed with me." Despite yourself, your pulse throbbed in your ears, and between your legs. "You're lonely. I'm lonely. We have shared goals. We could defy their system together." His mouth ghosted against your neck and he was delighted to feel you shiver against his tongue.

Feeling bolder, Kento laid his hand over the back of yours, grasping, and pressing them flat together against the wall. As he leant you forwards, his teeth sank into the back of your neck, and the wetness from his suit seeped through your clothes. He was so close, you couldn't tell where you began and he ended. The urge to give in was dizzying, images of chasing a different life with this man rushing through you a mile a minute, and you felt him pause for a moment, shivering against you.

"Cold," he murmured on your neck. "Have you ever taken a bath in your clothes?" You couldn't answer him, too overwhelmed by the press of his cock, insistently rigid, against your back. He kissed your neck again, hard. "Just to feel something." His fingers, cool and rough, slipped underneath the bottom of your shirt, nails grazing against the sensitive skin of your stomach.

"I don't...Nanami, I'm not..." He groaned, still breathing heavily against you.

"I want you," he intoned against you, "Maybe you can have something better than what you came here for."

"You're...you're a stranger to me," you gasped, resolve crumbling, body crying out for affection and release.

"I don't have to be," Nanami pressed, squeezing your hand, joined with his against the wall, "so let me show you what being needed really is...and then you can decide what you want to tell Jujutsu High."

Kento turned you round to face him, his one visible warm brown eye hooded with desire, beginning to unbutton his own shirt as he stroked your jaw, maintaining eye contact. You stared him down, vulnerable, tearful and overwhelmed. His thumb swiped across your eyes, hushing you softly.

"I know you don't want me to stop...do you?" he purred, his voice low and dangerous. You trembled, never wanting to find companionship like this, but sinking into Nanami's insistent control felt so intoxicating. Increasingly fearful of your own desires, you backed away to the wall again, pursued by Nanami, who blocked you in place, his knee pressed against the wall and between your legs.

"Please..." you began, begging him for...what? Pleasure? Or escape? You warred with yourself, as Nanami finished removing his shirt, wet and peeled off his body, and gods was he a sight to behold. His taut muscles and roughly hewn burn scars drew your eyes to his chest, drinking him in. Nanami smirked, tilting your chin up to him and pulling you in firmly for a kiss which broached no argument. You gasped at the sudden intrusion and Nanami took full advantage, plundering his tongue into your mouth, filling your senses with whiskey and smoke. Your arms, numb with shock, were grasped by Nanami, one by the wrist and placed against his burned chest, and one slipped under his belt, your palm flat against the trail of hair on his abdomen, just deep enough for your fingertips to graze the base of his cock.Your fingertips flinched back, and Nanami's hand pressed over yours, holding your fingers in place, his tongue trembling against yours as he shivered.

"Do you want me to stop?" he rumbled again, his mouth beginning to make a course down your jaw and neck. Leaning away momentarily, he read your face, flushed with pleasure, tears of rage in your eyes. Nanami chuckled behind your ear, nipping your earlobe hard until you squeaked and cringed. You didn't want him to stop, but couldn't be a part of making this decision for yourself. Nanami pushed your hand deeper behind his belt, the flat of your palm now pressed hard against his throbbing erection, happy to make the decision for you. Tentatively, you squeezed him, cock pulsing enticingly against your fingers, and he groaned into your mouth.

Nanami's last reservations about your willingness fell away completely, and he grabbed your jaw roughly, his hand extending to your throat and squeezing the sides, deepening his kiss. You squeaked again, your nails digging into his chest, heat flooding through you as he maintained the pressure of your hand holding his cock behind his belt, rutting forwards into your palm. Nanami felt his pleasure beginning to peak, too early, and held his hips and your hand still for a moment,your panting breaths mingling together.

Silent, heart visibly racing through the thick veins in his neck, Kento dropped to his knees in front of you. His expression stern, determined, he gripped the front seam of your trousers and ripped them open as if they were made of paper, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time, daring you to stop him. Lifting your thighs onto his shoulders as you gasped, wordless and chest heaving, your hands fell flat against the wall behind you, and Nanami rubbed his nose and lips against your puffy folds, all but completely exposed behind your soaked underwear. You clapped your hand over your mouth to keep from crying out as he inhaled deeply through his nose, euphoric in the smell of you.

"Do you want me to stop?" he hummed, the vibrations rumbling through your clit as you moaned, a high-pitched keening sound. Instinctively, both hands came off the wall to sink into Nanami's damp blond hair, pulling hard at the roots, holding his face between the heat of your legs. Rumbling his approval, Nanami's fingers swiped your underwear to the side, his tongue delving deeply between your folds, immediately beginning to flick insistently over your clit.

All rational thoughts went out of the window as Nanami licked and sucked between your legs, full attention paid to your pleasure, as you fell apart around him, thighs squeezing his head. Nanami's strong hands cupped your bum through your trousers, kneading the plush fat as he took your clit into his lips and sucked, feeling you shake as you approached the edge.

"Do you want me to stop?" he growled, and you couldn't stop yourself from whining your displeasure as he halted just before your orgasm hit you. Giving you no chance to answer, he took your clit firmly between his lips again, mouth and tongue hot and wet between your folds as you came, crying out and trembling, both hands clawing desperately at his hair, blinded by the peppering lights in your eyes.

Giving you no time to snap back to reality, you felt yourself being lifted and heaved over Nanami's shoulder.  He kicked the bathroom door open, carrying you through to the bedroom and lounge, dimly lit by the Tokyo skyline outside. Nanami dropped you on your back onto the table, positioning you until your head hung off the edge. Neck extended as you stared up at him, panting, eyes glazed, Nanami hummed as he slowly fingered the outline of your throat, his other hand undoing his belt. You gulped, mouth watering as you realised his intentions.

Lifting his heavy cock out of his trousers, Nanami began to stroke it, thumb swiping across the leaking tip, and he looked down at you, pupils blown with lust. He pressed two fingers into your mouth, shuddering with anticipation as he felt your tongue run against his fingers, licking the precum off his fingertips.

"Do...you want me to stop?" He forced out, pupils dilating as you opened your mouth for him slowly, invitingly. "Oh, fuck," groaned Nanami, pressing his length past your lips, hissing as the sensitive tip glided over your tongue and hit the back of your throat, curving to its shape, and he bucked into you, hands gripping your jaw and throat with bruising force as you gagged around him.

Nanami pulled out for long enough for you to take a deep breath through your nose, before fucking your throat with total abandon. Your wet gags and sloppy occasional breaths sent him reeling, his fingers resting on the outer edges of your throat thrilling him as he felt his cock bully past them. Hearing Nanami cursing, his voice breaking with stuttered moans, you felt heat coil in your belly, hands reaching out to grip his wet thighs to ground yourself. You felt so used, eyes streaming into your hair as he reached down your body, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reached between your legs and curved two fingers up into your pussy, still wet from his tongue, his thumb swiping urgently over your clit. You convulsed, your hypersensitive clit tossing you into a painful second orgasm as your muscles fluttered against his curled fingers.

"Do you...do you want-- ahhh, fuck, take it take it, you're such a good girl," Nanami caged youin, hands flat on the table beside your waist, his balls hot and heavy against your nose as he came with a shout, rivers of cum trickling down your throat as you gagged, nails digging into his thighs as he rutted into your mouth, stunned by the strength of his orgasm. He pulled out of your mouth, sweaty and panting, his abs heaving in front of your face, stroking drops of his seed away from the sides of your mouth as you gasped and coughed on the table.

"Not enough," he gasped, stroking himself, half-hard already as the sight of you, spread and messy with cum on the table, "it's not enough. I'm not finished with you yet." You began to sit up, turning on the table, moving slowly towards him as he spoke again, stumbling and sweating, "Do you want me to--" Nanami was cut off by your kiss, forceful and determined as you locked your arms behind his neck.

Groaning appreciatively, carrying your weight as you locked your legs around his waist, Nanami stumbled to the bed, kicking off his trousers and beginning to rip your clothes off you. Your breasts freed, he latched aggressively onto your nipples, growling against you, completely absorbed in his plan to pound you into the mattress until you saw stars.

You bit into his shoulder blade as your trousers and underwear were flung unceremoniously aside, grabbing his cock and guiding it to your entrance, where he bottomed out in one smooth thrust, making you shriek as your pussy stretched, and you grasped onto him as you struggled to accommodate his size. Unexpectedly intimate, Nanami clasped his hand to yours, joined as he braced on his forearm above your head.

"I can't...I can't stop," Nanami choked out, slamming into you with a force that had you reeling. Barely held in place as his hips slammed yours up the bed, you locked your ankles behind Kento's hips, and he grasped you, pressing your knees to your chest until you were folded in two. Feeling his eye patch about to slip loose, and momentarily afraid you'd be disgusted by him, Nanami buried his face in your neck, grunting with every thrust as you mewled in his ear, your fingers deep in his hair, causing shivers down his spine.

You groaned, sultry and guttural, as his thick cock pounded your cervix, shuddering as you came, heat deep in your belly as Kento collapsed onto you, weak and drained as his seed filled you again, so overwhelmed by pleasure that he thought he may have seen god for a moment.

Flopping beside you on the bed, Nanami patted around above your head for his eye patch. Your hand reached up, grabbing his, lowering it to clasp together between your bodies. Nanami felt his chest clench, momentarily touched by your companionship and easy acceptance of his broken body.

"...what the hell am I going to tell Jujutsu High?" You groaned, as Nanami laughed richly, shooting you a wicked look.

"You'll come with me, then?"

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[predestinatos]

warm enough for you | CL16 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: charles has a special way of getting under your skin, especially when he insists on staying after the party is over. chapter 1 of an ongoing series.

tags: enemies to lovers, smut with a bit of plot, cocky!charles, bratty!yn

word count: 3.6k

minors dni ──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !! warnings & note underneath

warnings: smut, drunk (tipsy) sex, oral (f!receiving), penetration, unprotected sex.

author's note: first time attempting at writing smut and posting anything so please keep up with me. currently working on part 2.

Everyone was slowly leaving your apartment, the party reaching its natural end. Bottles were scattered across your living room, but apart from that, the flat was not as messy as expected. The party was more of a get together, given the small venue where you lived.

You were dizzy, the alcohol getting to your head and body, but conscious enough to decide that you could still clean things up before going to sleep. You waited for everyone to leave, and as you were getting ready to finally let out a deep breath you seemed to be holding the whole night, you notice someone standing, leaning against the kitchen doorframe. “Fuck you scared the shit out of me,” you start. His tall figure contrasted with the multicolored shadows of your living room, still dancing to a rhythm that was no longer there.

Then he chuckled. You knew it was him, he did not have to make a sound for you to recognize his frame, the way he always crossed his arms when he looked at you, as if in constant judgment. But if you had any doubts, that sound gave you all the certainty you needed. It was the chuckle he let out before a snarky remark. “I’m sorry, princess, I didn’t know you were so sensitive…” and there it was. The pet name used solely to annoy you, the tone that clarified his only purpose was to get under your skin.

“I would argue with you, but honestly I just want to clean up so please leave, thank you.” It was true. You enjoyed entertaining this back and forth, feeling him getting more and more irritated yet pleased with himself. But you were not in the mood for it, at least not now. Your head was softly spinning and taking your mind off of things is exactly what you need.

As you walk past him to the living room, in an attempt to showcase how you were not going to even acknowledge him, let alone join him in his games, he pushes himself off of the doorframe. “Just thought you could use some help.”

This was ridiculous, and you let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. Since when does he want to help you? Ever since the day you two met, he made it his mission to be as unhelpful as he could, rolling his eyes at everything you said, giving counter arguments to your opinions even if he agreed with them, all whilst smiling towards you with the look of pleasure over someone’s anger. You tried your best to avoid him, but it was impossible to do so, since your friend group was the same. Wherever you went, there he was, and vice versa. Eventually, obviously, you started acting the same way towards him as he did with you, and this just amused your friends even more. That was why he was here, in your apartment. He comes with the friends package, whether you like it or not.

Once again, apart from the laugh, you said nothing else. Instead, you leaned down and started picking up the empty bottles from the floor, whilst the lights kept changing colors from blue to purple to red. To your surprise, you hear him do the same, although he stumbles on himself a bit more than you. “Lightweight” you say, smirking, making your way towards the kitchen to put the bottles in a trash bag. That, and because the silence in the living room was too loud, made it too tight for both of you to fit.

As you placed the empty bottles carefully in the bag, avoiding the loud noise of glass on glass to heighten your soon to come headache, you feel a hand on your waist. His hand. His grip was tight and soft at the same time, sending shivers down your body which contrast with your annoyance. “Excuse me” he said behind you, almost whispering in your ear. His hand left your waist as fast as it got there, an indication of how he was aware you wanted more. “Was this less scary?” he asked, ironically.

You turned to look at him, almost ignoring the fact that you were trapped against the balcony as his body. You could feel his gaze on yours, and while you tried to hold it, you realized you couldn’t. The best you could do was run a hand through your hair in an attempt to disguise the tension running through your body. “You’re such an asshole” you said.

He finally looked away while smiling to himself, staring out the window. You took a second to notice the way his throat bobbed up and down, his hair was messy and careless due to the alcohol on his system which lowered his inhibitions. “You like it though.” Before you could turn away, his gaze stared at your again. His breathing was heavier than usual, the drunken smirk on his face juxtaposing with his furrowed eyebrows and darkened eyes. His face was so close, too close, for you to think straight. You looked at his lips, breaking eye contact once again, letting him win once again. “You wish” was all you could reply.

Without moving, his voice asked in defiance, “so what if I do?” You could feel his eyes exploring your body, his chest rising and falling in deep, steady, too controlled breaths. The red light in the living room shone behind him, highlighting his shape hovering above you. “That’s rich coming from you” you snickered. As much as you were feeling the tension between you both, as much as your teasing and bickering was reaching to a degree of immense repressed desire every time you two were in the same room, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. You couldn’t.

The first time you two met, he went out of his way to drunkenly inform you, at a club, that you two “would never happen” and that he “would never fuck you.” To this day you fail to understand where the comment came from, to this day you don’t understand why he hates you so much but insists on making his presence known to you.

At first he seemed confused at your comment, his eyes searching your face for an explanation, but soon enough they widen in realization. Letting out a soft laugh, Charles ran his hands through his hair, making it even messier. “You still think about that?”

It was a ridiculous question, and he knew it. It was hard to hear something like that from someone who you basically had just met, even though he was drunk when he said it. You had not even had time to consider any sort of thing happening between you two and he had already declared it impossible. It seemed unbelievable that someone could be so full of himself to the point of declaring he was not going to bed with you, even before you showed any interest.

You pushed him away softly, and he did not stop you, despite his clear disappointment. That emotion was quickly replaced by a raising of eyebrows as he saw you open the door to the fridge and taking out two cold beers, handing him one. “You don’t seem to be leaving anytime soon, so help yourself.” Was all you could say.

This behavior could be explained by the alcohol running through both of your veins already, by your tiredness over the night, or the sheer need for company you had been needing for a while. You moved towards the living room again, slouching down on the sofa, and you needed not look back to know Charles was following you.

He lifted your legs, which were resting softly on the couch, only to sit down and place them on his lap carefully, with a grin splattered across his face. His side profile revealed a certain rigidness, his jaw tight and tense, but his eyes were soft and calm. “Did you mean it, though?” you asked. You seemed to have interrupted his thoughts, because his expression was lost at your sudden break of silence in the dark room.

“What do you think?” he asked back, never willing to give you the upper hand or satisfaction of a normal conversation. You tried to distract yourself from his cold hand caressing your leg, mostly because you did not know how much of it was intentional. He seemed to be doing it so nonchalantly and carelessly, you wondered if most of it was just instinct.

You tried to calm your voice before you replied, even though the first word that came out of your mouth sounded deeper and higher at the same time, uneven and nervous. “Well- I think, according to what you said that nigh-“ you started, but couldn’t finish. He did not allow you to, interrupting you and turning his face to you for the first time since you two sat down. “I know you’re not that dense, princess.”

Even in the darkly lit room, you felt his gaze burning your skin, focusing on your lips, then your neck. Meanwhile, you stared at his hand, moving slightly up your leg, sending shivers throughout your whole body, shivers you wish he did not notice, but knew, deep down, he was aware of. He knew the effect these had on you, he knew how to please, because that was his reputation. And you hated it at first, hated that he was so confident in his skills and so utterly arrogant about them, but now it only aroused you even more. You took a big sip of your beer, in an attempt to cool your now burning body.

That seemed to remind Charles he was himself holding a bottle of beer in his own hand, because upon seeing you swallow the liquid, he looked at the hand which was holding it. Moving it in order to hold it by the neck, grinning to himself in proud arrogance, he brought it close to your skin, your body hissing in pleasure at the temperature. You closed your eyes and exhaled softly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much this seemingly simple action affected you, but also not wanting him to stop.

He whispered your name, the request for you to look at him implicit in his voice, and you complied. His movements did not stop, a slow game he seemed to be playing with you, in an attempt to see how far he could go. “You look so fucking hot,” he breathed.

Your body was aflame with lust, and so was his, you could tell. You could see him struggling to even speak clearly, to move clearly, trying his best to control his movements which threatened to unleash themselves. “Careful, Charles, you don’t want to break your promise,” you teased, as you slowly moved closer to him, both in defiance of his actions and tempting him to proceed with them.

He freed both of his hands as you placed yourself directly in front of him, sitting on his lap, feeling his erection through his jeans. “You’re making it very hard for me not to do it” he murmured. “Am I?” you asked again. You were feeling bold, enjoying how both of you were toying with the thin line between hate and desire, between forbidden and allowed. Charles merely nodded hungrily, his hands placed on your hips, caressing them softly.

Your pulse quickened at the touch, but also at his greedy and dark expression. You moved your hands towards his shirt, which you start unbuttoning slowly, revealing more and more of his skin slowly. Before you could move to the fourth button, he abruptly grabs a hold of your wrists and pins you to the sofa, underneath his frame. “Stop being such a fucking tease,” he demanded with an aggressive ardor in his voice. With that, he guided your hand which he was still holding towards his erection. You realized the agony he must be in, how his cock must be throbbing underneath those layers of fabric. You felt weak yourself, with an intoxicating need to undress, to ignite the fire that was visibly about to burst into crimson flames.

“You deserve it” you replied with a smirk. It didn’t seem to convince him, this attempt of yours at seeming stronger and unaffected by what was happening. You and him were playing a game but it was getting too real, too intense, too tempting. Letting go of your hand and getting closer to you, his lips mere inches away from yours, he placed a hand between your legs, feeling the pooling wetness growing. Your whole body shuddered at this, a moan escaping your lips and giving you away. “You’re just making it harder for yourself,” he whispered smugly, lips brushing against yours.

Desperately you pulled him in for a kiss. His kiss was filled with intoxicating craving, a groan escaping his lips at the sudden action, his hips grinding against you in frenzied movements. Breaking your kiss, his lips moved towards your neck, softly biting it and leaving wet marks as he kept going down. You undid the knot holding your short dress together, thanking yourself for the easy-access choice of wardrobe.

As he kissed your stomach and paused at your navel, looking up at you as if asking for confirmation. You looked at him and saw how he looked: disheveled and flushed, his cheeks red and messy hair. He looked absolutely mesmerizing, the mix of complete submission but demanding attitude affecting your body through a quickened pulse. You could only nod your permission, finding yourself at a loss of words. He did not hesitate to pull down your lacy underwear, leaving you exposed to him, feeling his warm breath against you. All at once, his lips were exploring your opening, followed by his tongue, moving with ravish.

You cried audibly in pleasure, your back arching against him in untamed pleasure. Unable to hold his own need for pleasure, Charles unzipped his jeans and began stroking himself. His ragged grunts made your body melt in jolts of bliss, and watching him touching himself as he ate you out sent you completely over the edge.

He raised his eyes at you as he kept savoring you, some of his hair sticking to his forehead, his gaze filled with contrasting innocence and total control over you. He pulled his lips away from you, placing himself above your frame, making you look so small in comparison to him. He hovered over you, shirt completely unbuttoned, hand still pleasuring his cock, visibly throbbing with need. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight of him, face wet from your juices and his saliva, chest rising and falling incoherently. “I knew you’d love it” he breathed out.

It was admirable, really. How he still teased you and made it his mission to get under your skin, even like this. “That’s all you’ve got?” you replied, eyebrows raised, eyes half closed in unspoken defiance. “You’re jerking yourself off like a desperate teenager and I’m the one ‘loving it’?” you were testing him. Trying to see how much you could push him over the edge, annoy him, how he would take it out on you – or not.

“God you’re such a fucking brat” he hissed, holding your body with ease and turning you around, lying on your stomach. With his knees, he spread your legs apart and positioned himself between them. You felt him lower himself down, preparing yourself to be filled up, to quench the thirst growing at every passing second but- nothing was happening.

“What the fuck-“ you complained, annoyed. It was slightly embarrassing, your frustration over how long he was taking, and when you turned your head around slightly to see what was wrong, you saw that he had won. He was doing it on purpose, despite his own desperation to bury himself inside you. Amused, he chuckled bringing his hand to your back, caressing it as if to ease your pain in mocking comfort. “You have to tell me what you want, princess.”

“You can’t be serious” you hissed back. But he was, and you knew it. You had gotten this far already, and yet he would not let this go, and you did not know why he insisted so much. You had no idea how much it turned him on to see that only he could affect you like he did, to see how much control he had over you.

Rolling your eyes and doing your best at a monocordic voice, you complied “fuck me, Charles.” Yes, you were being bratty and petty, and yes, you would do anything just for him to fill the emptiness you were feeling inside you.

“You’re such a brat,” he growls as he thrusts himself into you. Your instantly arch your back in pain ad pleasure, feeling his whole body vibrating into you with untamed hunger. His hands grip your waist and force you to switch from a lying position to all fours, allowing him to access you easier. He continued his thrusts as he left bites on the back of your neck, and you filled the room with your cries.

He was not being soft or sweet about it. Charles was completely immersed in his need to have you, so much so that he could barely see anything apart from you, back arched in pleasure for him, the switching lights illuminating every curve of your body in sensuous effect. He dreamt about possessing you like this so often, thought about how good you’d feel so many times, that what was happening seemed to him unreal. He felt himself close to coming as you clenched around him, but before he could so, he pulled himself out of you.

 “Not yet,” he started. His voice was husked and lazy, a reflection of how much restraint it was taking him not to fill you up already. You were about to protest, being so close yourself, but as you turned around you found yourself mesmerized by the sight of him. His green eyes were glossy, his face completely flushed and sweaty from withhold pleasure. As you stared at him, he raised an eyebrow and gave you a half-smile. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, doing nothing to fix it, but it didn’t matter. He seemed almost shy about how you were looing at him, which was insane and ridiculous, given what you were doing, what you were.

 “I want to look at you” you said. This caused Charles’ eyes to widen in surprise, not expecting your bluntness. Even you were shocked at what you said and how demanding you sounded, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Holding one of your ankles and placing it on his shoulder, Charles entered you with unleashed violence, his gazed interlocked with yours. You thought about how pornographic the view must be for him as well, your swollen lips, some tears of pleasure running through your cheeks, and a sloppy smile plastered across your face. You feel absolutely lightheaded, almost drunk with ecstasy. “Putain, j'aime quand tu me regardes comme ça” he said, French escaping his lips as he loses all capacity to form coherent thoughts. This just made your pulse quicken, your skin bursting with fulfillment.

 His pace fastened even more, as he grunted and throbbed with how good he felt inside you. “Your cunt feels so fucking good” he kept repeating, his eyebrows furrowed as if attempting to delay his orgasm. “Charles, I- I’m gonna cum” you try telling him, between breaths and moans. “Fuck, fuck, look at me” he demanded, holding your face so it wouldn’t move away from his gaze. With that, you erupted in pleasure, completely undone beneath him, body trembling.

The view was so overwhelming, Charles couldn’t help but come as well, filling you up with fervent ardor, his body falling limply on top of yours. He remained there, his breathing uneven and erratic, just like yours.

You both lost track of time as you lay there, together. You could have fallen asleep like that, maybe you had, there was no way to tell. He felt warm and comfortable against you, and you felt so close and secure to him that neither of you dared to move.

After a while, his fingers starting drawing small, invisible designs on your still sensitive skin, causing you to giggle. For some time, you two just existed together with nothing else retraining your behavior, your own hands playing with his soft hair, a tired smile on his face.

You wake up with light filling your living room, giving you momentary blindness. The headache was done with its threat to show up, now attacking you with full force, limiting your movements and thoughts. Despite everything, you remembered the night before. Even if you did not, there was evidence that something had happened – or, better, there wasn’t any, and that’s what caught your attention.

The living room was pristine and looked untouched. You were fully dressed in some comfortable clothes, and the TV was on despite the fact that its volume was almost fully off. It seemed as if this was an ordinary day, but you knew it wasn’t.

You grabbed your phone and stared at its screen empty of any sort of texts, notifications or messages. Nothing to prove the night before. You knew it was a mistake to do so, but you couldn’t help typing out the text:

To: Charles (Asshole) Hey, got home safe? (11:33am)

All you got back was a small text underneath yours, which said “Read (11:47)”

[callme-holly]

Hello!

So I came across your post about The Outsiders requests and if you are still taking them I have one! And if you don't really like the sound of this or don't feel comfortable writing this that's more than okay!

But, if you are comfortable with it..

I was thinking a Darry x Reader where the reader is drunk and Darry brings her to his place and takes care of her. Stuff like where she is in one of his shirts that is way to big on her, and like if the other boys are being to loud he will get very defensive and tell them to quiet down since the reader is hungover. Just little things like that in it.

Thank you!! <3

𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 [𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚/𝐧 : i kind of really love this

The whole room spun as Darry set you carefully down onto the couch, your mind reeling, feeling sluggish and heavy with fatigue. It’s not like you’d meant to get drunk; it had just sort of happened; one drink turned into two, and then another, until you were a stumbling, giggling mess. 

It hadn't taken long, however, for the novelty to wear off, the initial pleasant buzz dissipating and leaving you feeling nauseated and tired, your eyelids growing heavy with each passing second. If it weren't for the fact that Darry was currently holding onto your shoulder in an attempt to support you, you probably would have passed out right there on the couch without so much as a second thought. He was trying his best not to look worried, but, even in your inebriated state, you could see the way he kept biting at the edge of his lip, the slight furrow of his brow giving him away entirely. 

It’s not like you were the only drunk person in the room; the other boys were far worse off than you. Two-Bit and Steve were practically tripping over themselves, and Dallas had dragged himself off home, refusing to accept the help offered. Soda hadn’t consumed a single drop of alcohol, yet he was still bouncing around, laughing loudly, and to anyone who didn’t know him personally, they would think he was just as wasted as everyone else. 

A sharp sting of pain tore through you, hammering at your skull as Steve let out a particularly shrill cackle that seemed to reverberate through the room, causing you to wince. You closed your eyes and let your head thud back against the cushions, trying desperately to focus on anything but the dull throbbing behind your eyes. 

“Hey, darlin',” Darry's voice sounded soft, barely above a whisper, as you felt his cool hand gently press against your forehead, smoothing down the hair that fell in loose waves over your face. “What’d you say we go run you a nice bath, hm? Might help with that hangover.” 

You don’t have the energy to fight him on the offer; in fact, a warm bath sounds almost heavenly right about now. The room spins again as you nod numbly, limp in Darry’s arms, as he scoops you up and carries you slowly towards the bathroom, the voices and shouts of the other boys becoming more and more distant until they’re nothing but a muffled hum behind the closed door. 

Your mind swims, and you struggle to stay awake, blinking your eyes rapidly to clear them before they start drooping shut. Darry is still speaking, though you can’t seem to make out what he’s saying, his voice sounding too quiet for you to be able to pick apart the words. He spends a few moments fussing over the water, making sure it's not too hot, before turning back to you, carefully removing your clothes, and setting them aside to be washed later. His movements are gentle and slow, and you lean against him, relying heavily on him to keep you upright, your legs feeling unsteady beneath you.

He wraps his arms around your waist, cradling you close to him, his chest pressed against yours as he holds you close, guiding you to the tub with the same care as someone who is handling a small child. He lowers you gingerly into the water, fingers carding through your hair as you sink into the warmth, letting the heat consume you entirely, your eyes finally fluttering shut and a contented hum leaving your lips. 

You feel weightless, completely relaxed, your body drained of everything except for the sweet, blissful sensation of Darry’s hands running through your hair and over your shoulders. 

“Better?” He murmurs, his thumb stroking softly across your skin, drawing a hum of affirmation from you. 

“Better,” you answer, your own voice slurred with exhaustion. “Much better.” 

Darry smiles faintly at you, kissing the top of your head in a way that could only be described as tender. He washes you slowly, massaging shampoo into your scalp with practiced hands and scrubbing down your body with careful deliberation. Every once in a while, one of his hands leaves your side to stroke lightly across your cheek or to brush away a stray lock of hair sticking to your face. 

You don’t remember when he started talking to you, mumbling under his breath about how he’d told you to go easy on the drink, nor do you know when he’d started to drain the soapy water surrounding you, leaving you cold and shivering. Your eyes are still half-lidded, your mind hazy, your body heavy with sleep. But Darry keeps murmuring to you, brushing kisses across your cheeks and jawline, your forehead, your temple. His voice is soothing, low, and rich with a hint of something you can’t place, that southern drawl coming out as thick as honey. 

A towel is draped loosely over your shoulders as Darry guides you out of the tub, making quick work of drying you off and sitting you down on the edge of the closed toilet seat. He kneels down in front of you then, his large, calloused hand resting on your knees, flashing you a small smile.

“Do me a favour and wait here. I’ll go get you something to change into, alright?” 

You can only nod in response; any other answer would be deemed unacceptable, and you’d be made to wait here regardless. 

 You watch as he disappears into the hall, thecacophonyy of shouts and laughter reaching your ears the second the door opens, only to be muffled just as fast as it swings shut with a barely audible click, leaving you alone. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to force away the heaviness clinging to your limbs, the fuzzy feeling beginning to creep into your head, and the headache pounding behind your eyes. 

You don’t know how long you’re sitting like that, trying your hardest not to give in to sleep, but after a while, Darry steps back into the bathroom, a glass of water in one hand and a pile of clean clothes in the other. You blink blearily at him, watching as he kneels before you once more, setting the clothes aside and bringing the glass to your lips.

“Take a few sips for me, sweetheart. It’ll help the headache.” You comply, accepting small sips until your stomach decides it's had enough and you're forced to pull back, a slightly disgruntled expression on your face. Darry doesn’t force the issue, simply removing the towel and dressing you in nothing but his shirt and boxers, both items hanging off your frame loosely, the fabric soothing against your skin.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re burying your face into his chest with a quiet whine, pressing yourself firmly against him, your arms clutching his waist like a lifeline, as if you're afraid he'll leave if you ever let go of him. 

Darry chuckles softly in amusement, rubbing your back reassuringly, his chin resting atop your head. 

“I think we should get you in bed,” he whispers, his voice rumbling deep within his chest, sending a shudder down your spine. “I'll get the boys to quiet down, and then I'll come join you, yeah?”

“Okay,” you murmur, nuzzling closer to him, closing your eyes. You feel his arms tighten around you, holding you close, enveloping you in warmth as he presses a gentle kiss into your hair. 

You want to ask him not to go, to keep hold of you and never let you go, but you also know it won't be long before he's beside you once more, pulling you tightly into his embrace and promising he will never, ever, let anything happen to you. And you trust him more than anything in the world.

[howlett-n-morgan]

Take Me Home

6. Down The Road

Arthur Morgan x Texas Red!Reader

A/n: i just was scrolling through tumblr and saw a post that a girl on twitter made and it was talking about a hot dad and I was like 'that's so me' and then at the end of the post it talked about how he called her miss aven and I threw my phone across the room because my name is also aven and i guess I am not the only one but anyways yeah all aven's are hot if ur name is aven ur hot.

Summary: The men of camp have begun to act strange, and Arthur seems to be the only one standing out... until a particular train job goes terribly wrong, then all bets are off.

Warnings: Not many, just some angst, canon typical violence, misogyny, and arguing... oh and some blood :)

WC: 12.5k (I went very insane last week)

He sensed your awkward reaches, even if he didn’t see them. He adjusted himself on the saddle before meeting your hands behind his back and pulling them around his sides to hold on. Your breath caught in your throat from how casually he’d done it, and how softly he touched you.  “That’s a nice flower in your hair, by the way,” he muttered, not even looking back before grabbing the reins and leading the horse out of camp. 

It was nearing fall again, and a year since you first arrived at camp, but things were beginning to get hectic. Not just with the attitudes of people in camp, but with the local law of Agua Fria getting more involved in the jobs the gang was pulling. You weren’t quite sure if you should be thankful for the distraction, or worried that it could make things worse for you. As far as you know, there’s not been bad feelings towards you, but there certainly weren’t friendly ones, either. It’s strange, since right after everyone found out your secret, they almost revered you in a way they hadn’t before. You supposed the walking on eggshells had to cease eventually.

The only people brave enough to talk to you now are Arthur and Hosea… you can’t say you don’t understand why. The lies finally caught up with most people, and it seemed to only get worse as time went on.

The men weren’t the only ones shunning you, either. The women, minus Tilly, were very straight and to the point if they had to speak with you, and if they didn’t, they just avoided you at any cost. 

It was beginning to feel more lonesome, almost like before you joined up with the Van Der Linde’s. 

The moment that all of it came to a head was around the campfire one night. You hadn’t spoken a word in fear of being over-talked or interrupted. You wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of cutting you off. 

Bill was the first to become irrationally drunk. Sean and Mac were next. You could swear Javier was drunk, too, but with every drink he took, his guitar rhythm never stuttered. Arthur was teetering on the edge of drunkenness, but the man was a unit, and it took a lot of alcohol to turn his mind. 

You felt relaxed enough to hit the bottle that Sean had set down, but then all eyes were on you. 

You forgot. The women don’t drink unless there’s a special occasion, though you aren’t quite sure why. You set the bottle down and let your eyes stay on the ground when you do until the conversation starts back up again. 

Arthur doesn’t really participate, he stays out of most of it, as do you. If you’re being honest, you don’t know why you sit at the fire with them anymore, because they don’t seem to give a shit if you do, and don’t seem to revere you like when they hadn’t been exposed to your secret. 

When the drunken chatter of the Agua Fria women comes up, you’re glad you took enough of a swig to boost your confidence. 

“I think they’re fine and what not,” Bill stumbles over his wording, barely making any sense. “Them girls in Charleston Town were better…”

“Better at what exactly?” You chimed in, finally taking part in the conversation.

“Screwin’, mostly… other things too I guess,” he coughed a little after speaking, taking yet another drink out of his mug. 

“Why’s it matter?” Sean started in, and though you understood he was a good kid and just mildly outspoken, you hated how these little talks seemed to only have started now that they knew about you. Almost like they’re pushing it in your face.

“Maybe because it don’t sit right with me, comparin’ girls like that,” you shook your head. It’s like talking to a sack of bricks, and it won’t change anything, but you try anyway. It angers you, how they used to talk about interesting things around the campfire. Sure, sex came up from time to time, but it was never just about their views of women and the only things they’re good for.

“You don’t needa worry, we ain’t comparin’ you,” Bill laughed, and even got the Calendar boys snickering under their breath. They should be keeping their mouths shut, since they were out of camp when everyone found out about you in the first place. They didn’t even realize it when they came back. 

“That’s because you’ve never had me,” you argued, and you could feel Arthur tense up beside you, almost like he was bracing himself for what he knew was coming. 

“I could if I wanted to.” The pure audacity, and all because of some drunken words. Bill was never your favorite amongst camp goers, but he’d grown on you when he got to know you as Charlie… Now it seems he hates your guts and will do anything to antagonize you. “I bet you’re nice n’ easy, huh darlin’?”

“You’re the last person in camp I’d let have me, jackass.”

Some colorful words for a pretty girl like you. At least Bill thought so. 

“You say that now… but I bet it didn’t take too much convincing to get you to spread 'em’ for Arthur,” he motioned to the gruff and stone-faced man beside you. 

“Knock it off, Bill,” Arthur chimed in, knowing that if he didn’t, the man would push you to your limits and then maybe you’d shoot him. Knowing that you didn’t miss your shots was a good reason to step in, even if he knew you could hold your own. 

“You can tell me, ol buddy,” Bill kept on, leaning forward. “Was it smooth as silk, or drier than the texas desert?” 

Everyone else in the circle was pretty damn quiet by this time, just watching as Bill repeatedly made a bigger fool of himself. They had participated, but only to a certain degree… but this felt too messy, and they didn’t wanna chance stepping in it. Especially where Arthur was concerned.

“I said knock it off,” Arthur was more stern, but felt the need to defend your honor further, and clear your name. “She ain’t done nothing with no one in this camp, ya hear me?” 

Bill let out a low and long whistle, looking back to you and seeing that your face was flushed. You were thankful for Arthur sticking up for you, but with the look on Bill’s face, it may have been just a touch too far. 

“Alright, Arthur… I believe ya,” he chuckled, eyes narrowing in while everyone still watched on. “You know, seein’ things clearly makes me think you’re the opposite of what I said.”

“What do you mean?” You furrowed your brow in concern. You should have never asked. 

“Boys,” he laughed out, nudging Mac to his left and slapping his knee in gleeful manner. “I’d say we’ve got ourselves a virgin.”

Your eyes widened, and immediately you were panicking. You’d never felt unsafe in the camp until right now, with the gaze of half the men in camp beginning to take you in as if it were for the first time. The way you reacted, they knew it to be true, and you weren’t sure what you could even say or do to hide it at this point. 

“You ain’t got any idea what you’re talkin’ about, Williamson,” you tried to defend, and Arthur jumped on the bandwagon. 

“That’s enough,” he grumbled, standing to his feet, offering you a hand to yours. “You’re all too damn drunk to even be livin’ right now.”

He issued a few less kind words that ushered them off to bed, and they dispersed from the circle, most of them to their sleeping arrangements. 

Arthur went with you to your tent, and at first you weren’t sure why he stayed so close. When you went inside and he tried to close the flaps you stopped him. 

“I can close up, I’m not quite tired yet…”

He gave you a respectful nod, but still held the flaps in his hand. “I just think that maybe you should close ‘em. I’ll stay outside here for a while just to make sure nothin’ happens,” he explained, but now you were fearful. 

“What would happen?” You ask with the same amount of fear creeping into your voice. 

“Nothin’, I won’t let it,” he assured you, but even though he brought some ease to your mind, he didn’t answer your question. 

“Arthur, what would happen to me?” 

“I don’t know… I don’t think they’re stupid enough to try anything, but…” he trailed, his voice leading off into a soft spoken tone.

“But?” 

“Bill is very drunk right now, and he’s had some problems in the past,” he didn’t want you to think Bill was some sort of evil man, but if only for right now, he wanted you to be cautious of him. “Just want you safe, is all.”

You looked at him for a moment before concocting an idea. Probably a bad one, but that remains to be seen. 

“Would you come sit with me a while?” 

He looked back outside the tent, where across the camp, a few of the men still lingered, watching from a distance. Looking back to you, he couldn’t say no. It’s been part of his new curse, unwilling to see you upset or in need of anything at all. He doesn’t even know why, but his brain won’t let him function like he used to. 

“I s’pose, but it’ll fuel their rumors that we…” he let his words fall off, but you knew what he was getting at. 

“That’s the point,” you told him, a nervous smile on your face. “If you don’t mind the rumors, that is.”

“M’not understandin’,” he shook his head. Wasn’t that the whole reason he had to interject in the first place? To clear your name of any intimate relations with him that had been suspected?

“Even if it’s just lyin, maybe they’ll leave me alone,” you explained. The thought of people thinking you were impure was a strange one, but you’re sure it beats the feeling of being hunted like prey. 

“Alright,” he nodded, looking at you with a decent smile. “Yeah, it’s alright with me, Red.”

You smiled in relief, suddenly all too focused on how he was looking at you. His hat was tipped slightly, so the brim framed his eyes in the moonlight from outside. You closed the flaps and sat back down with him, trying to think of something to say. 

“How long do you think we oughta stay in here for?” 

He shrugged, leaning back against the furthermost tent pole. “For them to actually believe it? I’d say a few hours…”

“Oh, really?” you teased, crossing your arms and giving him a cynical look. 

He smirked, nodding his head around some. “I’m only kiddin’... mostly. But you can kick me out whenever it suits you.”

“So long as you’re willin’ to help me, stay as long as you want.”

He smiled again, genuinely, and though he could barely see your face in the dim light of the closed tent, the small hole in the fabric ceiling made for the prettiest glow in your hair. He got to thinking, and of course that’s a dangerous thing, but he had to ask. 

“If you don’t mind sayin’ so… why haven’t you uh-?” His gesture towards the campfire outside, still going but soon to be snuffed out by the desert winds. 

“Honestly?” you searched the files of your mind for something that didn’t sound too privileged. You knew you had it good growing up, and no one here could compare, but you still had issues that eventually changed your entire life. “My mother taught me to save myself for my husband.”

“Oh,” he furrowed his brow. Your wild and careless nature didn’t match what you were saying. “I didn’t take you for someone who would.”

“I’m not… but, I’ve been Charlie Brooks ever since I ran away, and no one ever knew me otherwise until you.” 

He seemed surprised, but it did make sense when he pieced it all together. You’d gotten so good at playing the role of a young man, that countless people believed it. So much so, that you’d never been able to take a lover, though multiple women tried.

“And what about now? You ever thought of it?” He asked gently, his questions, though a bit intrusive, didn’t feel hard to answer. You knew he was curious, and after what just took place, you felt you owed him at least a few things to be resolved. 

“I have, a few times,” you admitted, your voice becoming softer when you realized what you were about to share. It didn’t really matter, though, you trusted him more than anyone else in this world as it were, and knew he wouldn’t mock you. He acts all tough, but he’s a soft and gentle creature deep down. “I think I’m still gonna wait until I can give it to someone I love.”

He dipped his head. He definitely understood, and only wished he’d been wise enough to do the same. There was a time in his life before where he wishes he’d waited for a certain girl… but that was ages ago, and he knows his count is higher than it should be. 

“Do you think you’re close to findin’ that someone?” his voice was just above a whisper, now, and he knows that the question he’s asked is risky. He doesn’t know if he wants to know the answer, but without thinking, you give it to him. 

“Real close,” you told him, looking down at your hands when his dim-lit stare became too much.

“Yeah?” he smiled, genuinely and with a hope he hadn’t felt in a while. 

You nodded to him, tilting your head as you took him in. Not tonight… you’re not ready, and you know you won’t be for a while. It’s just then, however, that you’ve decided it will be him. You nearly decided that on the day you first arrived at camp. That day when he teased you and you swore on your life that you didn’t like him all that much… but then the very next day he went and surprised you. His kindness and gentleness will never be forgotten. 

“Thank you for doing this, Arthur. I know I’m probably dooming you to a whole list’a questions tomorrow, but I’m grateful.”

“You don’t needa thank me,” he shook his head, being his generous and benevolent self. “I’ll always help you, whatever ya need.”

You stayed silent for a moment until he chuckled under his breath. “What?”

“Oh nothin, just thinkin’ of the look on Bill’s face tomorrow.”

You gave it a single thought and it made you laugh, too. It would probably be a terribly inappropriate slew of nasty questions after a round of congratulations, but he would deal with it, not you. 

You crawled over next to him, sitting on the ground by his side, and leaning your head on his shoulder. He didn’t mind, nor did he say anything. He just picked up your hand that was laying strewn on your lap, and threaded your fingers together. It was a silent action, but both of you understood immediately what it meant. We’re gonna be something, just give it time.

You sighed in contentment and turned your head to look at him. His profile stared on into the edge of the tent wall, until he could feel your eyes on him. He looked back down at you, but didn’t make a move. That’s not what tonight was about, and there would be plenty of time for all of that soon, he was sure of it. He squeezed your hand and turned back to face the tent wall, dipping his hat a little. Maybe he’d fall asleep here, and it would be the perfect crime scene for everyone to experience the next morning. You’d no doubt let him slumber here throughout the night, but you’d likely drag him into the bed, knowing how sore his back got every now and then. 

You wanted to make sure he was comfortable, you wanted to take care of him. You knew by now all of his little quirks and strange necessities, and were willing to bend over backwards to make sure he got them. You were willing to do anything it took to make sure he smiled at you like he’d just done seconds ago, to keep that look on his face whenever your eyes met, even in a crowded room. 

You’d lasso the moon for him if he asked, and pull it down so he could know its beauty from a closer perspective. You’d come to the conclusion that no matter which way you framed it, you were in love with Arthur Morgan. Had been for some time, but denial was a strong presence within you, and you were stubborn as hell when it came to admission.

You both eventually fell asleep like that, leaning against each other on the ground, and no effort of getting into the bed came about.

-

Bill’s face was indeed priceless, but you think you got more of a laugh from Sean. You didn’t even need to see his face, you heard his hollering from across the camp. You’d been cleaning rifles when the other redhead’s bellowing voice made you giggle. You’re sure that Arthur was annoyed as hell, but you’ll thank him for putting up with everything later. 

The strangeness of the men lingered only a bit longer, but when a few days passed, and Arthur started acting more protective out of nature towards anything that was said about you, they backed off. In their minds, you were Arthur’s girl… Off limits to everyone else.

There were of course more than just the men who had heard about your ‘all nighter’ with Arthur.

The women, albeit a bit nosy, were actually quite fun to gossip with. It seemed like faking the loss of your innocence with Arthur did wonders for the whole camp and their acts of shunning you. Did it bother you? Only slightly… it would have been worse if you’d actually gone through with it and appeased the camp

“Is he a good kisser? He did kiss you, right?” and “Did it hurt? I bet it hurt, he’s a big man…” were your favorite contenders for questions asked. You did as you needed to, alluding to the facts without actually saying anything of substance. To be very clear, nothing happened in the tent that night, or in the morning before he left. You had no actual idea if anything you were hinting at was true, but that was the fun of it. 

“You measured your cycle, didn’t you? You don’t wanna end up like me,” Abigail chimed in, Jack thrashing around on her hip while he cried. He was a sweet baby, but sometimes he was just a mess to deal with, and being in a camp full of outlaws didn’t help anything. 

“Yeah, I did…”

“Did he uh… prepare you first?” Karen chimed in with her own curiosities, and a small giggle followed. They knew that Arthur was the best of the men, and he was good to women… but none of them had gotten up close and personal proof of that fact. 

“Yes?” You answered with a bout of confusion… preparation? Your mother never mentioned nothing about damn preparation.

“Lucky girl,” she sighed out, her eyes rolling dramatically. “You really are, I hope you know. Arthur’s the best of the men.”

“Oh I know, trust me,” you snickered at just how lucky you were. These girls were drooling over the details you gave them. All were false, but you knew he’d own up to every single one of them, because he was just that good and kind to you. He was like a loyal dog, Dutch said, and he was right. You were more than lucky to have his care and protection, and it started to feel intimate in a way that sex never could. 

There was a word for that, you think… devotion. 

“So, are you Arthur’s girl, now?” 

That one caught you off guard, because even with a fake answer, you weren’t quite sure what to say. 

“I don’t… I don’t know,” you answered truthfully for the first time that morning, and it was almost refreshing to speak something that wasn’t just a blatant lie. 

“It was just a one off, then?” Abigail furrowed her brows. Since she’d rejected Arthur’s offer, she’d been starting to feel some regret. He was indeed the best of the men, and she’d turned him away in favor of a man who left her. How silly that was… but she knows it’s too late, now.

“I hope not,” you said nervously, again with truth.

“You’re fond of him, we can all tell…” 

You looked at them with surprise and a bit of alarm. “Since when?”

Karen leaned in on her elbows with a small giggle at your reaction. She quieted herself as to not draw more attention to this side of camp, in fears Miss Grimshaw would come force them all to start back on the chores. 

“It’s funny, when we found out you weren’t a boy, everything kinda made sense,” she chuckled. 

Abigail kept nodding along, her smile broadening. “You used to follow him around like a puppy, we all thought it was because you looked up to him, wanted to be like him.”

“Even I could tell, and I’d been pretty blinded by my own fondness of you,” Tilly joked, nudging you in the arm as you’d come to the realization that even under the guise of Texas Red, you had absolutely no subtlety. 

“Was it that obvious?” you asked in annoyance with yourself. You dipped your head into your hands when they all nodded in the affirmative. 

The girls were about to start round two of questions when Dutch and Hosea came out of the center tent, Dutch commanding the attention of all the members in the camp. 

“Everyone, listen up!” His large and brutal steps seemed angry, and you waited patiently to find out why. “We’re moving camp!”

Everyone was immediately caught up in the new announcement, conquests of nights past becoming completely forgotten. Questions of ‘Why?’ and ‘What happened?’ were uttered, as this seemed very sudden. The cash flow from Agua Fria was rather booming, and it didn’t seem like there needed to be a move. 

“I’ve just gotten word from Davey that the Pinkertons know we’re here. They’re looking for the camp as we speak, so we’ve got to go.”

His intense speech was followed by everyone leaving where they were, running around and trying to get things packed into the wagons, tents included. 

You were new to the ‘being on the run’ part of outlaw life, as even before when you were just a gunslinger, the law never chased you. You’d earned a reputation for killin’ folk, but the law deemed you harmless when they found out that you only shot those who wanted to shoot you first. You’d not ever committed a real crime among the citizens, and even paid your way for everything. It was only after becoming a Van Der Linde that you figured you were about to be in trouble. 

You had your entire living situation torn down and packed up within the hour, tying it all together and slinging it in the back of Arthur’s wagon. You came around the corner and saw that he was still packing up. Being here longer meant he had quite a few more belongings to take care of. 

“Need some help?” You smiled at him, ready to lend a hand. 

“You done already?” He responded to your question with one of his own, pleasant surprise in his expression. 

“Not much to pack away,” you reasoned, no longer waiting for him to answer you as you started dismantling his cot and rolling up the canvas around the iron bar pieces. 

You were happy to help him get done faster, you’re sure with his strength and size he’d be needed elsewhere soon. You did have a few questions for him, though. 

“I don’t think I ever asked… When did you all get here?”

“Not long before you did, I reckon. We used to be able to stay years in the same spot, the law would never catch us…” he shook his head, tossing some picture frames he had into a sack. “Times are changin’ for folk like us.”

“You were here before me?” You asked in confusion. Obviously they were at the camp before you… but you’d been in Agua Fria for over a year yourself. 

“Yeah, and we’d all heard the stories about Texas Red before we even met ya,” he chuckled, his speed increasing the more he saw other members of camp rushing with panic to get moving before sundown. “The day Dutch brought you back, I almost thought he was kiddin'.”

“Glad to know I made a good impression,” you teased, a laugh being huffed out with slight annoyance while you heaved his clothing chest up and into the wagon. Probably a heavier item you should have left for him, but then that wouldn’t be helping. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He assisted you in shoving the chest further in the wagon, since you struggled just slightly, and didn’t want to bend over in your skirt. “I just had it in my head that you’d be all big n’ scary.”

“You mean more like you?” you taunted, giving him a smirk to show you didn’t actually think he was big and scary. 

“I guess so,” he shook his head, throwing his sack of belongings in with the other junk. “But then I first saw you, talkin’ with Tilly and Abigail… you looked all scrawny and what not. I thought, this can’t be the kid I’ve been hearin’ about.”

“And what do you think of me now?” You asked honestly, stopping the haste of the afternoon for only a moment to share a gaze with someone special to you. He stopped too, a side smile pulling at his lips when he answered. 

“I think you’re much scarier, now…” he trailed, reaching his hand to touch your hair where it had grown just below your ears. 

“You think I’m scary?” You raised your eyebrows in disbelief, his eyes meeting yours. 

“Terrifyin’...”

He started to get closer, and in the setting light of the day, you almost thought he might close the small gap, but then-

“Arthur!” Pearson’s shrill voice rang out loudly, and you flinched away from the moment, coming back to reality. “I need you over here!”

“Just give me a damn second!” He shouted back, but by the time he’d turned his attention to you again, you’d jumped away from him from the startle, and the moment was cut short. “I better get over there…”

“I’ll finish up for you,” you waved him off, moving to the barrel with his shaving kit. It was one of the last things that needed packing. 

“I’ll owe ya,” he nodded, tipping his hat forward before having to run off. 

He wouldn’t owe you a damn thing. 

-

The gang traveled north and west for several days, until coming to a clearing in a nice little town called El Paso. What could be so great about this town? Well, for starters, the law was mighty thin in this region, and there were roads nearby that had rich folk traveling as well. Dutch said it was like an outlaw’s paradise… 

He’d also mentioned there was a railway station in the next town over, something to look into. 

Arthur had done so right away, leaving the newly set up camp for a few days to scope out the area and put on a good cover. He was always the best man for the job, so you couldn’t complain about him being away, but there was of course a downside. Neither you nor Arthur pulled a stunt in the new camp like you had at the old one, and with him being gone, it gave the men a bit of leeway to behave as they did before. 

It wasn’t as sexual as it had been, but their bad attitudes towards you, and now that you’re seeing it, the other women as well, was atrocious. You’d been so blind to it all when you didn’t have to deal with it first hand, but now that you did, it was constant. 

Bill was the worst, as you knew him to be. He often didn’t even wait for Miss Grimshaw to collect the laundry anymore, just throwing dirty shirts and trousers in your direction and telling you he needed it cleaned the next day. 

“Not my job, not my problem,” you threw the articles of clothing at him every time, and every time he’d just scoff and go to the next woman, who would do as she was told because, even though you’d lucked out in skill, the others still had to earn their keep somehow. 

Lucking out in skill didn’t even seem to be helping you recently. Every job you suggested you could help with, Dutch turned you down. It had even caused a fight with Hosea, who wanted you to go in his place. 

Hosea had kept his distance with you when your secret was first revealed. Not to be cruel or unfair, but because you’d been embarrassed about the whole thing, and he could sense you didn’t want to open up to anyone right away. 

He did, however, become far more acquainted with you on the journey to El Paso. 

“I think you’re a mighty brave person, you know,” he’d struck up the conversation. 

“Me? Brave? I just shoot folk,” you shook your head, watching the horses in front of you both as they towed the wagon you sat on. “Ain’t nothin’ brave about that.”

“Not for shootin’ folk… I think you’re brave for bein’ on your own as long as you were. Especially a young woman.”

“Well, I appreciate you sayin’ so… but nobody knew I was a young woman, it sort of helped.”

He’d nodded sweetly, giving you a smile and a pat on the shoulder. The gentle and comforting talks between you became common from then on. 

Arthur had come back to the camp one morning, when everyone had woken, bringing a few different things. His first stop was Dutch, obviously, giving the intel over so a plan could be formed. The next job was going to be important. If it went down well, then this little town could be a great place to settle for the months to come, but if not, it would allow you all to know just how involved the law in this town actually was. You’d heard it wasn’t much. 

When Arthur came out of Dutch’s tent, he made a beeline to you… or more specifically, your tent. He actually didn’t even see you sitting across from your living quarters when he approached it, but you watched him with great curiosity on what he was doing. He’d been distant since leaving Agua Fria and arriving here, and you wondered if he was trying to rectify that. 

He left your tent just as quick as he went in, and met your eyes with a small nod and a soft smile. He’d been caught. He just went on his way after that, and didn’t even bother to greet you properly. 

You furrowed your brows, dropping the rifle you were cleaning before going inside your tent. He obviously didn’t take anything, you knew that. You didn’t keep anything of value except for your pistol, thirty-two notches now carved into the stock, but you always kept it on you...

When you looked at your cot, you found only one thing out of place. A pretty orange flower laying against your rolled up woolen blanket. Its bottom petal was slightly bent, and you wondered if he had kept it in his satchel on the ride back to camp. 

It was very sweet of him to think of you, and bring it back. You don’t think you’ve ever told him how much you like the color orange, but you reckon he just brought back the flower without even thinking about the color. 

You wanted to go and thank him, to talk with him for the first time in several days. You missed him whenever he was gone… you always hoped he missed you, too. He probably missed everyone, but he brought you an orange flower.

He was somehow already on the other side of camp, hassling Pearson about something nonsensical you’re sure, getting the man riled up over probably nothing. Pearson was a decent guy, but he was a little obnoxious, so teasing him was something you could definitely condone. You thought about just marching up and breaking up the scene, but then thought it might be better to instead make a lesser deal of it, just like he did. 

The men left the flower with no words to be said, so you’d thank him for it the same way… unless of course he broke the silence first. 

You tucked the flower behind your ear, letting the orange color sit nicely against the similar shade of your hair. You ran over to Arthur’s shaving barrel, close to the edge of your living area, and checked how it looked before walking nonchalantly towards Pearson’s kitchen. 

They were still grobbling over nothing, but when you came to the table, leaning forwards on it they both stopped. 

“What can I do ya for, miss?” Pearson asked, having become a much kinder, albeit a little bit more sarcastic person to you since your secret came out. 

“Just wondering what’s for dinner tonight…”

“How about that, Arthur, she wants to know what’s for dinner,” the man laughed, hands on his hips when he looked back to the younger counterpart. 

“I’m goin, I’m goin,” he held his hands up in mock surrender, clearly knowing he was the one responsible for hunting today. He’d just gotten back, but of course they made him do damn near everything. “You wanna come with me, Red?” 

“Me? Huntin’? I’ve never been, I’d probably scare ‘em off…” you resisted slightly, but knew that if he asked you a second time there would be no hesitation. 

“I’ll teach ya,” he offered, nodding his head towards the horses. “Not like they’d get far with your shootin’, anyway.”

You followed him immediately, picking up your skirt and rushing up behind him. Hunting with Arthur seemed like a mighty good idea at first, until you realized Dutch would probably be upset with you for not finishing the rifles… Tossing it over in your head for only a moment more, you neglected the prospect of the rifles. 

You could tell that Dutch was slowly trying to keep you out of the shooting jobs, even if you were the fastest gun in camp. Somehow learning you were not a man had tainted his idea of you… the one he’d spoken so highly of that first day to Arthur and Hosea. You supposed that going along with Arthur could only help you in the long run. 

You went to saddle your horse, but he stopped you, a gentle hand on your wrist, letting go as soon as he had your attention. “We don’t need ‘em both, just ride with me.”

You nodded, doing as you were told and trying not to make a big deal out of it. He’d helped you up first, hands placed carefully at your waist when he heaved you upwards. He climbed up in front of you, and suddenly you didn’t know where to put your hands. You’d never ridden behind a saddle before, you never needed to. 

He sensed your awkward reaches, even if he didn’t see them. He adjusted himself on the saddle before meeting your hands behind his back and pulling them around his sides to hold on. Your breath caught in your throat from how casually he’d done it, and how softly he touched you. 

“That’s a nice flower in your hair, by the way,” he muttered, not even looking back before grabbing the reins and leading the horse out of camp. 

-

The train job had been decided, but not without long and strenuous arguments about the roles to be played. 

The first draft of said plan excluded you, and you didn’t even have to wonder why. None of the other women were included, either. 

The second draft of the plan included both you and Abigail, but as mere pawns instead of actual roles. 

The final plan will go as follows:

Abigail is going to make it so that a certain man never boards the train with his colleague. Fair enough, she is definitely the woman for the job, as even having her in the near vicinity of a man is distraction enough. You will board the train with the colleague, and lead him to believe that you’re frightened of the journey ahead, getting him to drink with you and become more ‘comfortable.’ After that, it’s up to you to lure him to the back of the train, where Arthur, Bill, and Dutch will be waiting to interrogate this man, and find out where his private safe is. From there, Javier, who will be at the front of the train, will cause it to stop by sticking up the enginemen so you all can hop off at a designated point. 

From there you’ll go find the man’s safe, and rob him before he even has a chance to understand what’s happened to him. This is the only chance you will have at this job, since the man in question will be leaving El Paso once and for all.

It sounds like a solid plan, except for the fact that it was suggested you don’t even need a gun. 

“Of course she needs a gun, Dutch, she’s the fastest one here,” Hosea argued, a hand running over his face. 

“If we’re not planning on shooting, what makes you think she needs to bring it with her? It could blow our cover,” Dutch insisted, arms waving around for emphasis. He didn’t even make a good point, because as it were, you always kept a gun on you in the holster on your thigh, a little present from the man you gave you flowers. 

“You’re sending her to do the most dangerous part of the job, she needs a weapon.”

“If Abigail doesn’t need one, then she doesn’t need one, either,” Dutch reasoned, but that just made you chime in. 

“Abigail should have one, too. Everyone involved on a job should have protective assurance, just in case,” you shrugged, uncrossing your arms and leaning on the table. “I don’t even leave camp without my pistol.”

Dutch sighed, having dug himself into a deeper hole the more he kept on talking. He was smart, and he had a way with words, but he wasn’t going to be able to pull something like this and now he knew it. You’d been attached to that pistol for far longer than you have been to the camp. 

“Alright,” he nodded, continuing his explanation of what happens after they find the man’s personal safe. 

The man in the plan was named Albert Templeton, and he apparently was a very wealthy man, looking to make it big in the west by covering as many territories as he could with his canning factories. From what Dutch says, he seems to be a very selfish, very ambitious, and very rich man. 

You agree to this job, unknowing of the way it will unfold, but when you finally board that train, handing over your ticket with your hands shaking, you don’t know what to do, suddenly. 

Everything is going according to plan, except for the fact that you have absolutely no experience in trying to get a man drunk on purpose. 

“You look, a bit frightened, miss, are you alright?” Mr. Albert Templeton asked, right after you ‘accidentally’ bumped into him. 

“Yes… Well, no… I’ve never been on a train before,” you huffed out, your stressed tone coming across perfectly for the job. “You seem like you’ve been on many.”

“That I have, my dear,” he smiled eerily, moving an unwanted hand to your hip to try and guide you to the bench he was sitting at. “Come and sit with me, perhaps I can ease your mind.”

“How gracious of you,” you played along, sitting down beside him in the seat closest to the window. You didn’t like feeling trapped between him and the wall, but there was no difference. You still had a gun up your leg if he tried anything stupid. 

“So, where are you headed?” 

“Oh,” you had forgotten to think of a backstory, so as quickly as you could, you made one up. “I’m going to visit my aunt. She’s very Ill, otherwise she would have come to see me. She knows I don’t like trains.”

“How unfortunate for her,” he nodded, snaking his arm behind you on the back of the bench seat, caging you in further. “I’m sure she’ll be happy for your company.”

“I hope so, we’ve always been a great comfort to one another.”

The conversation kept on like this for a while, until you realized you were getting closer and closer to the point of which Dutch needed him in the back, but he hadn’t even gotten to the bar of the train car yet. 

“Would you have a drink with me, sir? I feel that maybe it would ease my nerves a bit.”

He laughed, a smile on his face when he leaned back to you. “I never drink on trains. But I would be much obliged to buy you one, yourself.”

You started to panic from there. 

You smiled at him and nodded, getting him to stand up… however, before you got him to the bar, you tried to carefully and quietly take your gun from its holster, pressing it against the rib of the man before you. He froze, knowing what was happening immediately. 

“Don’t make a sound. Just keep walking until I tell you to stop, you hear?” 

He nodded, making his way to the end of the car, going into the next one, and the next one after that until you could see three familiar faces sitting and waiting for you. 

“What the hell is this?” Dutch asked, his eyes narrowing in on the gun in your hand. 

“He wouldn’t drink, had to come up with something else.”

Arthur ran a hand over his face. This is why you usually rode with him. You did things the way he would, and not with the gentle and intelligent touch of a female outlaw like Abigail. For all intents and purposes, you'd always been a man, and this was breaking the cycle for you.

“Please don’t hurt me, I have nothing you could want.”

“The hell you don’t,” Dutch manhandled Albert onto a cargo box, pulling his own gun and holding it to strike fear into the man. “We’ve heard about the safe.”

“What safe?” He played dumb, and then Dutch immediately got angry. 

“You see? This is why he needed to be drunk!” Dutch took out his anger for the situation on you, even though the majority of this was not your fault. 

“Told ya, she should be back at camp fixing buttons and shit with the others,” Bill shook his head, and you were about to pull your gun in his direction if he said another word. 

“He wouldn’t drink, it ain’t her fault. She still got him to us… I say we make him talk,” Arthur stood up, clenching his fists and intimidating the man by coming closer. “S’nothing I ain’t used to.”

“Do what you can, Arthur… and you,” Dutch pointed in your direction, his brow still angry. “Go back up there and make sure no one saw you pull that gun.”

You nodded, taking yourself away from the scene in order to keep your composure. Arthur stood up for you, but you could tell that even he was upset about straying from the plan. This was a big job, with many key elements. One thing going wrong could ruin it all.

You made your way back, but saw Javier rushing towards you in the bar car, his gun out as he tried to reach you. 

“Brooks,” he started to shove you back to the car you came from, and just over his shoulder you could see the men trailing not too far behind, looking like train security. “We have to go, they know we’re here.”

You started rushing for the last car again, tripping over your skirts here and there. This dress was not practical, and was far too formal for a job like the one you were pulling. You much preferred the one Arthur bought you, but Dutch insisted it didn’t ‘sell the story’ that you were trying to tell. 

“Why in God’s name are you back here?” 

Dutch didn’t have a minute to grill you, because Javier took the floor first. 

“They know we’re here, there’s about five men heading this way, now. Maybe more.”

Arthur sighed heavily, pulling his fist back to his side. He’d only hit Mr Albert Temlpeton a few times, but it seemed the job was going south, and he hadn’t said anything anyway. 

“Arthur, turn him loose, the rest of you, find cover… we’re gonna have to shoot our way out.” 

Albert taking off through the doors only allowed the train guards to know exactly where you all were hiding. With guns blazing, the five of you were able to get past the small group that had headed for you… but once you got to the civilian travel cars, there were more, and they had bigger guns, too. You got scared to pull a gun in a heavily crowded train car, especially one that had innocent men, women, and children inside. You held your aim, like always, but got scared when the second round of guards came for you. 

“Drop your weapons!” The man at the front of them shouted. “Get on the ground, now!”

“Or maybe we could walk right through,” Dutch was the first to shoot, nailing the man right in the face. It was challenging to stay focused on the task at hand, when so many people were screaming. 

A child was crying, and most everyone was just trying to duck in their seats as the bullets flew. You were too scared to shoot at first, seeing the windows break around you, and the high speed of the train causing the winds to blow inside the car, making it hard to hear anything. 

You tried to hold your ground, knowing you were a better shot than anyone here… but there comes a time in everyone’s life, when the chaos prevents them from doing the one thing they know how to… this was that moment for you. Everything was caving in. You’d completely ruined this job, and it was going haywire because of you. You put your friends, no, family, in a very dangerous position, and most of all, you put innocent men, women, and children on the front lines to fend for themselves. All because you strayed from the plan. 

You saw it, but it was too late… the man had pulled his gun directly towards you, and you barely had any time to react this time. You still fired first, and still shot him dead first, but his bullet still left the barrel, skewing downwards because of your own shot, and hitting you directly by your left hip. 

You collapsed into a seat, trying to get yourself back up. You started bleeding profusely with every steep movement you made, and once the last Guard had been shot down, Arthur saw what happened to you. 

“Red!” he shouted, reaching for your body, making sure you’d not been hit badly. He was relieved to see it was a hip shot, but the amount of blood concerned him greatly. “Can you stand?” 

“I can try,” you groaned out, holstering your gun before using him as a lift. 

The others went to the front of the car, not wasting any time, but as soon as they looked through the broken window, they could see more men quickly approaching.

“Shit, we can’t stop the train.” 

“We’ll have to jump from the back of this car,” Javier responded to Dutch, who was pacing back and forth, glaring daggers at you out of the corner of his eyes. 

“Are we close enough to the exit point?” 

“It doesn’t matter, the ground is even now, we need to jump before the bridge.”

Arthur was freaking out, trying to hold pressure to your hip and hold you upright, while they were talking about jumping off a train. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so stressed out about a job before. 

You start to get light headed suddenly, and sway in his hold, trying to keep yourself balanced, though the train is making it hard to do that anyways. 

The sound becomes fuzzy, but you can here when Dutch calls everyone back to the door of the cabin car. 

“Stay with me,” Arthur tells you, watching your head tilt forward and your eyes get heavy. He knew you would pull through, because even though you were losing a decent amount of blood, you were still on your feet, moving along with him. You were a fighter, he’d known since he met you. Probably because you liked fighting him on damn near everything he said. 

He stood at the edge of the rail, the only thing separating the gang from jumping the transport was a little dingy chain that hooked onto the edge of the cabin car. 

“It’s up here!” Javier shouted, removing the chain and getting ready to disembark. 

“We gotta jump, Red,” he tried to keep you conscious, and you nodded, but you were clearly too weak to do this yourself right now. 

You felt yourself being tucked closer to Arthur, his arms coming around you. You finally closed your eyes, unsure if they would even stay open on their own anymore. Then there was a lift and a jump. You felt the air around you flying fast until the wind got knocked out of you, hitting the ground. Arthur took the harder fall, but to be fair, he hadn’t been shot. 

You opened your eyes in a rush of adrenaline, but once you caught your breath, it started to fade again. 

Everyone stood up, including you, but you were still wobbling back and forth. 

“Well,” Dutch looked to Bill and Javier, “We’re alive, but we got nothing.”

“S’all the girl’s fault,” Bill spat out some blood from his bleeding lip and shook his head. 

You didn’t even have the motivation to call him out right now. Didn’t have the energy to stand, either. Before Arthur could even steady you, your head started throbbing, and you hit the ground again, hand over your open wound.

-

The sounds were familiar when you came to. The usual ruckus of the camp, nothing strange or out of the ordinary… except for when you tried to sit up you were immediately pushed back down. You had a look around and saw that you were not in your tent, but lying in Arthur’s cot. His gentle push was what kept you laid back, and you saw the look on his face when he found out you were awake. 

“Don’t get up, I gotta fix you so ya don’t bleed out.”

You didn’t say anything, just obeyed his instruction. 

He’d gotten that stupid puffed sleeve nonsense off of you, leaving you in a corset and chemise and a small petticoat. Of which he was having a hard time figuring out how to untie. 

“I’ll get it,” you leaned up slightly, groaning when you did. You untied the petticoat, and worked off the corset while you were at it. Being in a chemise and bloomers in front of the camp wasn’t an irregular thing, as it was standard sleepwear when on the run. There were not many normalities when being an outlaw, but even still, you nearly felt embarrassed being in such a skimpy state of dress, especially when he wasn’t even done. 

He looked to you, his hands on the hem of your chemise, and you nodded to him in permission. 

He pulled it back, only enough to see where the blood was seeping through. His face twisted in disgust of the wound before shaking it off and getting to work. You laid back and waited, knowing that when all was said and done, you didn’t want to watch yourself get stitched up. You’d never had to do it to yourself before, and thank God for that. 

“It was stupid, what you did…” He brought up, cleaning the wound with some whiskey on a rag. 

“I know,” you winced, squeezing your eyes shut. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

He paused his wording, unsure of what else to say to you. He’s sure getting shot was a revelation for you that you weren’t invincible, but he also wanted you to know you weren’t blameless in this endeavor, either. 

“You got some innocent folk killed today.” 

When the first and second stitch went in, you were about ready to die. Him telling you this was not helping with the outstanding pain. 

“You know I never meant for it to happen…” you trailed, thinking about those poor children that you heard screaming in the train today. Such a sad and significant moment, and you’ll never forget it. You knew you’d been the one to cause them such distress, and some of those innocent folk were dead now.

“You sure about that?” He looked up at you from his task, his hands still gently working your skin back together. His actions and words confused you, because they were so opposite right now, and you didn’t know why. 

“What do you mean?” You met his gaze, a furrowed brow on your face.

“As I see it… you used to kill a lotta folk just for fun before I met you.”

Why is he even bringing this up? You’d told him why you did what you did, and how much of a toll it took on you… so why now, when all this has transpired, would he bring up the origins of your gunslinger facade?

“Arthur… I did what I had to. They would have killed me first. I ain’t never started a duel in my life, n��� you know that,” you reminded him, and he seemed to understand that it was wrong of him to say. He didn’t apologize, though… just kept on with what he felt he needed to say. 

“Look, all I’m sayin is… you had one job today, and it felt like you went off the road just to spite Dutch,” he argued, tying off the thread that pulled your skin closed. There was still cleaning to be done around the wound, and some sort of bandage would need to be applied, just in case of excess bleeding… but you sat up, stopping him from finishing anything. 

“Is that what he told you?”  you asked, referring to Dutch, of course.

“No, I was wonderin about it myself.”

“I wasn’t tryna get anybody hurt. Dutch used to put me riding with you, remember? I always did good. Now he wants me to do a job he thinks a woman is suited for, and I’m not so good anymore. Why do you think that is?” You asked, the annoyance written all over your face and dripping in your words. 

“You could’ve called it off. We could have just told Javier to come back and wait it out until the next station. We’ve bailed on jobs before when it got too dangerous…” he explained, his voice raising just slightly again to meet your level of ferocity. 

You took a second to breathe when he spoke. In all honesty, you’d never had to leave a job before, because when you started riding with them as Texas Red, the jobs always went through. No one told you about the bail out rule.

“I didn’t know that...”

“Well you should’ve at least told us he wouldn’t drink. Then you wouldn’t be to blame.” He didn’t quite meet you at the calm state, his anger still peeking, even when yours had come down. Saying what he just said was about to make matters so much worse, though.

“You think I’m to blame?”

“I think you played a massive part in this shit hole, yeah…” he huffed out, nodding his head and looking at you as if that should somehow get you to agree with him. 

“I don’t wanna hear this anymore,” you scoffed, standing to your feet and grabbing your belongings. You felt the sting of the stitches pulling, and tried to be mindful of them, but the way he was speaking to you, especially while you bled on his cot, was not something you could take. 

“Get back here, I ain’t finished cleanin’ you up.” He stood to his feet, trying to take steps after you, but even injured, you were stubborn and quick on your feet, pulling away from his reach.

“Abigail will help me.”

“You stubborn ass, why can’t you ever just listen when you’re wrong?” He shouted after you, which had you turning on your heel to shout back to his face. 

“Maybe because I’m not!”

Your face didn’t even read anger as much as in did pain. Not the physical kind. The ailments you faced with your body, you took like a champ… but this pain in your heart and mind was far more complicated, and when he saw how saddened you were by him, he didn’t know what to do… but of course, his anger was still rising, though yours turned to something else.

“Damnit, Red… you’re gonna find yourself in a nice deep hole someday, and you’ll have pushed away everyone that cares to help you out of it.”

“I can climb out of it myself, then.” You muttered, taking the steps back to him so he could really look you in the eye when you said this… “I used to think you cared about me… wanted to help me. But you’re just like him.”

“Like who?” he asks, jutting his chin out for a moment to seem tough. 

“You’re just like Dutch… just want me to play the part of the sweet little pet that lures the men into your jobs. I won’t do it… I can’t do it, clearly.”

“That ain’t what this is about,” He grabbed your wrist as you went to turn away again, and you pulled it loose. “You know I think you’re talented with that gun.”

“Then why don’t you ever fight for me to use it? Why is it that every time Dutch wants to make me into something I’m not, you stand by and watch it happen?” You weren’t meaning it as a hypothetical question, you really wanted an answer. Standing here, the camp noise having been drowned out by your argument, you watched as he searched for something to say, but he couldn’t find anything… nothing that could save him, at least. “That’s what I thought… just stay away from me, Arthur.”

“Red?” 

“Leave me alone!”

-

You took to the new town, the argument with Arthur the days prior still fresh on your mind. You knew you’d messed everything up, and it was most definitely your fault. You can only see it now, Dutch giving a big speech while you’re away to convince everyone that you shouldn’t be doing big jobs anymore. If only he’d just given you Javier’s place on the train, and had Abigail or Karen go after Albert Templeton, the gang might be a couple thousand bucks richer right now. 

You’d not just taken to the town as the girl they wanted you to be, because that girl didn’t exist. 

There was only the girl you grew up as, and Texas Red, no in-between. It wasn’t the sweet Miss Brooks going into the bustling saloon of El Paso, it was Texas Red, the unkillable. 

Maybe that’s where you’d gone all wrong. Wearing dresses, letting your hair start to grow, and even wiping the muck off your face whenever it gets there… you’d practically handed them a reason to treat you differently. 

All of this is your fault. The mistreatment, the exclusion, the job gone wrong, everything. 

It’s the heavy weight on your mind when you roll up to the bar, gun hanging heavy on your hip, the now thirty-three notches becoming a bigger and stronger presence every time you reach for it. 

“Whiskey, double,” you knocked on the wooden bar slab, a grimace on your face while waiting for the drink. You put the money down immediately, just as always. It became a habit as soon as interruptions became common anytime you went for a whiskey. 

You threw back the first drink then ordered another, throwing that one back, too. You got into a steady rhythm until there was a tap on your shoulder. 

You turned around, eyes becoming glazed, and hands becoming tightly fisted. Whoever was bothering you has no idea how much of a mood you’re in, but if they aren’t careful, they’re gonna end up dead. 

“Hey, I know you,” the man spoke. He looked to be about early forties, with silver lines in his dark hair, and smile lines over his cheeks. 

You gave him a look, up and down, before you decided he was mistaken. 

“No, you don’t.” You turned back to the bar, but he tapped your shoulder again, and the pistol at your side was feeling oh so heavy, waiting for your hand to pull it. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen you,” he laughed, a broad and excited smile. “You’re that Texas Red fellar from down in Agua Fria.”

“Just ‘cuz I got red hair, it don’t make me Texas Red,” you slurred, slightly, the alcohol buzzing your senses, but not your reflexes. Your hands are practically itching to shoot something, or someone, and this guy seems like the perfect target. 

“Nah, I know s’you,” he seemed a little drunk, too… but probably not drunk enough to walk away. “Seen your face when you shot that farmer.”

“Farmer?” You don’t even recall a farmer-

“Robert Sims… good man that fellow,” he droned on, seemingly hesitant to get to the point. “But you were the better shot.”

“M’sorry if he was a friend’a yours,” you gave condolences, hoping it would shoo him away, but as you remember, they never go away. “I didn’t wanna shoot ‘im.”

“Nah, he wanted to shoot you,” the man nodded, backing away only slightly before pulling his coat back, revealing a pistol of his own, right on his hip. No notches. “I wanna shoot you, too.”

You rolled your eyes and heaved a breath, looking to the man with a direct gaze. “You’re too drunk, you’ll die.”

He tapped the wooden counter, where your unfinished drink was sitting. “You’ve been drinkin’ too, been watchin’ ya.”

“So you think it’s fair?” You laughed, knowing you were nowhere near drunk enough to miss even a moving target, and be fast enough to hit him first. Maybe your fingers had been itchin’ for a reason, and this was it. 

Shooting this man may not bring you joy, but it would bring some security. You’re still as good as they say, despite Dutch and some of the others back at camp. You’re still Texas Red, and you’re still unkillable. Earning the respect of this town, just as you did in Agua Fria would bring you that feeling of confidence that you had slowly been losing in the gang. 

“I think I like my chances,” he quipped, earning some oohs from the crowd in the bar. By now you both held almost every ear within the reach of your voices, and the attention was deafening. 

They always say that… Why do they always say that?

“Alright,” you turned back to the bar, slamming your drink. “Let’s take it outside.”

The cheering, followed by the chants of your challenger’s name were louder than you expected. They don’t know you, but they will. 

You set your pistol, taking thirty paces away from your opposer. As soon as you turn around, there’s a silence amongst the whole town. You watch the man’s hands, the alcohol doing nothing to stop your trigger fingers from getting ready. You never draw first. It’s already an unfair fight, why make it worse?

“Need me to count?” the man says, and you shake your head, thinking you ought to just shoot him. He’s an obnoxious bastard, but he’s cocky and confident, you’ll give him that. 

“I ain’t one for countin’,” you yelled, and saw that he almost seemed a little nervous, now. He was always nervous, but now it was on his face. He was drunk, and this was stupid. You should just shoot him in the hand and let him walk away… but you don’t. 

You’ve been angry since what happened with Arthur, and you have to take it out somehow. If you can’t drink in peace without ass-hats like this bothering you, then you just have to take care of the ass-hats. 

Suddenly, you see his hand dip, gripping the stock and beginning to pull it. You reacted like always, your hand on autopilot while your brain was elsewhere. 

The man was dead in less than a second, and you came back to reality with a hammering soberness once the shot rang out.

Thirty-four....

It was the adrenaline, finally kicking in, only long enough to give you a moment of clarity… and looking up from the dead man, across the way by the general store, stood Arthur. He was probably getting supplies for the camp. 

He’d stopped to watch, a look of disappointment on his face. He doesn’t think himself a good man, but he’s never had to go from town to town, striking fear into those he meets. He tries to be kind when he can, earning the trust of people, unlike you. You haven’t even earned the trust of the people in camp. You’ve lied to all of them.

The crowd’s cheers and encouragement pull you out of your haze, and a man jumps in front of you, separating your vision of Arthur. You didn’t want to see his sad eyes, anyways. 

Everyone pulls you back inside the saloon, and the music strikes back up again… maybe this ain’t so bad after all.

-

Ten drinks is a lot for anyone, but especially for you, who already had multiple drinks upon first walking into the saloon. No one else dared challenge you, nor did they want to. The drunker you got, the crazier you seemed to act, your reserved gunslinger facade melted right away, and you turned into something of a wild man. The people were very entertained by your stories, the ones about Agua Fria, and then of course traveling with a gang to explore the west. You left names out, of course. Just because you were drunk, didn’t mean you were stupid. 

It was after you started stuttering over your feet that two working girls came up to you. They were some of the most gorgeous women you’d ever seen, busty around the chest, with low necklines, and stunning faces framed by their bouncy brushed out hair. 

“Can I help you ladies?” You tipped your hat to them, a smirk on your lips from the last joke you told to the crowd. 

“We were hopin’ we could help you,” The blonde one spoke, and with a smile she started to lean against your arm. “We’ll knock the price for two…”

“That’s very kind’a you, but I ain’t gettin’ a room,” you told them, the same excuse you always had used for women of the night in Agua Fria. 

“We’ll get the room, handsome… just pay the price of one for a night,” the brunette girl said, trying to hang off your shoulder, running her hands over it. You had to slide back into the bar to avoid getting her hands on your chest. If she did then you’d be in deep shit. 

“How about I make a trip back here some other time, then I’ll come n’ see you two?”

The blonde girl didn’t seem to be holding back, her lips trailing mighty close to your ear. You always knew how to play the part, but you never expected that women would be falling over you this way. It was both alarming and reassuring.  

“You sure? Why don’t we just take a ride out back?” 

You were getting woozy, the way they pulled at your arms while you were leaning against the bar was swirling your head. 

“There ya are, Red!” Came a familiar voice from the side of you. “Knew I’d find you in here…”

“Arthur?” Your vision was only slightly fuzzy, but you could always make out the clear silhouette of the most towering and strongly built man you knew. 

“Thanks for findin’ my brother, girls,” he played it off, reaching for your arm to pull you forward. You resisted him at first. “C’mon Red, let’s get you a nice place to sleep tonight.”

“No,” you pulled out of his grasp, unwilling to be manhandled by the same person who told you all those awful things just a few days ago. “I wanna stay with my new friends.”

“They ain’t your friends, kid. C’mon, let’s go.” He tugged you forwards, heaving you up to stand on your own two feet, before picking you up like a hay bale, letting you dangle under his arm as he made his way for the stairs. 

“Hey! Let me down!” You cried, squirming in his hold. 

He’d already paid for a room for the night, but getting you up there was hell. “Would you stop fightin’ me?”

“No, I wanna go back downstairs…” You trailed, getting stood upright again as he shoved you into a room and closed the door. 

“If you do that, Texas Red is as good as dead.”

He locked the door and made sure to put a chair under the knob. He didn’t necessarily know how the folk in this town behaved yet. You’d seen more of it than he had since arriving. 

 “Ain’t no man ever killed me,” You droned on, your words pouring out like that of a child, with little to no thought. 

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You mean them pretty girls that wanted to take me for a ride?” You laughed, letting him push you until you were sat on the bed. He knelt down and helped you take your boots off before tugging your hat from your head, throwing it in a chair. 

“S’not the kinda ride you were thinkin’,” he sighed, unsure of if you even knew how drunk you were. 

“You mean the other kinda ride?” Your obnoxious and bellaring voice could nearly pierce the walls when you were this inebriated. 

“Would you stop bein’ so damn loud? Whole place is gonna hear you n’ yer blabberin’...”

“You’re just jealous cuz the girls were fallin’ all over me instead’a you.”

He rolled his eyes with a scoff. Those girls were seein’ an easy target. They thought you were a man they could distract and rob, and maybe have a little fun with along the way. 

“I’m sure that’s it… lay down and shut up, will ya?” He shoved you back into the bed, and you groaned, your head hitting even the soft pillows was jarring, and you were sure you’d be feeling it tomorrow. 

You figured you better do as you were told, with this situation feeling less ideal the more sober you got. Each minute passed by made you realize just how much shit you would be in with him once you woke up tomorrow. Still, you were drunk enough to start raking over all the earlier thoughts that lead you here in the first place. 

“Arthur?” 

“What?” He laid back on the other side of the bed, crossing his arms and trying to rest… but of course you weren’t done. 

“Do you think I’d be better if I were a real man?” 

“No, I do not.” He huffed, his tone flat and his motionless figure unchanging.  

“Why?” You turned on your side to look at him, and boy, he looked handsome in this light. Barely illuminated through a window, but you could see the dark outline of his features.  

“You’re just fine as a woman,” he claimed, still unchanging in position. 

“But everyone hates me as one, they love when I’m him.” You liked being him, too. You were confident as Texas Red. Stronger, Faster. Braver…

“They don’t hate ya, they just have different ideas about ya… not that it’s right.” He thought that maybe you’d drop it from here, maybe pick it up another time when he was less tired, and you were more in your right mind. 

“What are your ideas?” 

“Huh?” He finally turned to face you, unsure of what you were even talking about. 

“About me… what are your ideas?”

“Well… I happen to think you’re real strong, and smart. I think you’ve got gifts that even I don’t understand, and you’re good at using ‘em… I also think you’re a caring person, even when you shouldn’t be.” He listed only the things that came to mind, but he knew there were so many more that he was only not remembering. 

“Those are all good things…” You supposed. 

“Guess so,” he nodded, watching your face contort, as if you were debating on telling him something. You were still stone cold drunk, even if there was a hint of normalcy to you at this point. You wouldn’t remember any of it tomorrow, of that he was sure. 

“I think I love you, Mister Morgan,” you let out, looking at him, but not waiting for a reaction. Even in your tarnished state, you’d just wanted him to know what you were feeling.

“No you don’t, s’just the whiskey,” he argued, his whole body tensing up in fear of how to respond to this drunken revelation. Drunk words are sober thoughts. Everyone knows that. 

“I do, I love ya more than anything,” you rambled on, completely entranced with the silhouette of him against the cool light of the moonlit windowsill. 

“If you really do, you gotta tell me when you’re sobered up,” he instructed. He wanted it to be true, hell, he’d thought it might have been true when first arriving here… but the train job seemed to put you both at square one again, and he was getting tired of it. There was so much he wanted to say to you, but he couldn’t risk being wrong about you feeling the same way. He’s lost too much love in this life to blindly pursue it again. He was tired of getting his heart stomped on.

“I’ll tell you… Swear it,” you crossed your heart, giving him a doe eyed smile. “Do you love me?” 

“I can’t tell you yet,” he shook his head, looking back up to the ceiling. 

“But I told you…”

“I know, sweet girl… just be patient, alright? I’m gonna get there, promise.” 

You nodded, turning on your own back and staring up at the ceiling, a single crack in the painted plaster going along the corner of it, keeping you distracted enough to stop thinking about Arthur and fall asleep next to him. 

-

Tags: @photo1030 @sheepdogchick @snoopysshark @strvberrydoll @yyiikes @phantasyy @puffyhairedhipster @scorpio-echo

[wish-i-were-heather]

A FOOL FOR YOU ⤵ GRAYSON HAWTHORNE X READER

ABOUT: 2187 words, no use of y/n (part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5)

STORY: drunk grayson accidentally pins you against the wall. he's A mess.

WARNINGS: none really, just grayson being a bad drunk flirt

A/N: THIS IS A REPOST OF MY OWN FIC!!! I'm posting it again because my account got deleted, but I still want to keep all my fics on my blog. Thanks to everyone for helping me get this all back.

Grayson Davenport Hawthorne didn’t drink.

He would never willingly put himself into a position where he wasn’t in the right state of mind. It could result in complete humiliation. One sip too many and he was at risk of turning into a stumbling, slurring mess that blurted whatever was on his mind. At least that’s how Jameson was when he was drunk, and Grayson did not want to find out if he was any different. Making a fool of himself was not something he was exactly fond of.

That was his brother’s job.

So, whenever the four brothers went out, he never drank. Nash would always insist on being the driver, but in the end he would have just a little too much and Grayson would take them home. He never minded; it was easier to deal with someone else’s lack of sobriety rather than his own.

Apparently, Xander had been trying to get ahold of Grayson for twenty minutes now. That’s what he told you when he called you.

“He’s not answering my texts,” Xander complained.

“Have you tried getting up and going to him?” You offered.

“Ew, no, that’s too far. The house is too big.”

You laughed. “But you expect him to walk over to you?”

“Or you walk over to him,” he said nonchalantly. “I don't mind. 

With an amused sigh, you stood up and began the not-so-long journey to Grayson’s wing. “Fine, fine, I’m going. What do I get for helping?”

“Hmm,” Xander mused. “A smile.”

“A smile, how generous.”

“From the one and only Xander Hawthorne, I know. Now tell Gray to get his ass over here.” 

~~

As you made your way up the stairs, you passed a hallway, down which you briefly glanced. You did a double take when you realized Xander was casually sprawled across a lounge sofa at the end of it, staring at something on his phone screen. You raised your eyebrow at him; he’d been closer to Grayson than you. 

He glanced up and noticed you making a face at him, and smiled. 

You rolled your eyes and kept walking. 

Xander was most definitely being dramatic. It took maybe three minutes at the very most to reach where you expected Grayson to be. You noticed the door to his room was open just a bit, a sliver of light coming from inside. But not enough for you to see him.

Since it was partially open, you knocked on the exposed door frame instead. You didn’t want to just barge in, but after thirty seconds he didn’t give you the go-ahead to enter. You knocked again, and still no response. 

“Grayson?” You called.

No response. 

Finally, you just walked in. “Grayson, Xander want-” You cut yourself off when you saw him.

Grayson Hawthorne was standing in the middle of the room, facing away from you and the door. But that wasn’t the problem, no. He was standing shirtless, his hands fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants, having just put them on. 

Sweatpants?

Who was this man and what did he do to Grayson?

“Ah, shit- sorry, sorry-” you said quickly, turning away and starting to leave. This was clearly not a good time. But you heard a stumbling sound from behind you and the sound of something breaking, and you had to turn back around to make sure he was okay.

Grayson was leaning one arm against his desk, staring at the ground where a vase had fallen. 

“Oops.” 

He kept staring at it, then stepping forward and almost placing his bare foot on the broken glass before apparently deciding that was a bad idea, and stepping away from the shards. 

He stumbled forward and barely steadied himself and finally glanced back at you. His eyes were unfocused, his normally meticulously done hair wet and completely disheveled. And he was still wearing only a pair of sweatpants.

Which he hadn’t managed to tie correctly, so they hung loosely on his hips, almost too low-

You tore your gaze away from his sweats and looked back up at his face. He kept a completely straight expression as the two of you made eye contact. When he spoke, however, he sounded the complete opposite.

“Hi.”

His voice cracked like a twelve year old’s.

Before you could respond, he continued. “Where are you going?”

You looked back down at the floor in front of you as he made another attempt to step closer.  “I- uh…” you felt awkward looking at him when he was half-naked.

But then again, whatever was wrong with him was probably more important. 

Plus, he didn’t seem to care.

“Xander wanted me to get you. He said he texted you but you didn’t respond,” you explained hastily, turning around to leave. “But you’re busy, so I guess just, uh, go find him later.”

“I was swimming,” he blurted. You froze and looked back again, staring at him, confused. What the hell had happened to him?

“Yeah, I- I can tell. Your hair’s wet.”

Grayson ran a hand through his hair as if just realizing that. “Oh, it is.”

You look at a tentative step forward. “Grayson, are you alright?”

“Mhm, yeah, I’m alright, I’m fine.” The words were muttered mindlessly, meaninglessly.

Grayson stepped closer to you again, staring down at you. And that’s when you caught it- the faint smell of alcohol on his breath. That might’ve explained his strange behavior, but the fact that he was drinking in the first place only raised more questions. 

“I- Grayson, are you drunk?”

“What?” He explained, his hand dramatically going up to his chest- his bare chest. “No, no, I don’t- I don’t get drunk. That’s what Jamie does, not me. I’m not drunk.”

There was a brief pause.

And then he hiccuped. 

“Maybe a little.”

You scoffed, a little. Yeah right. He was a mess. You wanted to ask him what had happened. why he’d been drinking, for how long- had he been swimming drunk? But you knew that he was too out of it to give you a proper answer. So instead you decided to help him, to spare at least what was left of his dignity. 

Xander would have to wait.

“Here, Grayson,” you began. “You need to lie down.”

“No I don’t, I can stand up perfectly good,” he insisted. But his balance was as poor as his grammar and he once again stumbled forward, this time reaching out to you to prevent his fall.

Grayson’s hands grabbed onto your shoulders and he was now a lot closer to you than you’d intended for him to be. He was leaning forward, but because of his height his face was just above your eye level. 

You tried to grab his wrists and back up, failing to fight the heat rising in your face. “Gray, you really need-”

As you stepped back, he followed, and suddenly your back hit the wall. Grayson was still standing awkwardly over you, using you to hold himself up, when his hands slipped off your shoulders. Onto the wall behind you.

Grayson Hawthorne was leaning against the wall with both hands, accidentally pinning you between them.

But he didn’t seem to notice.

He stared at you, tilting his head curiously. “Hi,” he said again.

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Or move, for that matter. 

Grayson stared down at you and you really had no choice but to look back up at him. His arms kept you essentially trapped against the wall, but you doubted he realized what he was doing. He was drunk. But the fact that he was blissfully unaware didn’t make your face any less red.

His gray eyes were surprisingly gentle as he looked at you. His hair was still messy, having settled in the position it landed in after he ran his fingers through it. When he spoke, his voice was slow. 

“I- I think-” he was interrupted by a hiccup. “That you…  you have a very nice face.”

That’s not the direction you thought he was going. “Thank you, but you should really-”

“Can I have it?”

You stared incredulously at him. “What?”

“I want it.”

“You can’t have my face, Grayson.”

He frowned. “Oh.”

Before you could respond, he promptly reached his arms around your neck, clingling loosely to you like a koala, and leaned down closer. His weight almost brought you down with him. “You need to let go,” you told him gently.

“But I like it here,” he whined. “It’s cozy.”

“You’re making a fool of yourself. You couldn’t help but chuckle, though you were still struggling to hold him up.

“But I’m a fool for you.”

You choked on your own spit and had to cough for a moment before responding.

“That was surprisingly poetic. Now get off me.”

With just a gentle push, Grayson stumbled back. But you had to grab his arm again to keep him from accidentally stepping on the broken vase that was still on the ground. 

Your mind was spinning; so much was happening all at one: Grayson Hawthorne was shirtless and drunk, stumbling all over the place, and you’d just managed to escape him pinning you against the wall. Intentional or not, it had your heart pounding.

Not necessarily in a bad way?

“Okay, okay,” you told him, still having to hold him up. “Let’s get you to bed.”

But Grayson protested. “No, no bed. I don’t wanna sleep.”

“You don’t have to sleep, but please, at least sit down.”

“Why?” He looked genuinely confused, and as annoying as he was, it was adorable.

“Because you’re a big clumsy mess right now, and you’re either going to hurt yourself or me.”

Grayson’s expression softened and he leaned down so that he was at your level. He reached his hand out and cupped your face. “I would never hurt you,” he whispered, sounding offended that you would even mention it. “Never.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his sincerity, even if he was drunk. “I know, Grayson, but you’re not exactly yourself right now.” You forced yourself to bring his hand back down to his side. 

He didn’t really have any choice after that because you began to drag him over to his bed, and his legs were too wobbly to resist. You managed to get him to sit down, and he let himself collapse backwards. You had to help move his legs all the way onto the bed.

As you did, Grayson looked up at you with a lopsided grin. “You’re nice,” he said bluntly. “I like you.”

“I like you too, Grayson,” you told him honestly. “Just… try to relax. Maybe put on a shirt?”

He looked down, as if just now realizing that his top half had been exposed the entire conversation. “Nah, it’s too hot.”

“Yeah, but you don’t see me walking around without a shirt,” you countered.

Grayson shrugged, his eyelids drooping. “You can take it off if you have to.”

You rolled your eyes, your cheeks growing impossibly warmer. As unlike himself as it was, you found drunk Grayson Hawthorne to be pretty endearing. But he would absolutely despise you if you told him that in the morning, so you decided to let him be. 

Thankfully, there was no more arguing. Now that he was laying down, Grayson was already half asleep, still smiling like an idiot. Before leaving, you gently brushed a strand of wet hair out of his face with your hand. 

~~

Xander feigned disappointment when you returned without his brother.

“You’re not Grayson.”

“No,” you chuckled. “I’m not.”

He looked at you impatiently, but you could tell whatever he needed Grayson for wasn’t that big of a deal, because he wasn’t upset. “Where is he?”

“Drunk.”

Xander completely froze as he registered your words. He stared at you with wide eyes like he was waiting for you to say you were just kidding. But you didn’t, of course, because it was the truth. “You’ve got to be faxing kidding me.”

“What?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he shook his head. “Max is rubbing off on me. But you’re trying to tell me Grayson is drunk?” 

“And now passed out in his bed,” you confirmed. “Go see for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Xander practically jumped up. “Oh, I most definitely will! Maybe I can wake him up and get him to say something stupid, and then I can-” He cut himself off and pulled out his phone. Before you could try to save Grayson’s dignity, he was off.

You watched as Xander ran off to tease Grayson, you found yourself smiling. Even if he was drunk, there was no denying the warmth that had spread through you when he’d cupped your face and whispered those slurred but genuine words.

Maybe, just maybe, there was more to Grayson Hawthorne than met the eye, more than his grumpy, serious facade. And maybe, just maybe, you liked what you were discovering. 

But that was a problem for future you and hungover Grayson. 

For now, you let the moment play over in your mind, wondering if he really meant what he said.

the writing above belongs to me. please do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own. © 2024 wish-i-were-heather

[yuff7e]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ‎ ✨ 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 ✨

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

hello, everyone!! before i start, i want to let you know that i have received all your requests, and they are currently being worked on. so, please don't worry, your requests will be posted soon. i hope you like this adorable idea i came up with!! :) ఌ︎

♬♪ -> lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı

✧.* 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎

tanjiro had just returned to the butterfly mansion from a mission. throughout his time away, he had written to you consistently. each letter was filled with sentiments like "how are you, [name]? i miss you so much." or "can’t wait to see you!" however, not once did he mention his own birthday, an occasion that you had remembered for him.

tanjiro, consumed by his duties as a demon slayer and his responsibilities towards nezuko, had seemingly forgotten about things like his own birthday. his mind being preoccupied with the challenges he faced, overlooking the importance of the occasion. however, this didn’t stop you from reminding him just how special this celebration really is!

as he walked through the grassy terrain, tanjiro took in the sight of the mansion before him, letting out a soft sigh as he entered the estate. before he could even glance around, you suddenly jumped out from behind a corner, accompanied by the hashiras, balloons soaring in the air, confetti poppers going off, and a large sign that read "happy birthday tanjiro!" his surprise was evident as he stumbled back, taken aback by the effort you had put into the celebration.

"wh—oh!! [name]?" tanjiro gasped, his eyes wide with awe as he gazed at everyone until a big smile slowly spread across his face. in a burst of emotion, he threw his arms out and pulled you into a tight, tired hug. you reciprocated, squeezing him with joy. "happy birthday, tanjiro! we all missed you so much!" you replied, smiling into his shoulder. tanjiro pulled back, meeting your gaze before turning to look at everyone again. "this is incredible, thank you guys so much..." mitsuri rushed over to join the hug, enveloping both you and tanjiro in her embrace.

"we’re so glad you're okay, tanjirooo!!~" mitsuri squealed, twirling both you and tanjiro around in her embrace before playfully dropping you both, leaving you a bit dizzy. "happy birthday!" she cheered, giving him a warm smile. the other hashiras also wished their birthday wishes to tanjiro before allowing him some time to freshen up. later, they went to opening presents, cutting the cake, and continuing the celebrations. it was undeniably one of the best birthdays tanjiro had ever experienced, and he wouldn't change a thing about it.

✧.* 𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐀

inosuke was tired, mad, and starving all at once, and all he wanted was to see you. he had been away on some dumb mission for way too long, and he was really missing you. he stuck to you like glue, following you around everywhere, and thinking about you non-stop while he was away. inosuke wouldn't call himself clingy, but he definitely craved your company after being apart for so long.

finally reaching the butterfly mansion, as soon as inosuke caught sight of the building, he sprinted straight towards it. bursting through the doors, he shouted out for you, "[name]!! [na—" but before he could finish, he was swiftly tackled to the ground, causing his boar mask to go flying off his head. jumping up in a fit of rage at the sudden attack, inosuke was about to retaliate until he realized it was you. and once he saw you, he screamed.

"[name]?! what the hell is this?! i get you're happy to see me, but calm down, you idiot!" inosuke exclaimed, grabbing your shirt in a mix of affection and frustration. before he could continue scolding you, sudden confetti poppers and balloons startled him, causing him to jump back, pulling you along. shielding you from the noise, inosuke was bewildered by the unexpected chaos. birthdays were a foreign concept to him; he only knew that he got older and would start to look different, but that was about it. so when you wished him a happy birthday and hugged him, his confusion was evident.

"it’s your birthday, you dummy!! you were born on this very day, how does that make you feel?" you asked, placing your hands on your hips and cocking your head to the side with a mischievous grin. inosuke stared at you in bewilderment, genuinely confused. "what’s a birpduy?" he asked, standing awkwardly. rolling your eyes at his confusion, you clarified, "no, silly, birthday. it’s the day you were born! you celebrate it?" suddenly, it clicked. you were celebrating him, the king of the mountains, lord inosuke himself! the realization dawned on him - there's a day dedicated to him?! how incredible!

"oh, right!! the day where you all bow down to me!! lord inosuke, the king of the mountains!! hahah!! i should've seen this coming. hmph!!" inosuke declared proudly, standing tall and confident. you and the hashiras behind you looked at him with wide eyes, taken aback by his response. while inosuke may not fully grasp the true meaning of birthdays, at least he seemed to get the hang of it..?

eventually, you all decided to open presents and cut the cake, and inosuke was loving it. he practically took charge, ordering everyone around and enthusiastically devouring the cake until you intervened, telling him to slow down. later that night, as you both lay on your shared futon (inosuke clearly unaware of personal space), he turned to you and asked, "did you do all of that for me today?" you looked at him and replied, "i did it because it's a day worth celebrating, but also... because i missed you." in response, inosuke gawked at you giddily, pulling you into a tight embrace before promptly falling asleep, snoring loudly in your face not even two seconds later.

✧.* 𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀

zenitsu woke up early in the morning, not ready for another day of awful training. when he noticed you were missing, he jumped up in alarm. tanjiro and Inosuke were gone too! where did everyone go?! in a panic, he dashed out of the room, sprinting down the hall and taking the corner too fast. suddenly, he crashed into someone, and the impact knocked him out cold...

after a few moments, he slowly blinked his eyes open, only to find you and the hashiras peering down at him. in your hands, a large sign caught his attention, while colorful balloons adorned the ceiling. as he fully regained consciousness, confetti poppers went off, balloons floated around the room, and festive chaos ensued. startled, he sat up abruptly, his heart racing with alarm, until he locked eyes with you and finally understood what was unfolding before him...!!

"wha—[name]?! is this for my birthday?!" zenitsu exclaimed excitedly, leaping into your arms. "ohhh myy [name]-chan~ you remembered my birthday!! i’m so happy!!" overcome with joy, he tightly embraced you, swaying you from side to side, not even pausing to let you catch your breath or offer birthday wishes. "zenitsu—happy—birthday..!!" you managed to squeeze out amidst the overwhelming squeeze of his embrace. finally releasing you, he pulled you in front of him, his face flushed with emotion. "this is the best gift ever!!" a shaky grin remained on his blushing face, his eyes shimmering with gratitude and happiness.

you chuckle at his silly reaction, playfully bonking him on the head with your fist as you grin at his happy face. the hashiras join in, making their way toward him to celebrate, opening presents, cutting cake, and enjoying the festivities. tanjiro and inosukes presence adds to the joy as you all hang out together, playing silly games like white elephant and charades. zenitsu’s birthday celebration definitely drained the energy out of everyone with all the fun and excitement.

as night fell and the quiet settled in, zenitsu took a moment to express his gratitude for the surprise, sharing with you how much it meant to him and how no one had ever done something like that for him before. he conveyed that he would treasure the memory forever, touched by the thoughtfulness and love shown to him on his special day.

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 : 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍

[fayesia]

Hii, can you write some Coriolanus Snow smut? Maybe where the reader get trapped woth coryo in dr. Gaul’s lab and they accidentally both breath sex pollen in?

Sex Pollen — Coriolanus x reader

a/n: hello everyone!! thank u so much for the insane amount of request i’ve been getting as a response to my recent post. i will be getting to them do not worry i apologise if i’m slower than some of you were expecting. like i’ve said i’m not used to this and got followers A LOT quicker than i expected but again thank you all, lots of love Faye xx 💋

warnings: nsfw 18+, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, coriolanus is a munch, fingering, cum play? (legit like a sentence at the end), lmk if i missed anything!

“woah what do you think this does?” you asked Coriolanus scanning the rack of vials containing numerous colours of liquid.

“i don’t know but let’s just get the medicine and leave”

“hmph fine” his response was much less daring but you simply assumed the pains he was getting medication for were getting to him.

You watched Coryo search through cupboards and shelves, meanwhile you found interest in a vial holding golden powder. Picking it up you observed the contents, the million specks of gold dust shined in the vial, it released a sweet smell, similar to maple syrup and honey.

“come look at this Coryo”

“give me a second. just gotta grab these…GOT IT!!”

his sudden outburst shocked you, the vial slipped from you hands smashing onto the ground, particles floated in the air, the room filling up with it as it wafted onto you and Coriolanus.

“what is this, what was in the vial?!”

“i don’t know okay you just scared me i’m sorry i don’t know why i dropped it”

Noticing your frenzied state he rushed over next to you.

“hey hey it’s ok, it was an accident, i shouldn’t have yelled at you, i apologise”

“we have to get out quickly” grabbing the medicine you’re both about to leave until Coriolanus stumbles, you rush to him grabbing him by the arm. An action supposedly to support him but rather resulting in you falling on top of him. Scrambling up the two of you rush out of Dr Gauls lab with barely any time to spare before her return. playfully winking at him you turn around mouthing the words “mission accomplished”. The triumph causing a rush of adrenaline you believed to be the reason behind the heating up of your body, little did you know the truth was far from that.

Back in your room the full effects of what seemed to be contained in that vial were effecting you, sharp pains assaulted your body while the heat only rose in your lower stomach.

Lying spread eagle face down on the bed you could barely move your head to hear the door to your room open. Coriolanus came rushing through standing by the side of your bed.

“what was in that vial. tell me you feel it too. tell me i’m not going crazy” you’re at a loss for words at this point simply nodding your head as a no in response to him questioning his sanity.

Your eyes finally focus enough to take notice of Coriolanus’ clothing — or rather lack of — his muscular physique is sculpted in a clean white wife beater and a pair of boxers. Your lower region only seems to get hotter and this sight, the first gush of liquid releasing from you, a sudden sensation shocking you as a small gasp left your mouth.

“what happened… oh” Coriolanus looks down as your thighs rub together, the embarrassment you should’ve felt seemed to have been taken over by the overwhelming need to be filled by something, a feral hunger only he could fill. A few seconds of silence pass by until you hear a loud sigh “fuck this” reaching forward Coriolanus lips capture your soft ones.

Both of your tongues fight for dominance, in the end Coriolanus wins unsurprisingly thanks to his ferocity, his hands resting on your hip slowly sliding up your shirt. Calloused hands squeeze your breast over your bra while your fingertips brush across his hard chest, no crevice of his abs left unexplored.

Clothes start piling up on the floor until Coriolanus is fully undressed staring down at you with you legs spread, a simple white lace underwear covering the one place he wants more than ever, a small oval stain of your need increasing his sense of urgency.

Pulling your hips closer to the edge, he kneels on the floor dragging your panties off and throwing them somewhere to join the rest of your clothes

“you’re so fucking beautiful”

you nervously smile down at him

“do you want this too?”

“please i need you, fucking hurts please do something, anything”

he breathily laughs at your response getting to work quicker than you expected, the feeling of his mouth sucking at your pussy while his tongue flicked back and forth over your clit leaves you a writhing, your loud moans echoing around the room. While his mouth is busy working on you, one of his hands is jerking off his cock, the tip bright pink and glistening from pre cum.

Coriolanus’ hands flip you over, pushing your back into a deep arch you’re more than compliant to, his hand forcing your cheek against the sheets while his other one positions his cock against your dripping hole. Sliding the length of his dick against your pussy he coats it with your arousal, which he uses as lube, slowly entering your pussy.

“Tell me when to keep going, god you’re just so wet for me”

Your pussy perfectly wraps around his cock and as you start getting used to his girth you began pushing back against him, more inches entering you, stretching you out more than your fingers ever could.

“Please keep going coryo hmm” you beckon him to began thrusting.

The noises of Coriolanus’ hips smacking against your ass from his hard thrust are the only things heard around the room, wet noises of your leaking pussy join soon, the volume of your moans increasing even more once two of his fingers rub at your clit.

You whine when Coriolanus pulls out, the empty feeling causing the pain from earlier to return.

“wanna look at your face when you come” you hear him whisper before he flips you over.

He roughly pushes your thighs against your shoulders, the action squishing your breast together, as he quickly slides himself back into you. His actions almost a whole one eighty compared to how sweet and gentle he was at first. However you’re not going to complain right now, staring into his blue eyes, the pair covered in a glossy shine with how dazed he is from pleasure, he moves his cock in and out at a pace that has you ready to come.

“Not yet baby”

“Hngh I’m gonna come please let me come”

“Wait for me, you’re not coming until I do, together”

You’re basically clinging onto the edge of your climax, the warm and wet walls of your pussy tighten around him cock, releasing more animalistic noises from his throat. He almost growls out the word ‘come’ and of course you’re more than happy to do exactly that. His hips stutter and with one more thrust Coriolanus’ cum shoots deep into your pussy, the feeling of your walls tightening, milk more and more cum out of him.

As he slowly pulls out, a mixture of his thick load and your cum pours out from your hole, the two of you watching it leak it. Unexpectedly Coriolanus drags his middle and ring finger through the mess, collecting a decent amount he pushes it back into your pussy, twitching a little after having such a stimulating orgasm.

Coriolanus kisses your forehead, his arms wrapping around your curdled body pulling you close, pressing yourself against him. The two of you falling into a peaceful rest.

~unedited~

[sssammich]

fic: come what may

a/n: this is a continuation of THIS post which was inspired by the fanart. please give that fanart some love if you haven't, it was so very compelling to me and that's why we're here.

anyway read the first part and then come back to this lol

---

Lena retreated to the single stall washroom after graciously thanking everyone around her for their applause and cheering. In the quiet of the small space, she was able to think about the last five minutes of her life. 

It had been a week since she had spoken last with the caped hero, the word ‘villain’ rang in Lena’s ears still to this day. 

It had stung her, lanced through her more like. But in this world, she had no choice but to keep moving forward if only to survive. She knew that reintegrating Lex back into her life was a risk, but what was the alternative? To let back in the one person she’d trusted with so much of herself only to be the same one who broke Lena irreparably? It figured that they would be one in the same. Supergirl had a habit of being duplicitous, after all. 

Despite all of these thoughts, the dance had been more than she anticipated. For a brief moment in time, her world narrowed to the size of the dance floor when she and her former best friend twirled and glided across the space, held close to one another, swaying to the beat of the song.

Until Supergirl called out to her, the tenor of her voice bringing up a world long gone, the time together but a distant memory. Only to then ask her, “what’s your plan here, Lena?” 

The illusion broke through and shattered all around them, and her eyes darkened, her heart hardened. 

“You will never trust me,” she announced finally when she looked at Kara’s beautiful face, her equally beautiful blue eyes. Now, an enemy. “I can see it in your eyes.” 

She pulled away and turned, not sure she could look at that face again, anymore. Still, she would admit that it was enough consolation to see Supergirl on edge, to put her on her red-booted back foot.

She recalled turning her head slightly and caught enough of Supergirl's departure from the middle of the dance floor and into the evening sky. It gave her some satisfaction, but not nearly enough to placate the ache in her chest. 

Lena stared at her reflection; her makeup remained impeccably applied, impeccably in place despite the exertion of their dancing. The heat of Kara’s hands lingered all over her body, the warmth of those hands pressed into her, holding her in the illusion of safety as the song notes progressed. Her former best friend was clumsy in her movements, at least at first. It would have delighted Lena plenty to see Supergirl stumble her way through her movements. Yet, she held her own and led the two of them throughout the dance floor in an acceptable tango. On any other day, any other moment, she would have been charmed by it, let herself be led around so long as they stayed in each other's arms.

But those moments were no longer accessible to them. 

She returned to her guests and maneuvered through the compliments and conversations, but every now and again, she glanced up into the open sky. Just in case.

—

In the end, Lex was defeated and rid of once and for all. The details of it were fuzzy to her now, but none of it mattered. Simply that he was gone from her life for good, that he would no longer be a terror to anyone and everyone, to those she loved. 

Once again, however, she was left to pick up what remained of his ruinous rampage, if only to be surrounded by something beyond her isolation. 

It was just a few scant weeks ago that she’d reached a truce with Kara and her Superfriends (nevermind that she’d once thought of them as her own friends, as well). Now here she stood weeks later: alone. 

Lena had run out of options or excuses and finally sought out help from Kara without hope or expectation for true reconciliation or forgiveness, from either of them. They’d drawn their lines from one another so long ago, she’d considered them carved in stone. 

Now she stood on her empty balcony overlooking the city just after the sun had set and the sky was now engulfed in dark blue. 

Without a brother, a mother, a father. An orphan, twice over. It seemed that she was destined to live in solitude. They say no man was an island, yet perhaps Luthors were. 

She gazed at the last remnants of the setting sun across the horizon, not giving away that she heard the sound of a cape billowing at the far end of the balcony. She made no move to say or do anything, simply took a sip of the amber liquid in her glass. If Supergirl had anything to say, then Lena was not going to stop her. 

“How are you?” Kara finally said, after minutes trickled past them. 

She scoffed, unable to help herself. She glanced over her shoulder and watched as Kara hovered outside of the balcony. She simply took another sip of her drink. 

Kara, never one to leave well enough alone, moved so that her feet touched the ground and she stood somewhere behind her. Lena closed her eyes and took a swig of all of her remaining drink. 

“You’re trespassing.” 

“I know.” 

“I can have you arrested.” 

“That’s fine.” 

“What do you want from me?” 

“A dance.” 

Lena quickly turned around, Kara standing only a few feet away, her arm outstretched. She glanced up and met blue eyes, an ocean of patience. 

Resigned, Lena unfurled the fist by her side and placed it in the offered hand. She took a step forward until their bodies were almost flush with one another, Kara’s other hand placed on the small of her back. An easy fit between them. A thought that Lena shoved into a box for rumination and reflection later on. 

“There’s no music,” she commented needlessly even as she put her free hand on Kara’s shoulder, her nerves manifesting in lightly scratching the fabric of the supersuit under her fingertips. 

“There’s always music.” Just then, Kara pulled her phone from a hidden compartment behind her and pressed the screen until soft music started playing. It was the final duet in Moulin Rouge between the two leads, where she and Kara shed a tear or two when they watched it in the past—a distant lifetime ago. They were now extraordinarily different people from those versions of themselves. 

“This musical was a tragedy.” 

The superhero shrugged, her eyes focused past Lena’s head. “I know.” 

“Are you trying to tell me something?” 

Kara eventually returned her attention until their eyes met and Lena waited. She watched as Kara took a deep breath and offered Lena a cautious smile, resignation plastered on her own face. “I’m trying to tell you a lot of somethings.”

She studied Kara’s face, wanted to glean any kind of information from her features alone, but Kara betrayed nothing. “Start with one.” 

“I’ve been practicing.” When she furrowed her brows in confusion, Kara clarified by twirling Lena out of her embrace only to pull her back into her orbit once again. This time without bumbling through any of the movements nor without a stutter in her steps.  

The move surprised Lena enough to take her breath away, her senses suddenly alight as she considered what any of it meant. When? How? Why?

“Tell me another,” she whispered, her hands grasping tighter onto Kara just as the song started to swell. 

“I want to start over.” 

Lena stopped in her tracks so Kara did, too. Distantly, Lena observed that neither released their holds of one another.

“Why? We’ll only hurt each other.” 

“Maybe. Probably,” Kara supplied before tugging Lena back closer to her and swayed side to side to encourage Lena to do the same. “But life without you in it is infinitely worse, I think. So if it’s all the same to you, I’ll take my chances.” 

Lena’s heart felt like it was getting catapulted across time and space. And maybe it was actually getting catapulted along with every sway she took with Kara. Still, she couldn’t help but push. “Even with a villain?” 

Kara grimaced slightly before flashing an apologetic smile. “Sure, Lena. Even with a villain.” 

“I was one, you know,” she offered, watching for Kara’s response. She was complicit, had gotten her own hands dirty. She owned up to that. 

“I know.” But Kara simply shrugged and brought them closer. “Believe it or not, I’ve been one, too. You’re not exactly very special in that department, Lena.” 

A small laugh that bubbled out of her caught her off guard, and Kara smiled at her before spinning her away and back together again until Lena hid her face against the crook of Kara’s neck until the song finally ended. 

They parted from each other, Kara taking a step back until she was a few feet away, her hands clasped in front of her. 

“Thanks for the dance,” Kara said. 

“You’ve gotten better.” 

“I appreciate that. It means the practice has been paying off.” As if nodding to herself, Kara gave her a smile and began to turn so as to take off into the night sky, but Lena stopped her. 

“Tell me one more,” she urged, realizing she didn’t want their interaction to end quite yet. 

Kara then looked over her shoulder. “Can I come back tomorrow?” 

“If you’d like.” 

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” 

“I’ll hold you to it.” 

Kara’s body twisted so she was looking at Lena more fully. “Goodnight, Lena.” 

“Goodnight, Kara.” 

Lena watched as she took off into the sky, disappearing into the night. She’d stayed out there for a little while longer, the heat of her drink coursing through her veins while the moment between them warmed her against the cool breeze that passed through. 

Nothing had yet been fixed, and there was a long road ahead of them. But something in her caged heart had loosened, allowing her to breathe again. That was a start.

[chasedeys]

i want you to yap about jj/koc!!!!! tell me what your fav headcanons are about them <3

THE WAYYYYYYY I HAVE YET TO ANSWER YOUR ASK ON THAT JOE HAREM AKDHSKSJSKSKSK sort of its not even really harem bc like. is it. legit. its in my drafts. waiting for me to yap. its so good. i have shit to say abt it. i literally want to branch abt ja’marr and tee for the wr room too. and treymarr LMAOOOO and chase for the rb room even if like. the rb room is kind of sad and i wanted to focus more on his poly insanity of the 23 rookies dragging big dick mike into it BUT let me answer this one first 😭 yeah…...

ANYWAYS. headcanons. um. i don't have much. FFJFJFJ let me direct you to my prev ask um....

god i don't even know much about their lore to actually like. expand my shit about them LMAO like. if i base shit from this one post i'd say like. ko being a whole completely new thing for justin. justin's previous coaches being?? not so well???? or like. not as invested or as into him or as developing as ko is even if he clearly has broken vikings records since he got into the vikings like christttt this man is talented and ko clearly knows how to use him.

as i said in that previous askkk ko being the one to be able to like. break apart justins numerous layers of 1) pr perfect (CARMENS ASK ON THIS IS INSANE BTW. WILL GET TO THAT AT SOME POINT ARGH) then 2) lashing out tiger claws etc etc then finally 3) the justin jefferson that gets to break down and stumble and fall and titter uncertainly and very much never to be seen on camera but!! ko gets for some fucking reason and that shit terrifies the ever living shit out of justin who the fuckkk does this guy think he is waltzing into his team with his warm smile and steady hands and certain gait and kind words and clever playbook and encouragement and acceptance. skittering away uncertainly at first when ko shows him this but come on now this is justin jefferson when has he ever run away from anything ever next thing you know he's marching right back to ko and re-introducing himself and boom. charmed and being charming and i don't think he's ever going to let go of ko ever and i don't think ko's ever letting go of him ever lmao.

as ive said ko is like. incredibly soft, such a players coach, that time where he told sam to step away for a sec just to say he was proud of him?? and that clip of him to the side staring at his team hauling sam up oh my godddd. and also again based on this one post ive seen ages ago and ingrained to my fucking head about them its like. it's so fucking FUNNYYYYYY to me. how koc has legitimately mentioned justin has a great smile 😭 i have no idea if he's mentioned it some other times before probably tbfh but. that's so sweet 😭 justin DOES have a pretty smile……the prettiest thing about him dare i say……thank you coach kevin o'connell for mentioning this in actual to everyone in an official article for real lmao SORRY got distracted but. he's so sweet. so kind with his words. and so soft. and just soooo??? so easy to fall for so it took justin like. days. fucking DAYS. for him to just. starts wobbling. eyes to starts skittering away when ko tries catching his gaze. a whole week of just adjusting to new feelings before he starts to snap his spine back into himself because he's justin fucking jefferson and boom he's flirting right back (not that like. ko flirts intentionally at times 😭 they're both just. such natural unintentional flirts at times its a travesty to their team theyve learned to just. live with it. their social media team delights and despair it.).

and i think about ko is that he's like. incredibly charmed by justin. so fucking amazed by his talent. who the fuckkkk works like him. who breaks records like justin jefferson. unable to stop himself from just. gaping. eyes wide everytime he sees justin catch a ball. eyes following his figure running across the field. ears ringing knowing he has to navigate and call a play call a name call something but fuck he's just focused on how justin's smiling how he's swinging around his hips laughing with jordan and practically gleaming underneath the stadium lights. pretty. fucking gone for him. also. great smile. stilllll so stuck on him mentioning justin's smile alkfkasf soooo funny god crying at this.

also: comparing yet again ja'marr and justin. competency kink 😔 justin being soooo horny for ko's offensive schemes and all his coaching abilities and hey he has thrown with justin right so like. well.

the flirting. ive talked a bit here mostly as comparison to joemarr's preschool ass shy unable-to-meet-eyes flirting. they are soooo. fucking. Shameless. how the fuck. no really but they are upfront about it they look at each other straight in the eyes and giggle at each other and tilt their chins provocatively and just say shit. whatever the fucking words are positively DOUSED with flirty energy. they can be talking about the fucking weather, routes and plays, or even taking the most humongous most disgusting most gut-wrenching shit of their lives ever and it would still sound like they're flirting about ferris wheel dates and candle-lit dinner and fucking on a bed of roses. sorry but 😭. if you listen to any bit of mic'ed up moments between them, or interviewed moments between them, it's genuinely crazy it's like. they can't help themselves. they're natural flirts?? around other people but when they meet each other they up the fucking ante to about 10000000000 billion watt so. either you get used to it or you just. skedaddle out of sheer uncomfortableness. dare i say that their team has gotten so fucking used to it 😭 dare i say that that shit is contagious and now a whole lot of them especially the influenceable rookies are following their footsteps. vikings.....oh boy.......every time i see practice vids its crazy btw there's always a moment of ko just having to pop by and just like nudge at justin and justin just like blooms under his gaze its so cute they're so cute 😭

there's also this LMAOOOOO no but really. how many times do you think has kevin o'connell stumbled in his words and like. physically. because justin jamal jefferson just could not fucking help himselffffff oh my god. what is the fucking matter with him 😭😭 who STARES like that at their coaches.....justin motherfucking jefferson that's who. ko yapping gesturing with his cup like justin isn’t giving him ecchi fuck me eyes you’re definitely stronger than me 😔✊ but really does justin do this shit on purpose or. or...

also ehe i know you asked for hcs but like. would u like more of um. i did a little bit of fic idea of them fake dating once here and am still so enamored by it so:

koc/jj - constantly getting the vibes of ‘he fuckeddd that old mannn’ when i see gifs of those two with jj just being 🥰😘💞🎀💓🌸💖💝🩰🌷 aughguhgh outrageous levels of besotted he’s WORKING he’s GETTING HIS MAN he’s FLIRTING hes using EVERY weapon in his disposal (competency, beauty, babygirlism, etc) you have to respect that shit. stupid fic idea that won’t leave my head is of them getting into a scandal caught by paparazzi romantic ass dinner holding hands and ending the night clubbing close but they really aren’t anything at that time but ahaha you get where I’m going with this right FAKE DATING!!! except this isn’t really feasible bc lets be real a coach dating his player = fired. period. or the player traded to a different team which. WHICH. but theyre both like invaluable to the vikings so they just go ok fake dating have at it (that makes zero sense but whatever). anyway super fun idea can’t lie justin upping his cutesy lovey schtick and koc quietly dying from it. joe legit reaches out like 'ur not being coerced or anything right' while jamarrs like 'get that silver dickkkk' (hes like 39 but whatever) etc etc.

the joemarr double date 😭 can you imagineeeee joe and ja'marr squinting suspiciously at ko smiling serenely at them and justin squinting suspiciously back at the two im crying as i picture this

ko begins just. charming the ever living shit out of them. and ja'marr is somehow the one who can't fucking unbend because. he was all for it at first?? like oh!! justinnn??? coachfucker justin jefferson lmaaoooooo???? no really he was brutal about it justin has to briefly block his number because oh my god 'marr shut the fuck uppppp but then. he actually sees justin with ko and boom. every single protective bone in his body is bricking the fuck uppppp and now justin has to call off attack guard dog ja'marr chase from ripping ko to shreds 😭 joe, who has like. the slightest idea that this might happen is just. going along for the ride at this point, hooking his ankle around ja'marr's under the table to help calm him the fuck down and keep him from lunging across the table and making sure to keep stealing the prawns off ja'marr's plate so ja'marr gets distracted and pissy at him instead of like. interrogating ko on his ancestry and credit scores and history of animal abuse who knows at this point where ja'marr's mind has gone to. justin straight up tries to stand up to strangle ja'marr one time and ko just casually brings up an arm to tug him into his side and justin settles huffily into him and. joemarr gets sharp. their eyes sharpen. zero in on the minuscule space between the two. ja'marr gets quiet. drinks his wine and tucks closer to joe too like. damn okay then fuck. joe chuckles quietly and pinches at his thigh and tells him to let up for fucks sakeeee and the dinner goes smoother finally and ja'marr finallyyyyy laughs at kos jokes 😭👍 needles at him about who's the better receiver just to be annoying and test him out a little if he answers ja'marr he isn't appreciating justin the fuck if he answers justin he doesn't know shit and if he answers neither he’s way too fucking evasive and that’s not good at all the fuck but joe gracefully saves the day by just moving the entire conversation around (throwing peas subtly at justin so he'd shut the fuck up too god why are nearly all his wide receivers like this)

(after the dinner waving goodbye to joemarr driving away in an uber ko bends down to press his forehead to the back of justin's neck and just. heaves out a sigh so heavy like. oh my god. why the fuck is ja'marr chase so intimidating. and justin's laughing at him making his body shake with him saying yeah isn't he the sweetest with the worlds just. fondest fucking voice and kos hugging him from behind feeling so pleased he gets to be accepted by the two boys justin has anchored himself so thoroughly during college and refused to let go to this day auguhughga LSU TRIO MY BELOVEDDDDD 😭)

ko and joe bondingggg aaaaaaa about like. qb stuff 😭 am so shit at football stuff i cannot even expand on this shit LMAOO but like. strategies. plays. cadences. the chiefs dynasty and nfl rules maybe lmao. the state of the nfl commissioners and schedule making and shit rules and penalties and how they can make them better maybe who knows certainly not me 😇 and jjmarr egging them on to say the more foulest shit they usually keep under pr perfect wrap and justin gleefully letting go of his perfect pr image to just shit talkkkk with ja'marr god that's cute the idea he can be freeee with ja'marrrr aaaa

fighting over the check lmao ko pays btw which is. who gets paid more players or coaches. players? i feel like its players. but ko gets sneaky and somehow pays the entire thing. joe, who usually is the sneakiest and pays for shit like this is very impressed. justin behind is like. glittering in smugness. ja'marr is also quietly impressed ofc.

okay so this is more of like. the joemarr double date over the fake dating aspect 😭 i literally have 0 ideas for the fake dating damn youuuu brainnnn workkkkkkkk argrhrgrhrhhrhh

okay. bye....im out 😭

[dippindaz]

Snowed In (Steve Harrington x reader)

Hi! I know I haven't been posting, but my love was reignited thanks to my creative writing class :,) I also know most of my following was built thanks to slashers/dbd, but honestly I haven't been into either things enough to write fanfic. This is also unedited and was rewritten and copy/pasted like a hundred time for formatting, so please forgive me if something doesn't flow well, I just wanted to finally post it. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy!

(Lazy) NSFW warning after the cut!

The windshield wipers struggled against the snow, streaking wet arcs across the glass. The chatter from the backseat had faded about an hour ago, everyone too cold and too tired to keep up the cheerful banter that had filled the start of the trip. You glanced sideways at Steve Harrington, who was gripping the wheel a little too tightly, his jaw set.

“You’re gonna break the steering wheel if you keep holding it like that,” you muttered.

Steve shot you a sideways glance, his hazel eyes narrowing slightly. “Thanks for the tip, co-pilot.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the window, watching as the pines zipped by in dark, snow-dusted blurs. This trip had been doomed from the start. The idea of a cozy ski weekend had sounded nice in theory—Nancy’s bright smile as she pitched the idea at lunch, Jonathan chiming in about splitting gas money. But the moment you found out Steve was coming; you knew it wouldn’t be as easy as she made it sound.

It wasn’t that you hated him. Not exactly. You just… didn’t get along. Too much history, too many biting remarks exchanged over the years. And now, with Nancy and Steve both insisting their breakup was ancient history, you were supposed to act like none of it mattered.

You had told Nancy you didn’t want to go if Steve was. Her solution? Essentially force you and Steve to drive to the cabin together, without any mediator so that you’ll “resolve” your problems. So far, not so good. It had been tense silence with the radio in the background and random sassy remarks from both of you.

“Car’s low on gas,” Steve said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Didn’t you fill it before we left?”

His jaw tightened further. “I did. Didn’t plan on driving through a snowstorm.”

You wanted to say something sarcastic—something biting—but the knot of tension in his voice gave you pause. Instead, you nodded toward the dark road ahead. “There’s gotta be a station somewhere close. Just keep an eye out.”

“Gee, thanks. Didn’t think of that.”

You sighed and leaned back in your seat. It wasn’t worth arguing.

The gas station turned out to be a small, poorly lit shack on the side of the road. By the time Steve had filled the tank, the snow was coming down in thick, heavy flakes. The kind that made the edges of the world blur, like a dream.

“We should’ve stayed with the group,” you said, pulling your coat tighter around you as Steve climbed back into the driver’s seat.

“We’re fine,” he snapped, brushing snow off his jacket. “It’s just a little snow.”

A loud crunch interrupted him as the tires spun uselessly in the deepening snow.

“Nice going, Harrington.”

“Don’t start,” he growled, leaning forward to grip the wheel again. He tried once more, but the car didn’t budge. Snow was piling up fast now, turning the road into an unbroken stretch of white.

After a few more attempts, Steve let out a frustrated sigh and sat back, running a hand through his hair. “We’re not getting out of here tonight.”

“No kidding.”

The cabin wasn’t far—a ten-minute hike back down the road—but the snow made every step feel like wading through quicksand. By the time you and Steve stumbled through the door, your fingers were numb, and your jeans were soaked up to the knees.

“Cozy,” you muttered, taking in the single-room layout: a couch, a kitchenette, and a fireplace that hadn’t seen use in years.

“Better than freezing to death in the car,” Steve replied, already shrugging out of his jacket.

You didn’t respond, too busy trying to get the feeling back in your hands. A sudden, sharp clattering made you jump, and you turned to see Steve swearing under his breath as he wrestled with a box of firewood.

“Do you even know how to start a fire?” you asked.

“Do you?”

You crossed your arms and leaned against the counter. “Go ahead. Impress me.”

For once, Steve didn’t take the bait. He simply knelt in front of the fireplace, stacking logs with surprising care. The flickering light from the match cast soft shadows across his face, and you found yourself watching him longer than you meant to.

The fire roared to life after a few minutes, the warmth seeping into your frozen limbs. You settled onto the couch, pulling a blanket around your shoulders.

Steve stayed by the fire, staring into the flames like they held the answers to all of life’s problems.

“You’re quiet,” He said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m tired of arguing.”

You snorted. “You’re the one who always starts it.”

“Me?” He turned, his expression incredulous. “You’ve been throwing jabs at me since we left Hawkins.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so easy to irritate, I wouldn’t bother.”

Steve shook his head, muttering something you couldn’t hear.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

You glared at him but didn’t press further. The fire crackled softly between you, filling the silence.

Hours passed. The snowstorm didn’t let up, and the cabin seemed smaller with each passing minute. You and Steve had fallen into a truce of sorts, each keeping to your corner of the room.

It wasn’t until the fire started to die down that Steve spoke again.

“You cold?”

You looked up, surprised. “What?”

He gestured to the dwindling fire. “You want me to add more wood?”

“I’m fine,” you said, even though the chill was starting to creep back in.

Steve rolled his eyes and grabbed another log anyway. “You’re stubborn, you know that?”

“And you’re bossy.”

He glanced at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Guess we’re even, then.”

For the first time all night, you smiled back.

The fire flared back to life, and with it, the room seemed to breathe a little easier. You shifted under the blanket, the warmth slowly easing the tension in your shoulders. Steve stayed by the fire, absently poking at the logs with a poker he’d found, his hair mussed from running his hands through it.

“Do you think they’re okay?” you asked after a while, your voice softer than before.

Steve glanced over his shoulder. “Nancy? Jonathan? I’m sure they’re nice and cozy with heaters right now.” He said, his tone an over-exaggerated version of jealousy.

At first you nodded, then your eyebrows furrowed. “With heaters?” You questioned. “Shouldn’t they have been on their way here like we were?”

Steve turned his head to look at you properly, his face just as confused as yours. “No? Nancy said they weren’t leaving until tomorrow morning.”

“Of course they’re not.” You muttered with a scoff and rolled your eyes. “She told me they’d be here today.”

Steve just shrugged, he didn’t want to think too much of it, and you just seemed grumpy about it. Instead, silence fell upon you two, just the crackling of the fire filling the space.

“You ever go skiing before?” he asked, catching you off guard.

“What?”

He leaned back against the hearth, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. “I mean, you don’t exactly strike me as the skiing type.”

You rolled your eyes. “And what type is that, Harrington?”

“I don’t know. You’re… less coordinated?”

A laugh escaped before you could stop it. “You’ve got some nerve for someone who tripped getting out of the car earlier.”

“That was one time!”

“Sure, it was.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Fine. You got me. But seriously—skiing? Yes, or no?”

You shrugged. “Not really. My parents weren’t the ‘weekend getaway’ type.”

“What were they like?”

You stiffened slightly, surprised at the question. Steve wasn’t usually one to ask personal things—not with you, anyway.

“They were... busy,” you said finally, choosing your words carefully. “Work was their priority. Family trips weren’t exactly on the agenda.”

Steve nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. “Yeah. I get that.”

It hit you then that he probably did. You’d heard the whispers about the Harringtons—the absent parents, the big empty house. It was one of the few things you and Steve might have had in common, though neither of you had ever brought it up before.

“Why’d you agree to come on this trip?” you asked, shifting the focus back to him.

Steve gave a half-shrug. “Nancy asked. And I thought... I don’t know. Maybe it’d be fun.”

“Is it?”

“Not so far.”

You snorted, tossing a pillow in his direction. “Gee, thanks.”

He caught it easily, a grin spreading across his face. “Hey, I didn’t say it was all bad. The company’s... tolerable.”

“Wow. High praise coming from you.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he said, tossing the pillow back onto the couch.

The hours stretched on, the storm outside relentless. You’d expected boredom to set in, but instead, you found yourself surprisingly at ease. Steve, for all his usual bravado, had a quiet charm about him when he wasn’t trying to impress anyone.

“You hungry?” he asked at one point, rummaging through the kitchenette.

“Depends. What’s on the menu?”

“Uh... stale crackers and a can of peaches.”

“Gourmet,” you teased.

Steve rolled his eyes but grabbed the peaches and a couple of forks. He handed you one as he sat down on the other end of the couch, the firelight casting warm shadows across his face.

“This is probably the weirdest meal I’ve ever had,” you said, spearing a peach slice.

“You’d be surprised how often I’ve had weirder.”

“Oh, really?”

Steve smirked. “Ever had burnt mac and cheese made with Kool-Aid instead of milk?”

You stared at him, horrified. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Dustin’s idea,” he admitted. “Kid swore it was the future of cuisine.”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t.”

“Not even close.”

You both laughed, the sound filling the small cabin like a warm blanket.

The fire was burning low again, the warmth turning drowsy. You tucked your feet under the blanket, glancing at Steve as he stared into the flames. His profile was softer in the firelight, less sharp edges and more boy-next-door.

“Why do you do that?” you asked suddenly.

He looked at you, eyebrows raised. “Do what?”

“Play dumb. Act like you don’t care about stuff.”

Steve blinked, caught off guard. He leaned back against the armrest, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Habit, I guess.”

“Does it work?”

“Sometimes.” He hesitated, then added, “Not with you, though.”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t let me get away with it,” he said simply. “You never have.”

It wasn’t an accusation—more of an observation. But it still made your chest tighten a little.

“Maybe I just like annoying you,” you said lightly, trying to deflect.

Steve smiled faintly. “Maybe.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy with something unspoken.

Later, when the fire was just embers and the storm outside was a muffled roar, Steve stretched out on the floor with a blanket he’d pulled off the couch.

“You sure you don’t want the cot?” he asked, nodding toward the small bed in the corner.

“It’s barely big enough for one person,” you said, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. “Besides, the couch is fine.”

Steve shrugged, lying on his back with one arm behind his head. “Suit yourself.”

The room settled into a quiet stillness, broken only by the faint whistle of the wind outside. You found your gaze drifting toward Steve, his breathing steady and his face softened in the dim light of the fading fire.

“Hey, Harrington,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

He turned his head slightly, catching your eyes through the dim, dying light of the fire. “For what?”

“For not being a total jerk tonight.”

Steve huffed a quiet laugh. “Anytime.”

You smiled faintly and closed your eyes.

The fire crackled softly, its embers glowing faintly in the darkened room. You lay on the cot, staring at the ceiling and trying to will yourself to sleep. The storm outside had softened to a whisper, but the chill still lingered in the air. You tugged the blanket closer, but it didn’t help much.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Steve shifting on the floor, his blanket tangled around him. He sighed heavily, rolling onto his back.

“Can’t sleep either?” you asked quietly.

Steve huffed. “Not with you tossing and turning like that.”

You sat up, throwing the blanket off. “Fine. I’ll stop.”

He chuckled softly, sitting up as well. “That’s not what I meant.”

You crossed your arms, smirking. “I’m always the problem, huh?”

“Always,” he teased, leaning back on his hands. His grin was lazy, almost playful, and for once, it didn’t irritate you.

A comfortable silence stretched between you, the tension from earlier almost completely dissolved. It was strange—how the walls you’d built so carefully over the years had started to crack in just a few hours.

Steve glanced at you, his expression softer now. “You ever think about getting out of Hawkins?”

You blinked at the sudden question. “What?”

“Like… leaving. Starting over somewhere else. Ever think about it?”

You tilted your head, considering. “Sometimes. Not seriously, though. What about you?”

“All the time.”

His answer surprised you, and you couldn’t hide it. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love parts of it. But… sometimes it feels like I’m stuck. Like no matter what I do, I’m just spinning my wheels.”

You nodded slowly, understanding more than you wanted to admit. You leant down to grab your blanket off the floor and re-wrap yourself in it. “Where would you go?”

Steve shrugged, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. “Somewhere warm. Somewhere big—city-ish.”

“You’d fit right in,” you said, smirking.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. You’ve already got the hair for it.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re not wrong.”

The sound of his laughter warmed the room more than the fire ever could.

As the conversation went on, you found yourself talking about things you rarely shared memories from childhood, your dreams for the future, even the embarrassing stories that only came out at sleepovers. He had even moved from the floor to sit on the couch, by your feet.

Steve told you about the time he got locked out of his house at midnight and had to climb a tree to break into his own bedroom. You told him about the disastrous birthday party where a piñata incident had left you with a black eye for a week.

“I can’t believe you kept going after that,” Steve said, laughing.

“Hey, I wasn’t about to let a busted eye ruin my shot at candy,” you replied, grinning.

He shook his head, still chuckling. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“You callin’ me stubborn?”

“Maybe.” He leaned forward slightly, his gaze holding yours. “But it’s not a bad thing.”

The air between you shifted, heavier now but not uncomfortable. You looked away first, clearing your throat. “We should probably try to sleep again.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, but neither of you moved. And honestly? You didn’t really want him to.

You shifted, sitting up on the couch, your back leaning against the arm of the couch. The fire was little more than a warm glow, and the silence between you carried a weight that neither of you seemed eager to break.

When you finally glanced at him, you caught Steve watching you, his head tilted just slightly, a curious sort of smile playing on his lips.

“What?” you asked, your voice quieter than you’d intended.

He shrugged, mimicking your position. “Nothing. Just trying to figure you out."

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. “I’m not that complicated.”

“Sure you are,” Steve countered, his grin turning teasing. “You’re, like, a whole puzzle. One of those frustrating ones with the tiny pieces that all look the same.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Wow. Real flattering, Harrington.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I didn’t like puzzles,” he shot back, his tone warm, almost playful.

The way he was looking at you now—steady, intent—made your chest tighten again, but for an entirely different reason. You tried to shake it off, shifting your focus to the fire.

“So, uh…” You hesitated, unsure why you felt so off balance all of a sudden. “Why haven’t you left yet?”

Steve frowned. “Left where?”

“Hawkins. If you’re so set on starting over somewhere else, why haven’t you done it?”

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes flicking between you and the firelight. “Guess I just haven’t found a good enough reason.”

The way he said it—low, almost thoughtful—sent a shiver down your spine, though you weren’t sure if it was the cold or something else entirely.

“You need a reason?” you asked, your voice softer now, too.

Steve’s gaze held yours, his expression unreadable. “Don’t you?”

The air between you felt impossibly heavy again, but this time it wasn’t just tension—it was something electric, something alive.

You let out a nervous laugh, breaking eye contact. “What are you doing, Harrington?”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know. What am I doing?”

The challenge in his voice was subtle, but it was there, and it made your pulse quicken. You didn’t answer right away, and when you finally looked at him again, the fire light flickering those brown eyes.

“Careful,” you murmured, your tone wavering between warning and invitation.

Steve smirked, his voice dropping lower. “You think I’m scared of you?”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning forward, now your faces closer then you ever thought they had been. “You should be.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the space between you shrinking with every passing second. His gaze flickered to your lips, just briefly, and your breath hitched before you could stop it.

“Yeah,” he said softly, the hint of a smile still on his lips. “You’re definitely trouble.”

You didn’t have a comeback for that. You didn’t have time to decide if you wanted one or not. In the next second, Steve was gently placing a hand on the back of your neck and pressing his lips against yours. For a moment, you froze—then you felt the warmth of his lips, the slight pressure of his hand on your neck, and something in you gave way.

Your hands left your lap and found Steve’s biceps to hold onto, your pulse hammered in your ears. When Steve pulled back just slightly, his hand still resting against your neck, his eyes searched yours.

“I—” he started, his voice soft, almost unsure.

You didn’t let him finish. With a gentle pull on his arms, you leaned in and kissed him again, this time with more intention. The surprise on his face melted quickly as he kissed you back, his hand sliding from your neck to your jaw, tilting your face toward him.

His touch was firm but unhurried, his lips warm against yours, and for a moment, it was easy to forget about the storm outside, the cold air, or the years of unresolved tension between you.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and just a little dazed, Steve rested his forehead against yours.

“Well,” he said after a beat, his tone tinged with something teasing, “I guess I’m not scared of you after all.”

You huffed a laugh, but it came out shakier than you intended. “You should be.”

His thumb brushed lightly against your jaw, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Not a chance.”

The air between you still buzzed with electricity, but it wasn’t heavy anymore—it was something lighter, something charged with the possibility of more.

You leaned back slightly, eyeing him with mock suspicion. “Was this your plan all along? Get snowed in, flirt a little, and then—”

“Flirt a little?” he interrupted, grinning. “You’ve been flirting with me all night.”

Your jaw dropped, and you swatted his shoulder. “I was not—”

“Oh, come on,” he said, leaning closer again, his grin softening into something quieter. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but there wasn’t any heat behind it. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Maybe.” He paused, his voice dropping lower as he added, “But you’re still here.”

You wanted to argue, to toss a quick retort his way, but the way he was looking at you—like you were the only person in the world right now—made it impossible.

Instead, you kissed him once more, though this time longer.. Steve’s tongue coaxed your lips apart and your tongues met in a dance. The kiss continues to deepen, and Steve’s hand slipped from your jaw to your waist, tugging you just a little closer. His touch was firm but not hurried, his fingers pressing lightly through the fabric of your shirt as if testing your boundaries.

You broke the kiss to catch your breath, your faces still inches apart. “You’re getting bold, Harrington,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing.

Steve’s lips quirked into a lazy grin. “You’re not exactly stopping me,” he shot back, his thumb brushing a slow circle against your hip.

“Maybe I just want to see how far you’ll go,” you replied, leaning closer again. Your words hung between you, a challenge and an invitation rolled into one.

His grin faltered, replaced by something darker, more intent. “Careful,” he said softly, his hand sliding just slightly under the hem of your shirt, his palm warm against your skin. “I’m not great at backing down.”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t move away. “Neither am I,” you whispered, your fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater to pull him closer.

The next kiss wasn’t soft—it was hungry, desperate, the kind of kiss that burned away everything else. Steve shifted, pulling you into his lap in one fluid motion, your legs straddling his hips as the blanket pooled forgotten on the floor. His hands splayed across your back, holding you against him as your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly just to see his reaction.

He groaned against your lips, the sound low and rough, and you felt the vibration of it down your spine. “You really are trouble,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your neck now, his breath warm against your skin.

You tilted your head slightly, giving him more access, your pulse racing. “And you love it,” you said, your voice breathless but still laced with that teasing edge.

Steve pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and focused. “Maybe,” he said, his hands tightening slightly on your waist. “But I think you already knew that.”

Your heart was pounding now, a mixture of excitement and nerves as his lips found yours again, his hands roaming with more confidence. The storm outside raged on, the fire embers casting faint shadows on the walls, but in that moment, nothing else existed but him, his touch, and the heat building between you.

You tugged at the hem of his sweater, breaking the kiss only long enough to help him pull it over his head. He grinned up at you, his hair messier than usual and his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.

“You’re staring,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Shut up,” you said, leaning down to kiss him again, your hands pressed against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

Steve chuckled against your lips, his hands settling on your thighs now, his thumbs tracing small circles. “I think I like you like this,” he murmured.

“Like what?”

“On top of me. Flushed,” he said, his voice low and full of heat.

He had left you almost speechless more times tonight than he had since you’d known him. But you didn’t need to respond, instead his lips began to attack your neck and you tilted your head back to give him room. Steve’s lips explored around the exposed skin, leaving playful nips as he went.

His hands slipped under your shirt, the feeling of his warm palms tracing around your skin gave you shivers. He leaned back from your neck just long enough to pull off your shirt and bra, then he began to trail kisses down your chest.

As Steve's lips trailed down your chest, his hands gently guided you to lie back on the couch. The soft cushions cradled your body, and Steve's eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mix of desire and affection. He leaned over you, his chest pressing against yours, the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart against yours sending shivers down your spine.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath tickling your skin as he spoke. His hands roamed over your body, gentle yet firm, exploring every curve and contour.

You felt a surge of emotion as his fingers traced the lines of your face, his touch tender and intimate. Steve's lips returned to yours, the kiss deepening as he settled more comfortably on top of you.

His hands slipped lower, tracing the edges of your jeans, and you could feel the tension building between you. Steve's movements were slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment of this newfound connection.

As he unbuttoned your jeans, his eyes never left yours, a silent understanding passing between you. The air was thick with anticipation, and the cabin around you melted away, leaving only the two of you, lost in this moment.

Steve's fingers brushed against your skin as he slid your jeans and panties down, his touch sending waves of pleasure through you. He paused for a moment, looking at you with a deep affection and desire, before leaning down to kiss you again.

The world narrowed to the sensation of his lips, his hands, and the warmth of his body against yours. Every kiss, every touch, felt like a promise of something more, something deeper than just a physical connection. You wondered if there was a chance for something like this before. Had you two gotten stuck somewhere together, alone, would this same thing have happened?

It didn’t matter. It was happening right now, wasn’t it? So, enjoy it.

As he kissed you, Steve gently dragged his fingers along your entrance, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His hands moved with a slow, deliberate pace, as if he was savoring every moment. He continued to kiss your lips, neck, an chest as his fingers worked magic, making you feel better than you had ever felt. But it didn’t last long before Steve pulled away to remove his jeans and boxers.

Steve moved close to you again, pressing a swift kiss to your lips before he pushed into you, filling you to the brim with his cock, his thrusts starting slow and gentle, allowing you to adjust and feel every inch of him. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with a deep affection and desire.

"You feel so good," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your hearts beating together.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer as his pace quickened. “Y-you feel good.” You strangled out. Both your moans and groans filled the once silent cabin, even deafening you from the roaring wind outside. Something you only imagined as being wrong, just felt so right.

Steve's thrusts became more urgent, but he never lost the tenderness in his touch. You felt yourself climbing towards a climax, and Steve was right there with you, his body tensing as he reached his own peak.

In the aftermath, you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the warmth of the fireplace and the silence of the cabin enveloping you. Steve's chest rose and fell against yours, and you could feel his heart still racing from the intensity of the moment.

For a long time, you two just lay there, enjoying the quiet, the warmth, and the connection between you. It was a moment of pure bliss, one that neither of you wanted to end. And when your eyes locked with Steve's, you knew that this was just the beginning.

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirates Promise

Chapter 55: Operation Wedding Crash

A/N: And we are back at it again with another new chapter! Remember to read the latest chapter as well as tonight is a double post! We are finally getting to the ass kicking, while also a few revelations are starting to commence. We have a few POV.. Luffy, Y/N, Sanji. Thank you guys for the love on my fanfiction, as well as liking, reblogging, following along, etc! and without further ado, let the adventure begin!

This gif cause Sanji be looking way to good Kicking ass.

This gif because we finally getting Germa fighting back, until we all reach to Beges castle.

Sanji X Reader, One Piece x Reader, Sanji X Y/N 

Y/N POV… 

It all happened so fast—the gunshot echoed through the venue, sending a ripple of shock across the audience. My instincts kicked in as I bolted upright from my seat. "What’s happening up there?" I thought, my heart racing. Ichiji stood up alongside me, his hand reaching out as if to stop me.

"Princess, sit down. Don’t worry," he said, but his tone held a hint of uncertainty. Even Judge stood up, his eyes narrowed, clearly trying to figure out what just unfolded.

“Was that a gunshot?” a voice shouted from afar.

“No, the priest did it!” another person yelled in disbelief.

Chaos erupted in the hall. People began fleeing, and the energy shifted from anticipation to pure panic. Reiju looked at me, her sharp eyes glinting with realization. "Could it be…?" she asked softly.

I smirked, giving her a silent answer. She knew. The plan was in motion.

And then, as if to top off the insanity, the cake exploded—Luffy clones burst out from inside, swarming the room.

“Let’s go!” the real Luffy yelled, his voice standing out from the chaos. “I’m here, Y/N! Sanji!” He waved, still munching on cake as the clones wreaked havoc around him.

A wave of relief washed over me at the sight of him. "You’re here..." I sighed, feeling a surge of hope.

The entire Vinsmoke family stood frozen, completely dumbstruck by the display before them. Yonji and Niji were both speechless, while Ichiji tensed, his protective instincts kicking in. One of Luffy’s clones stumbled toward our table, grinning like an idiot.

I couldn't help but smile as I petted the clone’s head affectionately. “Y/N, what are you doing?!” Ichiji demanded, pulling me behind him, trying to shield me from the chaos.

Rolling my eyes, I carefully began to back away from him. Everyone was distracted—now was my chance to move. The cake began to collapse, pieces falling all around us, making the entire scene look like something out of a twisted comedy.

"Now this is what I call a wedding ceremony," I laughed, the absurdity of the situation catching up to me.

More Luffys popped out of the cake as Big Mom’s booming voice cut through the commotion. “Strawhat! Where are you?!” Her fury was palpable, and I could feel the tension building in the air.

“I know Luffy isn’t going to reveal himself that easily,” I thought, but before I could relax, the cake completely collapsed, sending debris flying everywhere.

And then, out of nowhere, Luffy made the most absurd move. “I’m right over here!” he yelled, standing boldly in front of Big Mom.

“THERE’S NO WAY!” I thought, my eyes widening in disbelief. Of course, only Luffy would pull something like this. But as I turned to my right, I saw King, and he gave me a reassuring nod. “Good,” I thought, feeling a surge of determination. Now all that was left was to continue with the plan, and we could all leave this place.

I clenched my left hand, adrenaline coursing through my veins, readying myself for the leap. “Y/N!” Ichiji yelled, his voice slicing through the chaos. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“What’s it look like? I’m protecting my captain!” I shot back, my voice laced with confidence as I soared through the air and landed beside Luffy.

“Y/N! See! I knew this would make you happy!” Luffy laughed, his infectious energy lifting my spirits as I chuckled along with him. “It really did, Captain,” I replied, our camaraderie reaffirmed as we turned our attention to Big Mom.

“Strawhat and you!” she bellowed, her finger pointed menacingly at me. I wasted no time and reached for my blade, feeling the familiar rush as a blue hue erupted around me. Electrical charges crackled through my body and the blade, amplifying my power.

Luffy took off, leaping into the air to spot the portrait we needed. I dashed alongside him, covering him just in case. “I’m waiting!” Big Mom taunted, her fury palpable.

“Prometheus, Zeus! Get ready! We are going to take out the whole crowd in one shot!” she commanded, her voice booming above the chaos.

“Luffy, keep running! I’m gonna buy us some time!” I yelled, and he nodded, sprinting toward the portrait without hesitation.

With determination surging through me, I clenched my right hand and punched the ground. Lightning erupted from my palm, filling the air with electric energy. Cracks spread out from the impact point, racing toward Big Mom and causing her to momentarily lose her balance.

“Come on, Luffy!” I thought, desperately hoping he’d destroy the portrait in time. “Gomu Gomu—!” Luffy began, only to be stopped mid-attack, his body frozen in place, bound by something unseen.

“Luffy!” I yelled, sprinting toward him, but before I could reach him, my hair was yanked hard, trapping me too.

The same sticky substance wound through my hair like vines, pulling me back and halting my movement. The harder I struggled, the tighter it became. My scalp stung with every pull.

“Let me go!” I screamed, tugging at my hair, but the sticky substance wouldn’t budge.

“This one’s the real Straw Hat. The others were merely transformed by Brûlée’s ability,” came an ominous voice, echoing through the chaos.

“Y/N!” Luffy’s voice was strained, but filled with concern.

“I’m fine, Captain! Don’t worry about me—ow!” I winced as the grip on my hair tightened even more. “I swear, if you’re planning on leaving me bald, I’m gonna—!”

Luffy grunted, trying to break free. “Damn it! Is this some kind of Devil Fruit power? My arms and legs won’t move!”

I tried pulling myself forward, but the sticky substance kept me sliding back, each movement making it worse. My blade, still strapped to my thigh, began to glow with a faint violet hue, reacting to my growing frustration.

“Katakuri, I can handle this!” Big Mom growled from the distance, but Katakuri raised a hand.

“That’s not the problem... He’s not after you, Mama. He’s after Mother Carmel’s portrait,” Katakuri explained, his voice calm and focused. He waved a hand, pulling both Luffy and me higher into the air with ease, suspending us as if we were mere toys. My hair was still bound, causing me to dangle awkwardly as I struggled to keep my balance.

“Fuck!” I cursed through gritted teeth.

“Y/N!” Luffy shouted again, dangling beside me, still trapped.

“How do you know the significance of the portrait? Only family members are privy to that secret,” Katakuri said, his sharp gaze on us as he began shaking both Luffy and me, sending jolts of pain through my body. I couldn’t help but let out a yelp.

“Who cares?!” Luffy shouted defiantly, still thrashing against his bindings.

Katakuri lifted us even higher, ready to slam us into the ground with immense force. The air around us seemed to tense as the ground below rushed up to meet us.

“Luffy! Y/N!” Pedro shouted in alarm.

“Leave it to me, Pedro!” Jinbei’s calm yet powerful voice cut through the panic.

I bit my lip, trying to focus through the pain, when suddenly, a familiar voice echoed in my head.

“I warned you about that hair, Princess!”

Before I could process the words, the grip on my hair loosened abruptly.

“Y/N! Watch out!” Luffy yelled as I began to fall.

I gasped, plummeting toward the table below. With just seconds to spare, I clenched my left hand, the adrenaline coursing through me, and I dashed toward the ground, landing with a thud but managing to stay upright. Jinbei’s quick water technique had freed Luffy, breaking Katakuri’s trap in the nick of time.

Breathing heavily, I stood up, barely catching my breath when a shadow loomed over me. I looked up, and standing next to me was a figure I knew all too well.

“Y/N! Watch out! Gomu Gomu—” Luffy began, but I raised my hand, stopping him.

“Luffy, wait. Stop.” I took a deep breath and gestured toward the towering figure beside me.

“This… this is King,” I said, my voice low but steady. King stood tall, his entire aura radiating power as his sword glowed an eerie blue.

King’s eyes met mine briefly, and then his focus shifted to the battlefield. His blade shimmered with a brilliant light, as if it held the force of the ocean itself within its steel.

With a swift, calculated move, he raised his sword high. The air around us shifted, the atmosphere thickening as droplets of moisture began to form. King’s Ocean Cleaver technique summoned water from the very air, condensing it into razor-sharp waves of liquid that surged forward with devastating force.

The water wasn’t just liquid—it moved like living steel, wrapping around the sticky substance that had bound my hair and Luffy’s limbs. The shimmering water sliced through Katakuri’s trap with ease, each wave of the technique cutting the bonds with surgical precision.

I watched in awe as the sticky gunk dissolved, evaporating into steam as the water met it. King’s mastery of his technique was undeniable; it wasn’t just raw power, it was control.

The water blades continued to swirl, moving gracefully before crashing down with a thunderous force, shattering the remnants of the trap that had held us. I was finally free.

"Water, huh?” I muttered between heavy breaths, brushing the last remnants of the gunk from my hair. “Didn’t know it could do that.”

King smirked slightly, his sword still glowing with the power of the ocean, as he glanced back at me.

“You’re welcome, Princess,” he said, his voice as calm as ever, the tension in the air around us thickening once more.

I began to shake my head, feeling a few loose strands fall onto my shoulders. "King, I swear, you better have given me a good cut!" I said, reaching up and realizing my hair now stopped just at my shoulders.

King chuckled, the sound deep and familiar. "I told you about that hair of yours years ago," he teased, causing my face to flush a little.

Before I could snap back at him, King shifted his attention toward Luffy. "You must be Straw Hat Luffy, correct?" he said, now standing tall in front of Luffy, his presence commanding.

Luffy, ever confident, grinned back at him. "Yeah! And I'm going to be King of the Pirates!"

"I've heard so much about you..." King said, his tone measured, but his eyes flicked briefly in my direction.

Luffy’s curiosity kicked in instantly. "How do you two know each other?"

I couldn’t help but smile at the memory, brushing a lock of my newly shortened hair away from my face. "Luffy, King was the man who trained me two years ago. That's where I learned all my tricks and techniques."

Luffy's eyes widened, a mix of excitement and shock in his voice. "You're the one who gave her those rings and weapons!" he yelled, pointing toward King. "The ones that glow!"

King nodded, crossing his arms. "That's correct. I even gave her the title of 'Princess,' as she deserved it," he added with a smirk, his eyes filled with pride.

Luffy, always quick to recognize strength, stepped forward eagerly. "You're here to help us?"

King’s smirk deepened, his presence commanding as his energy pulsed through the air. "I’m here to join you. A friend of the Princess is an ally of mine," he declared, his aura surging with power.

Turning to him, I made my decision. "King, protect Luffy. I’m going to protect Reiju," I said, securing my blade in its place on my thigh halter.

King nodded without hesitation.

"Luffy, King is going to take my place for a bit, but I’ll be back soon," I assured him.

Luffy grinned wide. "Sure! Wouldn’t want you to miss all the fun, anyway!"

I smiled, clenching my left hand as a burst of energy coursed through me. In an instant, I dashed toward the Vinsmoke table at lightning speed. Judge spotted me approaching and rose to his feet, his voice booming.

"Bunch of miscreants. Did they come to take Sanji—and you, Princess?" Judge sneered, making his way toward me.

My smirk widened. "I knew I should have kept you on a tighter leash," he spat with disdain.

"Maybe you should have," I replied, my confidence never wavering.

"The wedding's ruined at any rate," Niji grumbled, glancing around at the chaos. His expression was sour, but a slight smirk tugged at his lips.

"Well, I’ll be damned," Yonji chimed in, his gaze locking on me. "I thought Straw Hat was dead. And I didn’t know the Princess could pack a punch like that," he added, his voice laced with admiration.

I gave him a teasing smile. "There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me," I said, sending him a playful wink. I watched in amusement as his face turned slightly pink.

Before I could react further, Ichiji moved swiftly, grabbing my waist and yanking me close. His grip was firm, his breath hot against my face. "You think you can just stroll in here and entertain my brother in front of me like that?" he growled, jealousy burning in his eyes.

I met his glare with a smirk of my own. "You know," I taunted, "you look pretty damn good when you’re mad. I don’t know... it’s doing something to me." I laughed, watching his expression falter for a split second, caught off guard by my playful banter.

"Don't worry, Vinsmoke family... the Charlotte family shall take care of this matter lickety split," said Perospero, a sly grin spreading across his face. I couldn’t shake the feeling that his words were laced with deception. I know this is a trick...

Suddenly, Jinbei stepped forward, his voice steady and strong. "I’m leaving Big Mom’s crew to join the Straw Hats!" The declaration hung in the air, a challenge to the chaos surrounding us.

Big Mom’s expression darkened, and her aura shifted as she prepared to unleash her fury. "So, you’ve decided to betray me, Jinbei?" she thundered, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Well, let’s see how you fare against me!" She began to gather power, her Soul Pocus ready to ensnare him.

"I can’t be intimidated by a mere emperor of the sea!" Jinbei shot back defiantly, standing his ground.

"Yeah! Jinbei!" I cheered, adrenaline surging through me at the thought of him joining our crew.

Big Mom’s laughter filled the air, deep and ominous. "Congratulations, Jinbei! You’ve made a powerful enemy. I hope you’re happy!" With a wave of her hand, she summoned Prometheus, launching a massive attack aimed directly at Jinbei.

"Jinbei!" I yelled, ready to rush to his aid when Ichiji’s grip tightened around my wrist, pulling me back toward the table.

"Hey!" I stumbled, my balance thrown off as I struggled against him.

"You’re not going anywhere," Ichiji growled in a low, menacing voice.

"The hell I am!" I retorted, fire in my eyes. My determination surged, and I broke free from his grip, only for him to spin me around, his arms wrapping tightly around my waist, trapping me against him.

"I don’t think you understand the situation, Princess," he hissed, his breath brushing against my ear. "You’re not leaving my side."

I glared at him, every fiber of my being refusing to yield.

Nami POV…

So, that's King? I thought, my eyes widening as I watched the imposing figure stand beside Luffy. His presence was undeniable, a powerful aura radiating from him that made my heart race. "His power is incredible," I murmured to myself, barely able to tear my gaze away. I was crouched in our hiding spot with Carrot and Chopper, both of them blissfully focused on the frosting they were devouring.

“Y/N did tell us that he was strong, but I never would have imagined he was that strong,” I continued, my admiration for King growing with every passing moment. The way he commanded the room, the intensity in his gaze—it was clear that he was not someone to be underestimated.

“Who is he, Nami?” Carrot asked, frosting smudged on her cheeks, her curiosity piqued as she leaned in closer.

 “He trained Y/N during her two years away from us,” I explained, feeling a surge of pride for my friend. “She learned a lot from him, including some impressive techniques.” Suddenly, I glanced at Y/N and saw Ichiji gripping her wrists, preventing her from moving. “This asshole!” I exclaimed, my fists clenching in frustration. “We gotta do something!”

Carrot, her eyes wide with worry, nodded fervently. “We can’t just stand here! What do we do?”

“We have to wait for Brook to smash the portrait,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the urgency in my heart. “That’s our best chance to create a distraction.”

Just then, Jinbei stepped forward, declaring to Big Mom that he was leaving her crew to join us. “Yeah!” I yelled, a thrill of excitement rushing through me. “He’s so awesome!” Chopper cheered, his small fists raised in celebration as we watched Jinbei stand his ground against the massive presence of Big Mom.

As the battle between Jinbei and Big Mom intensified, my attention flickered back to Y/N, who was still struggling against Ichiji. Suddenly, one of Big Mom’s children shouted, “Hey! Someone smashed Mother Carmel’s portrait!”

“Yes! Nice work!” yelled Luffy, his voice filled with triumph.

But I noticed that Big Mom hadn’t screamed yet, which sent a wave of unease through me. “What’s taking her so long?” I murmured, anxiously glancing between the chaotic battle in front of me and the tense standoff with Y/N and Ichiji.

Y/N POV… 

I continued to struggle against Ichiji's grip, my heart racing as I caught a glimpse of Brook finally breaking Mother Carmel’s portrait. "Way to go!" I yelled, the excitement bubbling up inside me. Phase 2 was complete, but now it was time for Phase 3.

Yet, Big Mom remained silent. “What’s taking her so long?” I whispered to myself, my mind racing with anxiety as I squirmed in Ichiji's hold.

Ichiji’s grip was now focused on my wrists, and I could feel the pressure constricting my movements, his strength unyielding. "Quit squirming," he growled, his voice laced with annoyance. I winced, my chest pressing uncomfortably close to his, feeling the heat radiating from his body. The proximity sent my heart racing—not just from fear but from the unsettling intensity between us.

Chaos erupted all around us. I managed to turn my head just enough to see Luffy, Jinbei, and King fighting side by side, trying to buy more time until Big Mom’s inevitable scream. The picture had been smashed, but she still hadn’t reacted. What was taking so long?

"You imbeciles! Can no one here do anything right?!" Judge’s furious voice cut through the noise. He stood rigid, witnessing the chaos unfold around him. "Fetch our weapons and get these cretins under control!" he barked at Perospero, his rage palpable.

I was about to spit out a retort, but Ichiji’s grip on my wrists tightened again, cutting off my words. I bit my lip to stop the pained sound that threatened to escape. My head instinctively rested against his neck as I tried to gather my composure.

"You think you can keep me like this forever?" I whispered venomously into his ear, glaring up at him. "You’re sadly mistaken."

Ichiji didn’t respond with words but instead forced me into a chair beside him. I glanced at Niji, Yonji, and Reiju, all of them focused on the escalating battle and Judge’s orders. Ichiji’s right hand dangerously inched closer to my thigh, his fingers brushing against the skin just above my thigh holster, where my hidden blade lay, inches away from his hand.

"This new look suits you," Ichiji murmured as his hand slid into my short hair, his fingers lingering in the curls that had been left intact. He gripped my hair suddenly, pulling me closer to him, his eyes dark with intent. "As long as I have a good grip," he said lowly, his tone dripping with dominance, "you’ll be submitting."

Before I could even react, he kissed me. My eyes widened in shock, my body instinctively freezing. His hand trailed up toward my neck, and I felt a light pressure as he squeezed it, just enough to send a jolt through me. A sensation I wasn’t prepared for rolled over me, my eyes fluttering for a moment. He pulled away, leaving me breathless, his lips curling into a smug grin.

"I knew..." he whispered, his voice barely audible against the noise of the battlefield. "I knew you liked being dominated."

I wanted to scream, to hit him, to do anything but sit there powerless. Yet his grip on me, the situation, everything was too much, too fast.

Reiju and I exchanged a glance, both of us knowing what was coming. Her eyes mirrored my concern. Across the rooftop, Perospero continued with his deception, his sugary-coated words aimed at appeasing Judge and the others.

"Please, no need to worry," Perospero said smoothly. "I told you, we have this situation covered. Rest assured, you're in good hands with me. Take a lickety load off, okay? Just enjoy the show... you’re our guests, after all."

There was something ominous in his tone, the deception seeping through.

Sanji POV… 

As I sprinted through the chaos, carrying Pudding in my arms, my mind raced with conflicting emotions. Guilt gnawed at me. "I should be protecting Y/N!" The thought of her in danger cut through me like a knife. But here I was, trying to find safety for Pudding. "Are you okay, Pudding? Let's find someplace safe," I muttered, breathless from running.

Suddenly, I heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. My eyes widened in shock as Pudding, the girl I was carrying to safety, aimed a pistol at me. With barely a second to react, I dropped her, narrowly dodging the bullet as it whizzed past my head.

"Pudding, stop!" I called out, bewildered.

Her expression twisted with something far darker than the sweet girl I thought I knew. "Be quiet! Look! This is the real me. See? Are you surprised? Or maybe... disappointed? Not to worry though, you won't have to live with the truth for long!" Her voice was sharp, laced with bitterness as she fired again, her hands shaking with emotion. I dodged each shot with precise movements, stepping closer to her, trying to make sense of what was happening.

"I've been conning idiots like you my whole life. You’re so easy to deceive!" Pudding's voice cracked, but her hands trembled more with each shot. She was running out of bullets.

I stared at her, my heart heavy. "And what about you?" I said quietly, stopping just a few steps away.

"What?!" she snapped, her voice rising with hysteria.

"What I mean is... you’ve been deceiving yourself too, haven’t you, Pudding?" I said softly, my eyes meeting hers.

Her eyes glistened, filled with unshed tears. "Shut up! What would you know?!" she yelled, her voice breaking as she wiped at her face furiously. "Don’t act like you understand!"

Tears finally spilled over, but before I could respond, Daifuku, one of her siblings, appeared out of nowhere. His towering form loomed over us as he sneered at Pudding. "You screwed this one up, Pudding," he muttered coldly.

Pudding's face fell. "Daifuku?!" she said, her voice trembling.

"We don’t have time to screw around like this," he barked, slapping her hard across the face. The force of the blow sent her flying across the battlefield.

"Hang on, Pudding!" I shouted, but Daifuku was already advancing on me, giving me no time to reach her.

"You already had your chance and you blew it," he growled, his eyes filled with contempt.

I leaped into the air, determined to protect her, despite everything. "Who the hell is this guy!" I muttered under my breath as I readied myself for the fight.

Luffy POV…

"Gomu Gomu no Jet Gatling!" I shouted, my fists a blur as they pounded into Big Mom’s children. Beside me, King moved with deadly grace, his blade slicing through the chaos like it was nothing.

“Nice job, King!” I called out, a grin on my face. He barely acknowledged me with a nod, his focus locked on the enemies before us. His skill was unreal, and even in the middle of all the chaos, he fought like nothing could touch him.

Out of nowhere, I felt something yank me backward, sending me crashing to the ground. “What the—”

Bege appeared above me, grinning as he stood over my fallen form.

"What's your deal, Bege?" I growled, trying to get back up, but before I could, he planted a foot on my chest, pinning me to the ground.

"Shut it, Strawhat," Bege said, leaning in. "I'm head of security. If I don’t make this look real, they’ll figure out what we’re up to."

I struggled under his weight, but he didn't budge. “I’ve captured the captain!” Bege shouted, making sure Big Mom’s kids heard.

“Good! Now kill him!” came a voice from one of her children.

I blinked in disbelief. “What?!” I yelled, panic rising in my chest as Bege reached for his gun.

"You know..." Bege said, almost lazily. "That ain't such a bad idea. Taking you out would save me a lot of trouble."

But before he could pull the trigger, a crackle of energy filled the air. A flash of light appeared between us as King’s sword swung down, stopping inches from Bege’s throat. The blade began to shimmer, bright blue lightning crawling up the metal, bolts arcing wildly, ready to strike.

King stood tall over me, his face unreadable, but his sword hummed with raw power. "That’s enough," he growled.

Bege froze, eyes widening as he stared at the lightning dancing along the edge of King’s sword. “Whoa, whoa, take it easy there,” he muttered, his cocky attitude vanishing in an instant.

King’s dark eyes narrowed, his voice cold as ice. “I may not know him,” he said, his sword sparking with energy, “but he’s very important to the princess. Anyone who harms him under my watch...”

He didn’t need to finish. The blue lightning flared, and the threat in his tone was more than clear.

Bege gulped, hands raised in surrender. "Alright, alright! Just doing my job!" The tension in his voice betrayed how rattled he was. "No need to go all electric on me."

King didn’t lower his sword. The blade crackled with power, arcs of blue lightning still flickering. “Keep your act going,” King said, his voice a quiet growl, “but remember: if you betray the princess, I will strike you down.”

Bege swallowed hard, giving a quick nod before backing away, hands still raised. “Sure, sure, we’re all on the same side here,” he muttered, clearly rattled.

"Anyway, listen—we hit a snag..." Bege muttered under his breath, glancing around nervously. His usual cocky tone was strained, clearly worried about the situation spiraling out of control.

"What’s taking Big Mom so long to scream?!" Jinbei shouted, his voice booming as he fended off multiple Charlotte siblings. His Fishman Karate moves were fluid, powerful, but the enemy was relentless. "I can’t hold them off much longer!" he yelled, frustration in his voice.

"Stop, Jinbei!" came a familiar voice. Oven appeared, his massive form crackling with heat. "Oven?!" Jinbei exclaimed, immediately recognizing the dangerous foe.

"Be careful, Pedro! Don’t let him make contact with you!" Jinbei warned, but it was too late. Pedro's sword clashed with Oven’s superheated body, and a wave of searing pain shot through him as his sword began to burn in his grip.

"Argh!" Pedro grunted, pulling back in pain, his hands singed from the intense heat.

I glanced around the battlefield, trying to focus amidst the chaos. "Brook! You okay?" I yelled, spotting my crewmate—or what was left of him. Brook’s skull rolled across the floor, his body lying in a heap nearby.

"Yohoho... just fine, Luffy!" Brook’s disembodied head called out in his usual cheery voice. Even in a situation like this, he managed to keep his humor intact.

King, standing beside me, glanced down at the talking skull with a raised brow. "You must be the skeleton the princess was talking about," King remarked, his voice low and almost curious as he eyed Brook’s severed head.

Brook, even as a severed head, managed to keep his upbeat attitude. "Ah, the princess speaks highly of me, it seems! Yohoho!"

"I didn’t know you could do that, Brook! You’re like a detachable toy!" I laughed despite the chaos.

"Luffy, we need to stay focused," Brook replied, his tone serious even as his head sat separated from his body.

Judge’s voice boomed angrily from nearby. "What is the meaning of this?! How dare you pull something like this on us!" I turned my attention toward him and saw the Vinsmokes, including Y/N, wrapped in Perospero’s thick candy.

"Y/N!" I yelled, my heart racing as I watched her struggle, the sticky candy holding her tightly. She thrashed, but it only seemed to pull her deeper into the sugary trap.

"Princess!" King roared beside me, his eyes glowing with rage as he gripped his sword, now crackling with blue lightning. The air around him buzzed with electric energy, and he looked ready to charge straight into the chaos, aiming to cut down anyone who dared harm her.

"King, hold on!" I quickly stretched out my arms, wrapping them around him to hold him back. "Y/N wouldn’t want you to get hurt! We’ve gotta stick to the plan!"

King’s eyes, still glowing gold, locked onto mine, filled with fury and concern. For a moment, it felt like he might rip free of my grasp and go after her anyway. Then, he took a deep breath, lowering his sword just a little, though the electricity still buzzed along its edge. "If anything happens to her, Strawhat, it’s on you," he growled, his voice like thunder, but he stayed his charge.

"Don’t worry, we’re going to save her! We just need Big Mom to scream, and then we can break everyone free!" I promised, glancing toward the chaos around us. Jinbei, Pedro, and the others were still fighting off Big Mom’s children, and time was running out. Big Mom needed to react, and fast.

Y/N POV…

"What is the meaning of this?!" Judge roared, thrashing in his candy binds as guns pressed cold against the back of our heads. My own body was tightly restrained by Perospero’s sickeningly sweet trap, and I couldn’t stop myself from struggling. I twisted and pulled, the sticky restraints tightening more with every move.

"Is that really necessary?!" I shouted, my voice raw from the effort as I fought against the candy-coated chains, and the charlotte family appeared behind us cocking their guns.

"You’re licked," Perospero smirked, his voice dripping with arrogance as he approached me, his candy scepter raised.

"Even in the underworld, we honor decency!" Judge snapped, his struggles becoming more desperate.

"You said it—underworld!" I shouted, not backing down despite the tension in the air. "Guess what? We’re not there!"

Perospero’s smirk only deepened as he stepped even closer. "The princess has quite a mouth on her," he said mockingly, his scepter inching toward my face. "Your death is going to be quite the scene."

I spat in his face, my fury spilling over. For a moment, everything was still. Then, with a cold, furious gleam in his eyes, Perospero wiped the spit from his cheek and brought his candy scepter down, striking me hard across the face. Pain exploded in my skull as my head snapped to the side, blood instantly pouring from the wound. I gasped, the sharp sting blurring my vision as I struggled to stay conscious, my breathing now heavy and ragged.

"Y/N!" Ichiji’s voice rang out, a raw edge of rage searing through the air. I barely turned my head toward him, the pounding in my skull making it difficult to focus. His usual calm demeanor was shattered, replaced by a burning fury I hadn’t seen before.

"Ichiji..." I whispered, forcing a weak smile despite the sharp pain radiating through my body. "I’m fine..."

His face twisted in anger, eyes darkening as his fist clenched. “Perospero, if you touch her again, I’ll kill you where you stand!” His voice was low, vibrating with fury, barely contained.

Perospero glanced lazily in Ichiji's direction, amusement glinting in his eyes. He didn't seem the least bit concerned by Ichiji’s threat, almost savoring the tension in the air. “Touchy, touchy, aren’t we? Such strong feelings for the princess.” His grin widened wickedly, clearly enjoying the power he held over us.

Ichiji's gaze sharpened his stance tense with barely restrained violence. “She’s my wife!” he yelled, the words a growl that was almost feral.

Perospero chuckled, a low, mocking sound. “For someone who was born without a lick of emotions, it seems your wife here causes quite the stir in your heart," he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Who knew the ice-cold Vinsmoke could be so... possessive?” He eyed me with a smirk, the gleam of amusement never leaving his face.

Ichiji’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as his grip on the situation became even more dangerous. “Don’t mistake my control for weakness, Perospero,” he growled, the tension in the air thickening. “I don’t take kindly to anyone touching what’s mine.”

"Answer me!" Judge demanded, his voice trembling with frustration and anger.

"A little late to whine about it now, Father," Ichiji shot back, his tone laced with bitterness. He turned to me, his gaze softening slightly. "We sure walked into this one, huh? This candy has us bound."

Yonji chimed in, his voice full of frustration but tinged with humor. "They swiped all our weapons at the gate. They even have our raid suits. And since the princess can’t reach for her weapons… well, we’re pretty much screwed." He smirked at me. "By the way, sister-in-law, nice spit landing on Perospero. Hot-blooded women have my heart."

"Really, Yonji? At a time like this?" I replied, shaking my head, though a faint smirk tugged at the corner of my lips.

"Hey, I’m just making a statement, that’s all," Yonji said, trying to lighten the mood despite the tension surrounding us.

"Hopeless," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head as the dire situation settled in.

"I guess we aimed too high, huh?" Niji added with a laugh, glancing at Yonji. The two of them chuckled like they weren’t in the middle of a life-or-death situation.

"What is wrong with you? Stop laughing!" Judge barked, the stress clearly getting to him as he thrashed against the candy binds.

I turned to Reiju, catching her eye and giving her a small, reassuring smile. She nodded slightly, though I could see the concern in her eyes.

"Oh my goodness," Perospero said with mock exasperation. "As far as assassinations go, this is quite sad." He flicked his tongue out, taunting us with his twisted grin. "Are you tongue-tied, princess?"

I rolled my eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. "No, but I’m getting tired of hearing you talk."

Niji let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering toward Ichiji. "Ichiji, your wife has some nasty claws," he said with a teasing grin, clearly proud of the chaos I was stirring.

Ichiji's eyes narrowed slightly, but a faint smirk tugged at his lips. "I wouldn’t have it any other way," he replied, his tone full of both admiration and intensity as he glanced at me.

"Always the charmer," I muttered under my breath, still struggling against the candy binds. Despite everything, the banter between the brothers lightened the mood—if only for a moment.

"Really?" Yonji chimed in with a playful smirk. "Hot-headed and a fighter. I don’t know if I should be impressed or terrified."

"You should be focused on getting out of these binds, not flirting with your sister-in-law," I shot back, rolling my eyes at Yonji's antics.

"Hey, I'm just saying," Yonji grinned, unfazed. "But yeah, let's save the compliments for after we get out of this mess."

I couldn���t help but roll my eyes at his nonchalance, though part of me appreciated the attempt to keep the mood light. As my gaze shifted, I saw someone familiar standing near Luffy—King. His towering figure was brimming with intensity, blue lightning crackling around him, ready to strike down anyone who dared stand in his way.

"King..." I thought, feeling a strange mix of relief and apprehension. I knew King well enough to understand that once he was riled up, he was a force of nature. His golden eyes were locked on Perospero, and the tension between them was palpable. He looked ready to obliterate anyone who even thought about harming me.

But then I saw Luffy's rubber arms wrapped around King, holding him back. "Luffy's stopping him?" I wondered, slightly surprised. I could tell that King wanted to unleash hell on anyone who threatened me, but Luffy wasn’t letting him.

"Good," I muttered to myself. I was grateful for Luffy’s intervention—if King charged in now, things could spiral out of control fast. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to get caught in the crossfire, especially with all this blue lightning swirling around them, intensifying with every second. It was like a storm ready to break at any moment.

"Ohhh, he mad mad," I thought, watching King, the energy around him crackling with pure rage. His patience was wearing thin, and honestly, I didn’t blame him.

"Just hold on a little longer," I whispered to myself, my eyes flicking back to my binds. I just needed a small opening, a tiny chance to break free. And then... things would get real. 

"I've worked so hard... I've devoted my entire life to this! I've shed blood, sweat, and tears for the Germa Empire. Big Mom, what do you have to say for yourself?!" Judge screamed, tears streaming down his face. His once-proud composure had crumbled in front of everyone, and it was honestly a little hard to watch. Not because I felt bad for him, but because the man who claimed to be so strong was now groveling in defeat.

"What’s that? Germa’s going to be wiped out today?" a bystander shouted, feeding into the chaos.

"Ohhh, the news is hot today!" chimed in the bird, snapping more pictures as the crowd laughed.

"Great, just what we need. Headlines tomorrow." I rolled my eyes, listening to the mocking voices around us.

"Germa's leader is bawling his eyes out!" another bystander taunted, drawing even more laughter.

"Please... tell me it’s all a lie..." Judge cried, his voice cracking in desperation.

Perospero, looking thoroughly amused by the scene, decided to step in. "Mama’s not in any state to respond, you're wasting your time. When Mother Carmel's portrait shattered, it caused quite the stir. I admit, I felt something twist inside me for a moment, but Mama’s rage just... well, it finished the job." He stepped closer, his cane tapping rhythmically against the ground as he loomed over me. “Now, Princess,” he continued with an unsettling grin, “once you’re consumed, we’ll be unstoppable—thanks to Germa 66, of course. And those lovely little weapons you carry.”

"Yeah, yeah, keep talking," I replied coolly. "I’m getting tired of hearing your voice, anyway."

"Feisty, aren’t we?" Perospero sneered, his eyes narrowing. "You’re playing with fire."

"Please, I’ve faced worse than you," I retorted, my gaze unwavering. "And for the record, danger’s the best thing for the soul."

Perospero paused, eyes flickering with something close to intrigue, as if I was somehow different from the countless others he’d dealt with. I couldn’t help but glance over at Ichiji, his jaw clenched, his gaze locked onto us with intensity.

I let a smirk tug at my lips. "Besides, my husband doesn't seem to mind a little danger, does he?" I said, deliberately locking eyes with Ichiji. The blush that crept across his face didn’t go unnoticed, and for a moment, his stoic expression wavered.

Niji, of course, couldn’t resist. "Yo, Ichiji, your wife’s got quite the mouth on her!" he chuckled, making Yonji snicker too.

Ichiji’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and I couldn't help but feel a little victorious. "You’re not wrong," he muttered, half-embarrassed but also clearly impressed.

Perospero sneered, though he seemed less confident now. "A mouth like that might get you into more trouble than you think, Princess," he warned.

"Try me," I shot back, the fire in my voice unmistakable. "You wouldn’t last ten minutes with me."

Ichiji visibly stiffened, his eyes flickering with pride and a hint of something else—protectiveness, maybe? Whatever it was, it didn’t go unnoticed by Perospero, who clearly didn’t like being challenged like this.

"Careful, Princess," Perospero's voice took on a darker, more menacing tone as he leaned in closer, his candy scepter tapping against the ground ominously. "You may be married, but that sharp tongue of yours is going to get you into some serious trouble."

"Good," I shot back with a defiant grin, staring him down without a hint of fear. "I like trouble."

Perospero’s grin faltered, but before he could respond, I added, "And another thing, candy man—what’s Pudding’s deal with me anyway? Maybe she’s bitter and jealous." I shrugged nonchalantly, knowing the jab would irritate him.

His expression darkened further, his lips curling into a snarl.

"Regardless, if she wants to fight, let her know I’m more than ready. Hell, I’ll take both you and her on. Let’s make it a family affair." My voice dripped with sarcasm, daring him to react, my grin never fading.

Perospero clenched his jaw, visibly irritated now. "You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess," he sneered. "But don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get a front-row seat to the Vinsmoke family's destruction. Maybe then that attitude of yours will fade away."

"Maybe," I replied with a smirk, "but probably not."

Ichiji, watching the exchange, narrowed his eyes at Perospero, his temper clearly rising. He strained against the candy binds, his voice low and angry. "If you so much as touch her again, I’ll make sure you regret it."

Perospero glanced at him with mock amusement. "Such fierce loyalty. How sweet... but misguided."

"Yeah, we’ll see about that," I muttered under my breath, already planning my next move.

Sanji POV.. 

"Y/N!" I heard Luffy’s voice cut through the chaos. As I battled Daifuku, trading blows with him, I caught sight of Luffy, his face contorted with rage as blue electricity crackled violently around someone standing beside him. Whoever they were, they held a blade to Bege. "Who the hell is that?" I thought, my focus wavering for just a moment.

My heart dropped when I followed Luffy’s gaze, realizing what he was looking at. My family—along with Y/N—were all trapped in candy, bound by Perospero's twisted creation. “Y/N!” I yelled, panic rising in my chest. "Damn it! This wasn’t supposed to happen!" I cursed under my breath, ducking as Daifuku sent another wave of attacks toward me, his genie looming above, ready to strike.

I dodged the next assault, but my eyes stayed fixed on Y/N, who was still struggling in the candy bindings. Guns were now aimed at the back of her head—and the heads of the rest of my family. I could hear her voice, filled with frustration and rage, even from this distance. "Is that really necessary?!" she yelled, trashing in her restraints.

Perospero slithered closer to her, that smug grin plastered across his face as if he had already won. But Y/N, in true form, spat right in his face.

I smirked, despite the situation. "Oh, she’s really mad now," I thought.

But then, my smirk vanished. Perospero raised his candy scepter and struck Y/N on the head, hard. I watched in horror as she gasped, her head snapping to the side, her body faltering as she slumped closer to where Ichiji sat. Her breathing became shallow and ragged, and a dark rage boiled inside me. She was hurt. He hurt her.

“We need something!” I shouted, my voice shaking with desperation as I blocked another strike from Daifuku’s genie. “We’ve got one shot to take them all out simultaneously, and we need to make it count!”

My mind raced, searching for a plan, any plan, to get her out of there, to stop the guns aimed at her head before it was too late. "I can’t lose her," I thought, my eyes burning with a mix of fear and fury.

I threw a powerful kick toward Daifuku, my mind already turning to Y/N, my family, and what I had to do next. "Just hang in there, Y/N. I’m coming for you," I swore under my breath, determined to save her from this nightmare.

Luffy POV…

“We need to go help them out!” I shouted, my heart racing as I watched Y/N and Sanji’s family in peril. King’s energy crackled beside me, ready to explode. “What are we waiting for? We can’t let them stay like that!”

“I knew that trick would be nothing but trouble,” King said, a hint of amusement breaking through his fierce demeanor as he recalled Y/N’s bold spit at Perospero. “But honestly, he should know better than to taunt our princess.”

Just then, a wave of anger crashed over me as I saw Perospero strike Y/N with his candy scepter, blood spilling from the side of her head. “Y/N!” I yelled, rage boiling within me.

“Luffy, wait! Listen to me!” Brook’s voice cut through the chaos, drawing our attention. Both King and Bege turned to him, concern etched on their faces. “We need to tread carefully. Big Mom is in an emotional frenzy, and she doesn’t know what to focus on first… If we can show her the broken picture again, it might distract her.”

I looked at Brook’s head, trying to grasp his strategy. “Sure! If that’s what we need to do, let’s do it!” I said, my determination unwavering.

But Bege quickly countered, “Buddy… that ship has sailed.”

Before I could respond, I felt a heavy presence approach. “Strawhat, what’s wrong?” King asked, his eyes narrowing, scanning the area.

“That tall guy from before is coming!” I said, pushing myself up, ready for action.

“Katakuri? Good. Change of plans, then,” Bege said, a serious tone creeping into his voice. “If Katakuri’s looking pale, it means he’s seen a future where things go south. You think that’s true, Strawhat?”

“Just leave it to me! Let’s go, King!” I declared, adrenaline surging through my veins. King nodded, his resolve mirroring my own.

Y/N POV… 

I continued to thrash against the candy binds, frustration boiling inside me. If only I could clench my left fist, I could melt this stuff off. I felt the heat within me, but the restraints held tight, a suffocating reminder of my situation.

“Equip your invisible symphonia!” Bege shouted. My eyes widened in realization as the words registered. The earplugs! He was trying to give us a fighting chance, but I still couldn’t reach anything. He literally could have just said earplugs, I thought, rolling my eyes internally.

“Bege?…” Perospero’s voice cut through the chaos, irritation radiating off him. “What the hell is he doing?” another one of Big Mom's children yelled, confusion mirroring my own.

“Looks like you weren’t prepared, I see,” I taunted, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “I don’t know what it is with you Big Mom men, always overcompensating when you’re clearly lacking in that department.”

Just then, Perospero swung his candy scepter and struck my head once more. A sharp, banging pain echoed through me, and I gritted my teeth as more blood began to trickle down my face. Son of a... I muttered, barely able to keep my composure.

“Y/N!” Ichiji yelled, his voice thick with rage, but I could sense the worry lurking beneath. Reiju kept looking at me with a mix of disbelief and concern, as if she thought I was insane for facing off against Perospero like this.

“You think you’re clever, huh, princess?” Perospero spat, leaning in closer, his grip tightening on my hair.

I spat again, a little bit of blood landing on his face. The action made my heart race, a burst of defiance that I couldn't suppress. I couldn’t back down now. "Clever enough to push your buttons, then yes, yes I am," I shot back, smirking through the pain, determined not to let him see me falter.

Perospero’s grip on my hair tightened further, a twisted sneer on his lips as he leaned in even closer. I could feel the heat building inside me, pushing me to fight back. “Face it… you’re all talk, no action. Even you know it, candy man,” I taunted, glaring up at him, trying to hide how much the pain was starting to take its toll.

With a sudden release, Perospero let go of my hair, and my head fell forward momentarily. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment to gather my thoughts. The tension in the air was thick, and I could feel another gun cocked to my head. I turned to see who it was. "Not trying to risk me kicking your asses, huh?" I said, turning back to Perospero with a grin.

“Shut up!” one of Big Mom’s siblings barked, their irritation palpable.

"Ohhh, touchy!" I shot back. "Did I strike a nerve?" I smirked, catching Yonji and Niji laughing in my periphery.

Suddenly, a single rod of blue lightning shot next to me, causing one of the bystanders to lose his grip on the gun. "Aww, look who got scared," I teased, pouting playfully. "How did she conjure lightning?" one of them wondered, their voice tinged with disbelief.

Rolling my eyes, I thought, I know that power anywhere... King must have sent one to give me a heads up. My gaze flicked to the battle happening in front of me. Luffy and King were making their way to Big Mom, holding that damn portrait. Brook was facing Oven, while Pedro, Jinbei, and Bege fought against Katakuri. Okay, so it looks like we still have a chance, I thought, feeling a flicker of hope.

“Hey, Peros, finish them already!” Katakuri yelled, rushing to stop Luffy and King.

“I’m getting to that...” Perospero replied, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “So antsy, my brother is. He wants me to wrap this up lickety-split. He gets antsy because he sees the future, but he’s not the only one who will know what will happen next.” He continued tauntingly, “Since you are all bound with candy, you'll die with tears and all.”

“You bastard...” Judge said, his voice cracking as tears fell from his eyes.

“If we had our Raid suits, then we would be the ones laughing!” he added, frustration evident in his tone.

“Have to say, I was looking forward to seeing my husband over here in his Raid suit,” I chimed in, glancing at Ichiji. “I don’t know, just something about a man in uniform really does it for me.”

“Is that so?” Ichiji replied, a teasing smile creeping onto his face. “I’d be sure to wear it just for you, but only if you promise to keep your claws to yourself.”

Suddenly, I noticed a red hue beginning to glow on my right thigh. Hmmm, about time, I thought, feeling a surge of energy course through me. Perospero continued to taunt Judge, “How sad, you tried to sneak a weapon at your own son’s wedding and got caught.”

“You’re missing something here, Perospero,” I said, smirking. “Even without their Raid suits, they’d still be able to kick your ass.”

“Let’s just kill her already!” yelled another bystander, but before they could make a move, a sharper bolt of blue lightning struck beside him, causing him to drop his gun with a yelp.

“Pull yourself together!” Perospero barked, frustration lacing his tone.

“Aww, is someone afwaid of a wittle wightning?” I taunted, my voice dripping with mock sweetness. I could see the anger boiling beneath Perospero’s surface, and it only fueled my confidence.

The candy bindings continued to weaken, and I felt the surge of energy coursing through my body, a vibrant mix of red and blue crackling at my fingertips.

“Leave now, Reiju and Y/N!” yelled a familiar voice, causing me to turn.

“Sanji…” I whispered, my heart racing.

As Sanji made his way towards us, Daifuku launched an attack, forcing him to dodge. “That jackass, what is he doing anyway, sticking his nose in our mess?” Yonji scoffed, but I could see the tension in his shoulders.

Reiju and I exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between us. We both sent Sanji a small smile, one that carried a weight of unspoken emotions, as if this might be the last time we’d see him.

“Run!” he yelled, determination etched on his face even as he continued to battle Daifuku.

“Look at that, Judge,” Perospero sneered, “he wants to rescue you. How sweet. But sadly, it’s over for you Vinsmokes. And as for you, princess… I’ll be sure to make your death painful.”

 His words hung in the air, but just then, another bolt of blue lightning crackled dangerously close to his scepter, causing him to flinch. “Enough of that!” Perospero barked, gripping my hair once more. “I know you’re behind this!”

“If only you knew…” I shot back, a defiant smirk playing on my lips. “Now, let the lickety fun commence!”

Reiju closed her eyes, preparing for the worst, and I felt a rush of anxiety surge through me. Luffy… where are you? I thought, gritting my teeth in frustration.

Suddenly, Big Mom began to scream, a sound so powerful it felt like it reverberated through the air. They did it! I realized, and everyone at the table dropped their weapons, gritting their teeth against the overwhelming noise. I could feel the tension rising, each second stretching into an eternity.

Then, as abruptly as it began, the scream stopped. I looked up and saw Nami, plugging earplugs into my ears, her smile radiating relief. I returned her smile, grateful for her quick thinking.

Just then, Sanji came crashing down from the sky, using Diable Jambe to break the candy bindings that had held us captive. Relief washed over me as I felt the candy's grip release. Nami handed me my satchel, and without wasting a moment, I reached for my second blade, twisting it in my hands as energy surged through me once more.

I placed the blade on my thigh halter and grabbed Zoro's bandana, tying it securely around my head. Finally, I took my sword, pressing the three gemstones embedded in its hilt. It extended before me, red lightning and flames dancing along its blade, illuminating the chaos around us.

“Ahhh, come to mama,” I said, my voice laced with determination. As I stood up, Nami handed me Ichiji's raid suit, and I quickly handed it to him. Chopper and Carrot began distributing the rest of the raid suits to everyone, ensuring that Niji and Yonji received their headphones, while Reiju, Judge, and Ichiji got earplugs. Nami shot me a quick nod, signaling that it was time to move.

Just as I made my way toward her, Ichiji pulled me toward him, and the closeness—combined with the chaos around us and Sanji standing right there—created a tension that was hard to ignore. He removed his shades, revealing eyes that held more than just darkness, lust, or hunger; there was something deeper that I couldn't quite grasp. And then, before I could react, he kissed me softly, the tenderness of his lips saying what words couldn't: "I'm glad you're okay… or you scared me back there."

I pulled away, breathless, emotions swirling inside me. He pushed a lock of my hair behind my ear, his expression shifting to anger as he eyed the blood on my face. I winced slightly, and he nodded before turning back to face his family, ready for the fight ahead.

Nami, witnessing the whole thing, smirked at me and said, “We definitely are going to talk about this.” Chopper, Carrot, Nami, and I gathered at the edge of the table. “I know you can’t hear me, but we’re leaving the rest up to you guys!” Nami called out, as Carrot charged up with electricity and I readied my sword.

Big Mom continued her piercing scream, and then Bege launched a massive cannon with Gotti and Vito. “Come on!” I thought, my heart racing. Suddenly, Big Mom managed to destroy the launcher with her scream, causing us all to widen our eyes in shock. “Oh my… God,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I knew those launchers weren’t going to be enough.”

“Ahh!” Nami, Carrot, and I screamed in frustration; that was the whole point of our plan! I glanced around to see King next to Luffy, Brook, Pedro, and Jinbei. “Okay, he’s safe,” I reassured myself. Nami gripped my shoulder and Chopper’s shoulder, signaling us that we had to go as Bege and the others began to retreat. We sprinted behind Luffy and the crew when suddenly, Big Mom destroyed the mirror, our escape route.

“Well, this is eventful,” I thought, feeling the panic rising. King turned briefly to ensure I was still behind him. I mouthed to him, “Stay with Strawhat.” He nodded, understanding my silent command. Just then, Bege transformed into a giant castle, his voice booming, “Allies... get your asses in here until we come up with something!”

“SO COOL!” yelled Chopper seeing Bege transform into a castle. “This is no time to be excited!” Nami yelled, her voice cutting through the chaos as we ran. “We can get excited later, Chopper!” I added, my sword still firmly in hand, and Nami's Clima-Tact gripped tightly.

Suddenly, Caesar flew past us, and I landed smack dab in the middle of Big Mom’s cake. “I hate you, Caesar!” I shouted, trying to wipe the frosting off me. Nami struggled to free Chopper from the sticky mess, while I wrestled with Carrot, finally managing to pull her out.

“Come on, come on!” I urged, finally getting Chopper free as we dashed toward the castle gates. “Hey! Get in the castle!” Luffy called out. “Princess, hurry!” King urged. “I would hurry!” Brook yelled, but we were trying!

Before we could reach safety, one of Big Mom’s children blocked our path. “Not so fast!” he sneered. “Cover them! Don’t be slow, Lelo!” commanded Vito. Suddenly, Nami was caught by Smoothie’s grasp. “Oh no, Nami!” I yelled.

“Hold on!” I shouted, clenching my left hand as I leaped toward Nami, preparing to land a tremor kick when something hot seized my leg. “What the…?” I exclaimed, looking down to see Oven’s wicked grin. “I gotcha now!” he taunted.

Flames erupted from my clenched fist, forming a barrier against his heat. I raised my right hand, sword poised, and slashed at his grip, forcing him to falter. But before I knew it, Daifuko caught me, both my hands trapped in his iron grip along with my sword. “Damn it!” I yelled in frustration.

“Princess!” King shouted, but I was too focused to respond. “Stay back!” I commanded, but Luffy was already moving, trying to reach us. “Y/N!” Nami cried out, panic lacing her voice as Luffy faced more of Big Mom’s siblings.

Chopper, in his Kung Fu point, tried to rescue Nami but was also caught by Oven. “It’s hot! Ow! Ow!” he yelled. “Chopper!” I yelled back, my heart racing. “I got you, Chobro!” Carrot shouted, only to be grabbed by Daifuko as well. “Carrot! You okay?” I called, desperately trying to assess the situation as Daifuko began shaking me.

“Quit shaking me!” I yelled, thrashing against him, my legs kicking in protest. “Stupid genie!” I shouted, but he only tightened his grip.

Just then, a massive explosion caught my attention, and standing in the flames were Niji, Yonji, Reiju, Judge, and Ichiji, all wearing their raid suits. My heart raced as I spotted Ichiji, his uniform looking sharp and formidable. “Well, I’ll be damned,” I thought, momentarily distracted.

Suddenly, Perospero launched a wave of candy at them, but Ichiji moved with lightning speed, yelling, “All in face our scientific might... and those who hurt my wife... will kneel!” He landed a swift punch to Perospero, and I felt a blush creep onto my face at his declaration.

Niji managed to kick Oven, freeing Chopper just as Carrot and I were hurled into the air. Yonji struck Daifuko, sending him reeling. “Ahh!” we both yelled, preparing for impact. But before I could hit the ground, Ichiji caught me mid-air, landing gracefully and smirking down at me. “You okay, darling?” he asked, his tone teasing.

I could only nod, still in shock. “I… umm… I…” I stammered, my heart racing.

“Use your words, princess,” he said, grinning.

“Thanks for the catch,” I managed, feeling a rush of gratitude and something deeper.

“Like I said, I vowed to protect you, didn’t I?” he replied with a chuckle, echoing his wedding vows.

Reiju swooped in, saving Nami as she too was flung into the air. “Nami!” I shouted, rushing to where she landed safely in Sanji's arms. “Phew,” I sighed in relief as Chopper, Carrot, and I regrouped, ready to make a break for it.

“You guys okay?” Chopper asked anxiously.

“Luffy!” we all yelled, spotting him leading the charge toward the castle. “Quickly!” Brook urged, and together we dashed toward the castle gates, the thrill of the battle igniting a fierce determination within me. As we entered the castle, I knew we were far from safe.

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Equinox (Falk Maria Schlegel x Fem! Reader) FLUFF

Hello hello! I wanted to write something quick and fluffy just to kind of get back into the swing of writing, so who better to do that with me than my favorite scrungly guy. I will also say, now that seeing him face to face, I write Falk a little differently, so hopefully you enjoy the slight changes I've made to his character. More of a bigger posting update will be coming soon, thank you for reading!!

WARNINGS: None

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link! ~ Tip Jar!

The hallways were abuzz with an unusual rush of energy as you made your way down to the library. You set off to your usual morning tasks: reshelving books, organizing the checkout logs, and doing some light dusting. You stumbled across a group of girls excitedly looking out the windows at the front gates. They call your name when you come into view, one of them jogging over to you, taking your hand, and tugging you in their direction. “I'm surprised you're not down there waiting,” one of them giggles when she notices the confused expression passing over your features, “someone doesn't know what day it is.” She follows up in a sing-song tone.

“What do you mean I don't know what day it is? It's the twenty… first…” Your heart begins to pound in your chest as you state the date out loud. 

“Mhm.” She draws out her hum, giving you a playful smirk. 

“I, um… excuse me, ladies, there's something I forgot to handle.” You respond with a bashful chuckle before slipping away. “I am such an idiot!” you exclaim to yourself. You jog down the hallway. Hopefully, there weren't too many people down at the front gate. You had been waiting for them… for him to come home for weeks.

The Autumnal Equinox was always a bit hectic around The Abbey. Sabbats always tended to get everyone a little too rowdy, and this time would be no different. You heard shouts from the kitchen and orders to make sure all the chefs had enough prep for the special meal The Abbey prepares for the Siblings every holiday. The Great Hall doors were open, and last-minute decorations were meticulously placed around the room. It seems like everyone is putting in their best effort to make the celebration of the Equinox something special.

However, you couldn't have been less concerned with the party if you tried. There had been only one thought in your head about seeing him again for weeks. The members of the High Clergy had been traveling to spread the word of the church for the past couple of months, which shouldn't have affected you and your role in the library. But, it got awfully lonely while they were away. You had your friends around The Abbey, of course, and the rest of the Siblings that resided here were all kind and wonderful people, but something was still missing.

You managed to get to the gates just in time to see them heading up the long stone driveway to The Abbey’s entrance. You wiped your hands down the front of your habit, your palms growing clammy as your eyes landed on Falk, a smile on his face as he talked with Attila. His gaze turns to you, his long strides gradually slowing to a stop as his eyes meet yours. His grin softens, a fond expression settling over his features as he studies the image of you standing before him. He claps Attila on the shoulder before parting from the other man, adjusting the strap of his bag where it had twisted before starting in your direction. He stops a few steps in front of you, both of you memorizing the image of the other all over again as you both struggle to find the right words to say. You can't help but smile slightly as you study his features. You hadn't realized how much you missed getting to see his face every day until right this moment: warm golden brown eyes that captivated you yet put you entirely at ease, the subtle sharpness of his smile that never failed to make your heart race, the slight shadow of stubble that covered the lower half of his face, you missed all of it. “How are you?” He finally speaks, snapping you from your trance-like state.

“Good,” you suck in a deep breath to steady your pulse, “better now that you're home safely.” Falk breathes out a flustered chuckle at your response.

“Well, I had to make it back to my favorite Mäuschen, didn't I?” His hand comes to rest on the top of your head, gently patting your hair. Your heart pounded as you glanced up at him through your lashes. He removes his hand from your head, his fingers gently combing through your hair to push some loose strands behind your ear. His hand grazes over your skin, coming to rest on your cheek.

“Father Falk?” Your voice trembled slightly as you spoke, the words bubbling up in your throat as you struggled to tear your eyes away from his. “I, um…” The warmth of Falk’s hand leaves your cheek at the sudden shout of his name, a group of Siblings barreling out of The Abbey doors now that someone has alerted them that the High Clergy had returned home.

“You, what, Maus?” he asks in a low tone. The intimacy of how he leaned in to speak to you, to ensure you knew that you had his full attention, sent a shiver down your spine.

“I'm just really happy you're home, Father.” You tried to muster your most convincing smile, but Falk saw through whatever façade you attempted to put on. As the crowd approaches, you attempt to slip off, only for Falk to catch your hand in his.

“You can stay, you know.” He remarks, offering you a patient smile.

“I'm afraid I’d probably just get in the way,” you respond with a weak, slightly defeated chuckle. “If you find yourself with a moment to breathe, you know where to find me.”

“Will I see you tonight?” You glance at him curiously. “For the party?” He finishes.

The party had already begun to slip from your thoughts. You opened your mouth to respond, only to be drowned out by the hoard of Siblings who had finally made their way down to where you were standing. Your hand slipped out of his as you took your chance to disappear into the chaos.

You hurriedly made your way back to the library, pressing your back against the cool wood as you allowed the door to slam shut behind you. You sigh, letting your head thud against the barrier. “I missed you.” You finally allow the confession to tumble from your lips once you find yourself alone.

You slide into the chair at your desk, smiling slightly as you see your handwriting on a tented index card. You pick it up, absentmindedly twirling it between your fingers as you allow your eyes to trace along the delicate gold letters etched into the book cover that sat atop the pile of reserved texts you had set aside by request. “Excuse me.” You scream as you're startled from your thoughts, clapping a hand over your mouth as you turn to look at who had approached the desk. Falk stood before you, his shoulders shaking slightly as he struggled to contain the laughter bubbling up in his throat.

“I'm sorry, Father–”

“No, really, I'm sorry; I thought you would have heard me come in.” He chuckles, gliding forward until he’s standing right in front of you. His forearms come to rest on the desk, his crooked smile making your cheeks grow warm as he casually leans in closer to you. “Surely I'm not that scary looking, hm?” He adds with a playful smirk.

“You're not scary at all, you just surprised me, that's all…” you trail off, fidgeting with the edge of one of the book covers as you pull the stack closer to you. “I happen to think you're rather handsome.”

“Is that so?” His grin widens slightly as his gaze scans over your features. “Well, coming from someone as beautiful as you, I'm flattered.” Your heart slammed against your ribs when you finally registered his compliment. His hand was warm as he took yours, thumb slowly running over the valleys of your knuckles. He breathes out a laugh at the difference between his massive paw as it engulfed your delicate fingers. His attention turns to your face; the subtle intensity behind his eyes keeps you firmly in place. “I don't believe I got your answer before we were interrupted earlier.” His expression softens, gently squeezing your hand when he feels your fingers trembling against his palm. “Will I be seeing you tonight?” Your mouth grew dry as you struggled to form any words in response. The question was so simple, yet Falk’s tone was so incredibly intimate as he spoke to you.

“I'll be there.” You finally managed to squeak out.

He lifted your hand slightly; his breath was warm against your skin. “Hopefully, I'll be able to steal you away for a dance then.” His eyes flicker over your features before he brings your knuckles to his lips. “Until then, Schwester.” He wordlessly scoops up the books you had placed on the desk between you, giving you one final lopsided grin before hurrying from the library, leaving you dumbfounded.

You couldn't believe it when you stood in front of your mirror. You were truly no better than a teenage girl getting ready for prom. You glanced at the chaos that had ensued behind you: a mountain of dresses covered your bed, practically every pair of shoes you owned scattered the floor, various piles of tried-on and later discarded jewelry, leaving you still standing in your bathrobe as you agonized over what to wear.

You had just finished putting on your earrings when there was a sudden knock at your door. “One second!” You call in response, grumbling as you trip over your shoes on your way to the door. You freeze as your eyes land on Falk, your gaze darting to the vibrant bouquet he held before returning to his charming, lopsided grin. “Falk?” You can't help the shy smile that slowly spreads across your features. “What's this for?”

“Well, I couldn't show up empty-handed. Now, could I?” He responds vaguely, slipping the bouquet into your hands.

“Well, that all depends on why you're here, doesn't it?” He chuckles at your playful tone.

“I'm here to ask if the beautiful young woman in front of me would do me the honor of accompanying me to the Equinox celebration tonight.” He motions to the gift he had presented to you. “Hence the flowers.” You share a laugh, carefully spinning around the bouquet in your hands to admire the vibrant oranges, golds, and reds.

“You… you want to take me?” Your voice came out soft, barely above the whisper, as if you spoke any louder, you would snap yourself awake from a dream.

“If you'll have me.” He responds with a slight nervousness in his tone. He holds out his hand for you to take, a hopefulness in his eyes as they meet yours.

“I think it might be the other way around.” You reply coyly, your cheeks growing warm as your fingers ghost over his palm.

“Please,” you can't help but giggle as he takes your hand and guides you through a spin. He smiles as he drinks in the sight of you. You're absolutely beautiful,” your breath hitches in your throat as he gently trails his knuckle across your jaw. Walking in there with you on my arm feels almost too good to be true.”

“Let me just grab my shoes, " you said as you began to turn. Feel free to come in, but I'll warn you it's a bit of a mess…” he glanced at you curiously. “I couldn't figure out what to wear.” You both exchanged a laugh.

“Well, I think you look incredible, Mäuschen.” You mumble out a flustered ‘thank you,’ Falk sticking close to your side as you head into your dorm. You set the bouquet in some water, deeply inhaling its sweet scent. “I'm glad you like them.”

“Thank you for bringing them for me; that was very sweet.” He shrugs nonchalantly in response, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Like I said… I couldn't just show up empty-handed.” He takes a few steps forward, allowing him to resume his usual position towering over you. “I honestly wish I had prepared a bit more.” He chuckles.

“Getting to spend the night with you is all I could ever ask for.” You admit softly, your eyes trailing to the floor.

“Well then, my dearest Maus,” he takes your hand, carefully bringing your knuckles to his lips, “why don't you grab your shoes so we can enjoy our evening?” Your heart pounded; you were sure Falk could hear it. You reluctantly separated from him, picking up the pair of heels you had decided on. Falk’s hand was warm as it came to rest on the small of your back. “May I?” He asks, taking hold of your shoes. He drops to one knee, taking your hand in his for a moment to bring it to his shoulder. He carefully moves your dress out of the way to delicately lift your foot. He easily slips your shoe on before resting or on his thigh, fastening the strap around your ankle and asking you if everything felt alright before repeating the process.

“Thank you.” You smile down at him. Electricity danced across your skin, where he lazily ran his thumb across your ankle. He takes your hands in his as he stands.

“Ready?” You nod in response, your grin widening as you watch him slowly trace over the contours of your face. “Beautiful.” He mumbles before breathing out a bashful chuckle. He tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow, “Let’s get going.”

You found yourself leaning into Falk’s side as you walked, hiding your face against his shoulder as you laughed at another one of his dumb jokes. You could hear the party raging up the hallway as glasses clinked together and the excited laughter and shouts of the entire Abbey broke apart the otherwise tranquil autumn evening. When you entered the room, it felt like every pair of eyes had landed on you. Falk squeezes your hand before confidently stepping forward. “Falk!” The crowd's attention quickly diverted as Attila greeted the two of you. He claps Falk on the shoulder, greeting each other jovially in German before turning his attention to you, “Sorry about all the staring.” He chuckles. 

“I thought I had prepared myself for that on the walk over here.” You respond with a laugh of your own.

“Just go have fun, don’t worry about them.” He leans closer to you to whisper, “Falk certainly isn’t.” He jokes. You glance at him over your shoulder, your heart leaping into your throat as you meet with his kind, adoring gaze. Attila straightens up, “I’ll see you both later.” He dismissed himself abruptly, surely trying to see as many people as possible before the night was over.

You turn to face him as Falk softly says your name. “Would you like to dance?” He offers you his hand, waiting patiently for you to accept his invitation. As you set your hand in his, a smile finds its way to your lips.

“I'd love to.” He tugs you in the direction of the dance floor. You can't help but laugh as he sweeps you into his arms, your heart fluttering as your hands rest against his chest. He takes your hand in his, the other settling against the curve of your waist.

“You look nervous, Mäuschen.” You share a playful grin.

“Can you blame me?” You reply softly.

“If anything, I should be the one that's nervous.” Your body instinctively begins to sway with his as he leads you around the floor.

“And why's that?” He carefully leads you through a spin before pulling you back to him.

“I showed up to a party accompanied by the most beautiful woman in The Abbey.” His arm fully encircles your waist, tipping you back towards the floor. “I just hope I don't manage to make myself look like a fool in front of you.” 

Your cheeks grow warm at his compliment, a soft laugh slipping past your lips. “Trust me, you don't have anything to worry about.” Your breath catches in your throat as he shoots you another charming, lopsided grin. His gaze drops to your lips, lingering there momentarily before meeting your eyes again.

You danced with him for hours. The pair of you never seemed to tire as Falk effortlessly spun you around the room. Your nerves quickly slipped from your mind, the jealous stares of other Siblings being entirely lost to the warmth that burned in your chest every time Falk made you laugh. Eventually, you noticed the once-raging crowd beginning to thin as the night started to wind to a close. “Why don't we get out of here?” Your pulse races as Falk whispers the simple question in your ear. You nod, laughing as he takes your hand and hurriedly leads you through the crowd.

Falk sighs loudly as he pushes through the door into the chilly autumn evening. Goosebumps immediately erupt across your bare skin, the oppressive heat of the party inside being sucked away from you in an instant. He turns to you with a soft smile, shrugging out of his jacket to draw it across your shoulders. He cups your cheek, allowing his thumb to stroke over your skin as he studies you languidly. “What?” You ask with a bashful smile.

“You're beautiful, Mäuschen.” He responds with unhesitating tenderness. “I'm sorry if you catch me staring. I just can't help myself sometimes.” He pulls you to him, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You wandered aimlessly around The Abbey’s grounds, just enjoying being in each other’s company. Neither of you wanted your time together to end, finding any excuse you could to lengthen the conversation. You paused at the distant rumble of thunder, jumping slightly when a raindrop splatters across your cheek. Falk grabs your hand, waiting for you to gather up your dress. You groan as you remember you're wearing heels. Falk chuckles, stepping closer to you to scoop you up in his arms. You let out a delighted squeal, your arms latching around his neck as he jogs off with you in his arms. It didn't take long for both of you to be completely soaked through with rain. He sets you down outside the greenhouse, the first unlockable door to shelter you came across. “I'm sorry about your dress.” He apologizes as he feels around the top of the door frame for the key.

“It'll dry.” You reassure him.

“I figured we could dry off here for a little while, wait for the rain to stop.” He explains as he finally slips the key into the lock. “I thought going for a walk would have been romantic.” He chuckles.

“Falk?” His attention turns to you as you softly say his name. “Would you like to dance with me?”

He chuckles as he nods. “I would love to, Maus.” He steps closer to you, “Here, let me help with your shoes. I don't need you getting stuck.” He meticulously helps you out of your heels, struggling to contain the grin that spreads across his face as he watches you step down to your normal height. You can't help but laugh as Falk gives you a low bow, offering you his hand. You gingerly lift your dress as you curtsy in response. Raindrops trailed down your skin; Falk swore you almost seemed to glow under the moonlight. He hums into the silence of the night, both of you moving in perfect synchronicity as you waltz through the wet grass. Falk bows once more as your dance finishes, bringing your knuckles to his lips before lifting you from the ground easily. The inside of the greenhouse was warm, immediately enveloping your whole body in a blanket of humidity as you hurried inside out of the rain. He carefully takes his sleeve, wiping away whatever water he could with his soaked shirt.

“Come here; I know where they keep some towels.” Falk smiles as you take his hand. You shake the handle of the supply closet, giving it a harsh twist before it finally gives way. It wasn't much, a few hand towels tucked beside a rickety old sink every used to wash up after a day of harvesting. You timidly raise your hand, carefully pressing the towel to his cheek to wipe away the ceremonial paint that now ran in dark gray streaks down his neck. Falk freezes under your delicate touch, his hands settling on the curve of your waist as he allows you to clean him up. As you slowly uncover his handsome features, a soft smile finds its way to your face. Falk was struggling to keep his eyes off of you; everything about you was just so perfect. The subtle curve of your lips as you cared for him just about made his heart stop.

“You'll catch a cold if you're stuck in that dress much longer.” He tuts, moving one of his hands to your shoulder. “Your skin feels like ice, Maus.” 

“I'll be alright-”

“There you two are! What the hell do you think you're doing out here in this storm?” It was Roel. The two of you startled apart; you yelped as you tripped on the long skirt of your gown. Falk’s hand shot out in an instant, steadying you, and he pulled you into his chest.

“How did you know we were out here?” Falk asks in a confused tone.

“I was doing a grounds check. Trust me, this wouldn't be the first time I've found someone hooking up out here, and I'm sure it won't be the last.” He chuckles. “But, from the fact you two look like a couple of wet dogs, I'm assuming this wasn't part of your plan.” You could tell from his teasing tone that Father Roel wouldn't let either of you live this down any time soon. The three of you rush back inside The Abbey, Roel giving Falk very clear instructions to ensure you get home safely before parting ways.

“Let's get you into something dry, hm?” He offers you his arm, and you gladly accept it as you lean into his side. Your hand slides into his, giving it a gentle squeeze to try and ease some of the tension that rolled off of him in waves. He seems to snap himself from his thoughts as he turns to glance at you. “I'm sorry I made such a mess of our date, " he suddenly admits with a chuckle.

“I don't think you made a mess of anything. Falk, I'm having a wonderful time with you tonight.” Your steps slowly come to a stop.

“After I got you caught in the rain and probably ruined your nice dress.” He responds incredulously.

“It's just a dress.” You rebuttal. You turn to face him, and despite how hard he tried to hide it you could see the worry laced into his features. Your hand slowly rises from your side, hesitating for a moment before it gently comes to rest against his cheek. Falk’s warm, golden brown eyes find yours. “I wouldn't change anything about how tonight has gone.” Your confession poured past your lips before you could stop it. “While you were away, I can't even begin to describe how much I missed you. Now, you're home. You asked me to one of The Abbey’s most important parties, and I got to spend the entire night wrapped up in your arms… Falk Maria Schlegel, I love being around you. Getting caught in some rain isn't going to change that. There isn't anywhere I would rather have spent my night than by your side.” He barely gave you enough time to finish your sentence before his lips were on yours. The air was instantly knocked from your lungs, your hands fisting into Falk’s shirt in order to keep yourself upright and to pull him as close to you as you could manage. His strong arms wrap around your waist, lifting you from the floor, leaving your toes barely skimming across the stone tile. His shoulders heave as he struggles to catch his breath, his eyes searching yours as you finally separate for air. You slide your hands over his shoulders, realizing he was making no move to set you down. Slowly, a lopsided grin spreads across his lips.

“You missed me, hm?” Your cheeks immediately begin to burn at the statement.

“Shut up.” You manage to respond through a flustered giggle. You let out a pleased hum as he pressed his lips to yours in a few short, sweet kisses. “Take me home.” You command.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, a playful smirk toying at the corners of his lips. “Yes, ma'am.” He sets you down for a moment to readjust his hold on you, his arm sliding behind your knees as he pulls you back into his chest. Swaying you with every step, Falk carried you back to his quarters so you could enjoy the rest of your evening alone.

Tag List: @spookyghostjelly @belnovacaine @obsessed-and-possessed @crexpy34 @eentheekipekke @iamsarahsaysso

[unabashegirl]

Crave pt 4 — sneak peek

Harry Styles is a mysterious, well-respected professor, known for his intellect and intensity. Y/N is his student, ambitious but with a hidden side. She’s confident, though a bit reckless. 

Authors note: Hey everyone! I wanted to take a moment to thank you all for your incredible support. I’m currently 164 subscribers away from being able to cover my medical school tuition, which is a huge milestone for me. I’m not sharing this because I’m asking anyone to contribute more, but rather to see if you could help spread the word by reposting. Sharing my posts and helping me reach new people would make a world of difference, and I’d be so grateful for your help. Thanks again for everything!

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all the parts (+3K words), early access to the the 5th part and much more :) thank you beforehand!

--> the following is only fully available on Patreon <---

Their breaths mingled, hot and unsteady, as they remained locked in place, staring at each other, caught in the aftermath of the kiss that had shattered every unspoken rule. Harry’s hand was still at her jaw, his fingers grazing her skin, while Y/N’s hands remained tangled in the fabric of his shirt, holding him as if letting go would break whatever spell had brought them here.

The pause was delicate, a chance to pull back, but neither of them moved. Instead, Harry’s gaze dipped lower, tracing the curve of her neck, the soft line of her collarbone. There was something in her eyes that made it impossible for him to look away, a spark that matched the one igniting inside him. He knew he should stop, that he should step away before this went further, before they crossed the line entirely. But her skin was so warm beneath his touch, her scent intoxicating, filling his senses with a quiet, inescapable lure.

Y/N’s fingers tightened in his shirt, her chest brushing against his, pulling him back to the present, grounding him in the reality of the moment. Her lips were still parted, her breath shallow as she looked up at him, waiting, daring him to make the next move.

Harry swallowed, his voice hushed and rough. “Y/N… I don’t think I can…”

But she cut him off, her hands reaching up to cup his face, her thumb brushing lightly across his cheek as she pulled him down to her again, sealing his words with another kiss. This time, it was different—deeper, more desperate, as though the floodgates had finally broken. Every restraint he’d held onto slipped through his fingers as she pressed against him, her body fitting against his like it was meant to be there, igniting a fire that neither of them could ignore.

They stumbled backward, barely making it to the edge of the desk, his hands gripping her waist, fingers pressing into her as though afraid she’d disappear. He could feel her heartbeat through his fingertips, her warmth against him, and it felt like nothing else mattered, nothing else existed beyond this moment.

Y/N’s hands found his shoulders, slipping beneath the collar of his shirt, her touch sending a shiver down his spine. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, trailing soft, lingering kisses along her skin, savoring the way she gasped, the way her hands tightened in his hair as he pulled her closer, letting the pent-up tension between them unravel into something real, something uncontainable.

Y/N's fingers tangled in Harry's dark curls as their kiss deepened. His muscular arms encircled her waist, pulling her flush against his body.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Y/N murmured against his lips, even as she pressed closer.

"Do you want me to stop?" Harry's voice was low and husky. His piercing gaze searched her face.

Y/N hesitated, desire warring with her sense of propriety. "No," she admitted softly.

With a groan, Harry lifted her onto his desk, scattering papers to the floor. His lips traced a scorching path down her neck as his hands roamed her body.

Y/N gasped as Harry's fingers deftly unbuttoned her blouse. "What if someone hears us?"

"My office hours are over," he assured her, trailing kisses along her collarbone. "No one will disturb us."

She arched into his touch, thoughts of consequences fading as passion consumed her. Their remaining clothes were quickly discarded.

Harry's hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and contour with reverent intensity. Y/N arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips as his fingers trailed fire across her skin. The air around them crackled with electricity, charged with the pent-up desire that had finally found its release.

Harry reveled in the sensation of Y/N's soft skin against his, his hands exploring her. The scent of her perfume, a delicate mix of jasmine and vanilla, filled his senses, intoxicating him further. He trailed kisses along her neck, savoring the taste of her skin and the way she shivered under his touch.

The desk creaked under their combined weight as they fell into the intensity of fevered passion. Y/N moaned his name, her inhibitions melting away like snow under the noonday sun...

check out my patreon (subscriptions start at $2) and get full access to the first part (+3K words), early access to the second part and much more :) thank you beforehand!

[ladyluscinia]

I'm already so sick of how the fallout of ofmd season 2 has snowballed into people on here going "fandom these days just can't handle Bad Things happening in media-- newsflash, characters have to get hurt and die, grow up!" all condescending like. First of all, in the context of Izzy, most people I've seen discuss his death agree that they would've accepted and enjoyed his death if it had just been handled appropriately, and also. "You just can't handle bad things happening to your fave!" Bruh. We were all partying it up when Izzy lost his fucking leg and was suffering physically and mentally. It can be FUN to see your blorbo suffer!

And that is just one example of a larger trend on this site-- people are really gonna come onto the "we love putting our blorbos in the blender and watching them struggle and suffer" site and say "kids these days can't handle Bad Things happening to their blorbos." Sorry, but that's just nonsense. Fandom loves their fix-its, but they also love shattering their faves. The problem has never been Bad Things happening in general, but HOW those things are framed within the narrative and how that narrative is told. The problem is when something is out of place in its genre, or when it goes against a promise the show has made, or when suffering is used flippantly and uncaringly, or when a character suffers and suffers and then just when they've finally caught a break, they're kicked down again, just for a cheap tug at your heartstrings.

Both within the context of ofmd AND in a wider fandom context, fandoms LOVE when our blorbos are hurt, as long as our blorbos are hurt RIGHT.

... And I think it sure is Something that a fandom can have a rampant issue with fans of a character being harassed and sent death threats and that's just "normal fandom being fandom" but god forbid people feel Emotions. About a Character and a Show. And dare to react by... just Offering Criticism! No, death threats are "fandom culture that comes with the territory," but if you vent post or criticize a writing decision in media, THAT'S being "hysterical" and "overly emotional" and "truly frightening behavior!" I just LOVE (big sarcasm) how back when people were getting doxxed and threatened for liking a guy, the fandom was all *cricket noises,* but NOW suddenly everyone is "terrified and exhausted by fandom's volatility" and "concerned about the fragile mental health of fans" when you simply say "damn that episode sucked and I sure am sad about it."

The OFMD fandom was toxic as fuck for a year and a half and continued to be toxic as fuck for all the airing of S2, so hardly surprising that the aftermath of S2 appears to be... toxic as fuck.

Least surprising thing in the world is that the people who hated Izzy and passively or actively supported driving his fans out of the fandom for "ruining it for everyone else" now think his fans should leave the fandom if they are so upset and stop leveraging "baseless criticism" at the show that is "ruining it for everyone else." They have normal not-at-all-parasocial relationships leading them to directly @ David Jenkins and thank him for a season that somehow managed to be both flawless and have all its flaws blamed on MAX, but those wretched Izzy stans have horrible-evil-parasocial relationships making them harass the crew by *footage not found*

If Mr. Jenkins decides to go scroll the #ofmd s2 tag on tumblr and stumbles across me - a random blog and icon - outlining how I think he fucked his show up, that's pretty clearly on him? This is tumblr. I have no relationship with this man or obligation to tailor every word I say as if he's bound to see it and going to take it personally???

I'm actually a big proponent of "Don't @ the cast and crew about pretty much anything" because the same fandom mentality that makes you think you can randomly ask him about your headcanon like you're chatting is what all these people are melting down about if someone directly goes "hey you killed my favorite character and that makes me mad!" - same fucking people, same fucking parasocial relationship. The standard of "only @ them for good things" is the flimsiest fucking line, as any ao3 writer who has received unsolicited "constructive criticism" or "advice" can tell you.

If we want to snidely get into "what this is really about" well it's the same fucking thing it was before:

People substituting subjective opinion as objective fact with zero self-awareness of doing so. "I liked this so it's good." "I didn't like this so it's bad." "I got bad vibes from that character so he was clearly written to be horrendous and unlikable." "I sympathized with this character so anyone suggesting he has flaws is demonizing him."

Or the deepest circle of fandom hell: "I think [insert identity] rep is so important and this piece of media fits into however I personally define 'good rep', therefore it is flawless and/or morally significant enough to be above criticism."

...which, yeah, leads to temper tantrum levels of fandom infighting, especially since people online express, fairly frequently, "I didn't like it because it was bad" and then present evidence for their point. And also a lot of fandom likes bad TV. Or even just mediocre TV that's entertaining.

I personally was not going to be happy about any person beyond one-offs, blatant villains, and background randoms dying because "they had to" (for their own arc or someone else's) because I fundamentally think if you believe you've written yourself into that corner in a workplace comedy that's built around a main romance arc... you're kinda stupid. Yes, even if it's pirate themed. Enough injuries have been walked off and lampshaded to confirm that part is aesthetic.

The fandom wiki for The Office lists 11 deceased characters. Three of them are fictional characters who die in an action-movie episode. Two are one-offs that get named dropped seasons later as having died offscreen. One of them is an offscreen cat, who appears to have had a more significant death plotwise and emotionally than any of the humans, and another is a woman who literally exists as a picture someone makes up a personality for and then discovers the real woman died. The most significant character on the list is a temp boss that got a four episode story arc about being a useless idiot who died in the hospital after a basketball dunking accident.

That is a show that ran for 9 seasons and over 200 episodes. It's pretty universally regarded as good, and the cringe asshole boss getting genuinely moving emotional beats is a big part of that. I think we can maybe pretty confidently say that reflecting the random realities of death is not essential to every story.

If OFMD wants to be evaluated as a hard-hitting drama or a queer story about the struggle of piracy against the Evil Empire, I will compare it to Black Sails instead of The Office. I just don't think David Jenkins is going to enjoy that comparison.

I'm not going to lower my standards because [insert rep reason the show must absolutely be a wild success here].

[nevernonline]

✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #09 seeing red.

synopsis: over the past ten years you’ve fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it’s clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt, (g)-idle minnie&soyeon, oc’s

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex’s, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

word count: 2.7k

masterlist ▸ 008 not the bath mat.  ▸ 010 coming soon

“You okay?”

Seokmin’s voice rang through y/n’s ears as she drove her car away from of Vernon’s white apartment building. 

“Yeah, I think so. I’m just nervous for some reason like I can’t put into words why, but my gut is telling me something is weird.” 

“Gut instincts are rarely ever wrong, but I’ll be by your side until you tell me you don’t need me to be. Okay?” 

Pulling up into the parking lot of the glass framed building just on the edge of the city overlooking the water, y/n felt her nervous sweating start to begin, almost begging for air conditioning to surround her like a chilled hug. 

“Want to hold my hand?” 

“Yes please, they’re clammy I’m sorry.” 

Gripping onto Vernon’s firm hand the three boys almost looking like her bodyguards bypassed the frenzy of people outside waiting to get their own peak at Minghaos installation themselves and walked through the door. 

The room was filled with small tables, made by hand as a final touch to Minghaos work, adorned with dainty black table clothes and bottles of champagne placed in ice buckets. 

The room was softly lit with yellow and white lighting making everyone have a glow that bounced off of them almost as if they weren’t real. 

“Would you guys like a drink? We have champagne and two signature cocktails, one is a gin based drink called ‘delicate’ and the other is a whiskey ginger based drink called ‘storm cloud.” 

The beautiful waitress signaled at y/n’s small group and pointed out the drinks on the table. 

“I think two storm clouds and one delicate one for sure. Y/n? What would you like?” 

You spun to look into Junhui’s big eyes, skating your head saying anything is alright with you so he made the conclusion to just order you the same as Seokmin to be safe. 

“Thank you.” 

Y/N placed a tip in the small bartenders jar and bid her a smile knowing she’ll be back for more later in the night 

“Should we look around now and try to find Minghao? Or wait a bit?” 

“Seok lets just wait here, it doesn’t seem like anyone is looking around yet, I'm trying to spy for Minnie and Mingyu.” 

“And Mimi.” 

“Yeah. Her too.” 

“Guys, Vernon and I are going to go find Vernon’s friend Seungkwan. We'll be back in a second.” 

“No problem.” 

Y/n and Seokmin waved the cute couple off into the crowd. 

“So y/n.” 

“Seoky.” 

“How are we feeling now? What was going on in the car?” 

“I don’t know. I told you I’m alright.” 

“Yeah but you don’t have to lie to me about that.”

“I promise you I would never lie to you, we basically took an unintentional blood oath as kids it stays” 

“Okay. I love you, you know that right? But I rarely see you nervous like this so I can’t help but feel concerned.”

“Shut up. Yes I do and I love you too. I promise im alright.”

Averting her gaze back to the front door she watched as Minnie and Mingyu walked hand and hand, strutting past a very devious looking Mimi standing to the right, chit chatting with someone who was unrecognizable to y/n. 

“They look good together.” 

“Yeah, they do.” 

“Do you think this fake dating is going to lead to them.. you know.” 

“Well. If I can be honest with you y/n which I'm sure I can, I think it already has.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Are you alright with that?” 

“I am actually. Any other time it would’ve killed me I think, but now.. I don’t know? I’m content. They make sense.” 

“You shine too bright to have someone who shades you.” 

“What does that even mean?” 

“I don’t know actually, I think im drunk already.” 

Y/n placed a small kiss on Seokmin’s temple laughing at his flushed cheeks before a familiar yet irritating voice cut through their ears. 

“Y/n, Seokmin. Hi! You both look absolutely gorgeous. Mind if I sit?” 

“Hi, Mimi. Sure.” 

“How are you guys? This is so beautiful and we haven’t even seen his art yet, how crazy. He’s so talented.” 

“Yeah it’s nice. You look great, I love your bag.” 

“Thank you. You look nice. I see you didn’t go with the outfit you picked out the other day.” 

“Hao told us to come in black so it just didn’t feel right.”

“Mimi, can I ask you how you know Minghao again?” 

“Oh wow, well it’s a long story. We met a few years ago, I haven’t seen him in a while actually.” 

“Ah, I see. Did you go to school together or?” 

“Wow Seokmin, someone’s nosey.” 

“Oh, sorry no, not nosy just curious is all. I didn’t know you knew him.” 

“It’s okay. Our parents actually work together.” 

“Nice.” 

“Do you know if he arrived yet? I’m sure he’d love to see you in this gorgeous outfit. Leaving everything to the imagination, he likes conservative girls.” 

“No we haven’t seen him, we're just waiting for Junhui actually.” 

“Aw, cutie. His boyfriend seems so nice, I stalked them online today. Dumb and dumber vibes, you know? I’m more curious though did you see Minnie and Mingyu? How trashy getting with your friends hook up? Maybe she truly has it out for you. You’re too pretty to never be the one to end up with the guy. But actually you should just date Seokmin, everyone knows how much you guys love each other, it could work out well.”

“Oh I-

“Well, I have to get going and find my way to the girls room. I’ll see you later. Toodles.” 

“Toodles” 

Seokmin’s voice gained a depth that you haven't heard since someone pushed him in the fountain at your high school during senior prank week. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

“Fucking weird is what that was.” 

Seokmin’s tone turned quickly into a quiet mocking of Mimi’s.

“Dumb and Dumber vibes.”

The two of them laughed as they shrugged off the interesting encounter with a former foe.

A bartender came over to the pair and handed them both a flute of champagne, as the rest of the patrons erupted into a roar when Minghao made his way into the building, Wonwoo walking beside him, smiling at his friend who was receiving praise from his acquaintances, hugging and high fiving him for his success, some chanting for him to make a speech.

Minghao walked straight past Mimi who was stealthily placed behind a tall gentleman the star of the night was not paying any attention to her whatsoever, almost like she was invisible. He strode over to the small table where y/n and Seokmin were awkwardly standing clutching the glass flutes, wrapping his arms around the both of them at the same time. 

“You guys look.. amazing, thank you for coming.” 

Minghao took a deep breath and looked up and down at the girl he had his arm around. 

“Seriously. Thank you.” 

“Our pleasure.” 

“I’ll be back after I say some thank yous, maybe we can all walk through together okay?” 

“Cool.” 

The intimate crowd surrounded Minghao and Wonwoo handed him the matching glass of sparkling wine and he held it up as a small cheers. 

Y/n peaked through the crowd and spotted Minnie and Mingyu to her right, still looking as loving as ever, Vernon and Jun to her left with an unrecognizable boy, who threw a small wave in her direction that she could only pass off as Seungkwan the only one she couldn’t place was Mimi.

“Hey guys. I just wanted to say thank you for coming tonight to the opening of my show. It’s been about a two year process to finally get through to this night. Many of you have been around much longer than that, so thank you for supporting me even when I was up late at night calling you upset about how it wasn’t going to work out. Vernon, Wonwoo, Seungkwan, and Mingyu, you guys truly were the only reason I didn’t jump ship many times from achieving this goal. It’s nice to see old faces like yours mixed into a group of new friends. So thank you, everyone, really. We’re going to take a peek through the gallery now, feel free to bring your drinks and grab some more along the way. And yeah, just enjoy yourselves. Thank you.” 

The clapping dwindled down as the group followed Minghao through the journey he went through over the past two years starting from just a week ago up until the beginning. 

Y/N stopped Seokmin to look at a very small white canvas decorated with various pastel water color paints mixed with an oil that looked almost the color of fresh blood. 

“Do you know when I did that?” 

“This?” 

Minghaos voice spoke up behind them quietly, not wanting the room to echo as the group was admiring the work during their part one journey. Seokmin smiled down at his female friend and decided to take the opportunity to wander off on his own like any good wingman would do. 

“Yeah.” 

“Uh, no. Is this a trick question?” 

“No it’s not, but it was that night I found you on your floor, looking at those pictures of you and your friends.” 

“I- You got inspired by that? How?” 

“Not sure I have time to explain it right now, but look at the title.” 

‘About you’ was written on the plaque to the right side of the artwork. 

“Wow. Thank you.” 

“No thank you, I couldn’t have finished any of this without you actually.” 

The art curator swooped Minghao away from your side moving the group into the second room, where the energy was colder, the lighting was turned down slightly, causing the fading colors the feel cold and dark and full of sadness especially coming from the front of the house that was bright and full of life. 

y/n was on her own now, sitting near the back of the group losing her sight of all her comfort blankets that were her friends. 

She spotted the red lip of Mimi directly across the room, also slipping to the back, trying to blend into the crowd as she looked around. 

After spending a good ten minutes looking around the group was led through a vinyl curtain into a room full of dark red lights, the canvases on the wall now sunk to the floor of the room and scattered themselves alongside ripped and tattered papers on the concrete floors.

Something in y/n’s stomach had told her she should leave now, the growing anxiety of the light and coldness of the room, with near to no talking as the faint look of paint splatter sunk into her eyes on the walls almost like old blood. 

She tried to turn around and make her exit through the same vinyl door when a hand came up to her wrist. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

“Oh, Mimi hi, shit you scared me. I actually don’t feel well. I was going to dip out for a second.” 

“Aw, come on y/n you can’t leave Minghao now. Not before the big finale.” 

“Right..” 

“Be right back, I’ll find Seokmin for you.” 

“Thank you.” 

All of the sudden as Mimi walked away a projector screen hit the wall, various old videos shot on a cam recorder. 

Y/n had recognized the faint pink colored walls, her own childhood room.

“Let’s go fucking crazy.”

The words came from lips that were set behind the camera only y/n knowing it was the sound of Mimi’s voice as she was being filmed sitting on the bed of her old room, a bottle of cheap vodka in her hands. 

“Okay, y/n I want you to see how pretty you are. We can send this to Joshua as a birthday gift. Should I turn the lights off more?” 

She watched herself as she nodded awkwardly giggling on top of the zebra sheets, her hands pushing the red bottle of liquor to her lips, dribbling the liquid down her chin, the sight of tears welling up in her round eyes.

“Y/nnie don’t be sad, nobody will ever find out we accidentally hurt anyone, okay? My dad said she’ll be okay, just a broken leg. Just let loose.” 

The lights flickered off the screen straight into her soul pushing down the memories of Mimi stealing her dads car while intoxicated to go and buy more alcohol before this very moment played out. 

Suddenly she saw red. All of this had been a set up to embarrass her. Another nail in her coffin. 

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched Mimi turn the people in the room to sit and stare at her face.  Watching the scene play on as Mimi told a very naive twenty year old girl to strip herself of her own clothes to impress the boy she liked and forget about the worst day of her life. 

The people in the room sized her up and down, some turning back to the screen, others reading a small handout that was stuffed into a map of the museum while giggling at the journal entries she wrote about her once crush and the man she had fallen for now before she even made the connection of who he was to her all of those years ago.

Y/n’s legs felt like jello, yet something in her built up the strength to bolt through the vinyl curtain, her heels echoing through the white walls like bullets hitting a glass window. 

She heard a voice cutting through the sound of her heels behind her calling out, but she decided she couldn’t stop to turn around and face anyone. It was a secret that couldn’t be shared, something that Mimi used as a final dagger to cut everyone out of her life the same way she cut the girl out of her own. 

As she reached the fresh air of the front doors, the same cute bartender was sitting out on the curb smoking a cigarette looking concerned for y/n’s well being. 

“Are you alright?” 

“No.” 

“Want a cigarette?” 

“A ride maybe? If it’s not too much to ask. I dropped my phone somewhere, I have cash I can pay you. I just need to get out of here now.” 

“I don’t need your money, it’s okay. Let me help you get a cab okay?” 

“Thank you, really. What’s your name?” 

“Rena. Yours?” 

“Y/n” 

Rena walked quickly with y/n to the outside cab pickup on the corner of the art museum, quickly hailing you a cab and shutting you tightly inside, leaving you with the last four cigarettes stuffed inside her metal case. As you drove off with a wink from her, meaning she had a feeling she’d see you again. 

“55 Miles Avenue, please” 

The driver sped through the night lights avoiding cars like it was a game. Pulling up outside the familiar front of Joshua’s building. 

Basically throwing money at him and whispering a quick thank you, y/n ran her way up to his elevator, finally reaching his floor, and knocking heavily on the door. 

In the few seconds he took to come unlock his apartment to her, she realized how desperate and deschevled she must look. 

“Y/n? It’s still early, are you okay?” 

“No.” 

“Come in, come in.” 

Her tears suddenly grew stronger, sinking down to his wooden floor, feeling his hands grab her shoulders and sink down with her. 

“What happened?” 

Words couldn’t form in her mouth correctly, she managed to spill a couple of sentences that made a way to fill him in. 

“Fuck. Y/n come on, let’s get you a shower and some fresh clothes.” 

Joshua’s arms picked the girl off the floor and led her into his black marble bathroom, which suddenly felt like an oasis to her. 

The water ran hot, scorching her body of the sins and embarrassment she had just gone through, spending more time scrubbing away at her skin and hair, feeling like it would help if she rubbed her skin nearly raw. 

Stepping out of the shower she grabbed the gray hoodie and soft sweatpants Joshua had laid out for her, taking her time to step into her clothes and walk out into her reality. 

“I ordered you some food. Come on.” 

As she finished eating in her daze, the boy to her left carefully rolled the thin paper over the green flower and lit the end, handing her a relief from her stress. 

“Thank you.” 

“Want to talk about it?” 

“Not right now.” 

“Okay. But im sorry I made you befriend her again, I should’ve known better y/n. I really thought she had changed.”

“Stop. Please, I really don’t want to talk about her right now.”

“Okay, just one last thing. Why do you think she did it?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

“But do you think Minghao had something to do with it I mean she basically ruined his whole night just for her own revenge. Seems weird that he-“

“Josh.”

“Okay. okay.”

Joshua and y/n sat in the haze of their shared joint, not talking until she finally had enough of a high to fall asleep next to him on the couch and chose to deal with her problems the next day. 

bonus:

note/s: part one of y/n’s wild ride fr. i feel like yall all know we can trust seok/bernon/wonu/junhui for sure 😌✊🏻 but for everyone else the jury (me) is still out lmao. IK MY ASS USED THE WRONG YOUR ok thank u lets just chalk it up to seokmin being drunk and silly lmao <3 i kept telling myself this is too rushed but i also didn’t want to overwhelm and put more of the drama here so lol. def prob typos etc etc bc i was editing at night which i def shouldn’t do anymore lmao. ok ttyl ily.

tag list:  @sun-daddy-yoriichi,@hipsdofangirl@kissesfrmwonwoo, @minhui896, @wonwooz1, porridgesblog,,  jasssy051, @soonyoungblr, @saucegirlreads, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @young-adult-summer, @punkhazardlaw, @bibs-world@the-swageyama-tobiyolo@wonuulvr@woozixo @k-drama-adict