#i just miss the relationship they had it was so sweet

[milla-frenchy]

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3k7 | Marcus Acacius x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist

Summary: Acacius returns from Numidia several months after his departure, and comes back to his wife

Warnings: 18+ mdni. fluff, smut, established relationship, Acacius and reader are married and deeply in love, Acacius is devoted to his wife (he’s soft, protective, caring and slightly possessive), oral (m/f), oil massages, size kink, piv, creampie. No age specified

a/n:  this fic is just soft and sweet and I hope it will bring comfort to those who need it. This is my love letter to Acacius, basically, after watching Gladiator 2 (no spoilers towards the movie). I love this character so much. I did some research but I'm not an expert on ancient Rome at all.

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for always holding my hand and for beta-ing, @joelmillerisapunk for cheering me up, @iamasaddie for being a sunshine- 🫶💓 dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

You felt his presence before he even spoke. 

You knew he was here, because all your worries, all the tension in your body, dissipated instantly. All the weight accumulated during those last months was removed from your shoulders, allowing your body to relax and open up.

"My lady..," you heard. 

You stood up and faced him, turning away from the fish pond. You murmured his name then hurried towards him to snuggle against his broad, protective chest, where nothing bad could reach you. His arms surrounded you, as his lips kissed your forehead and your hands slid along his waist to his back. The warmth radiated from him, warming your entire being, body and soul.

"You are here, my love," you whispered, feeling tears well up in your eyes. You had been holding them back for so long. Too long. Because you didn't want to seem weak, and because you didn't want to let your brain swallow you up in its darkness.

But now Acacius was here, and you could allow your fragility to consume you for a moment,  to be your true self, letting your emotions overwhelm you. Because you knew that he would want to absorb them for you, to protect you. To be your man.

"I'm finally here. I missed you, you have no idea. You were always in my thoughts, my beloved.”

You hugged each other tighter, and you buried your face in his chest, rubbing against him, like a cat that marks its territory with its scent. 

"I missed you too, Acacius," you replied, finally raising your face to his, staring into those soft brown eyes that you missed so much. The eyes of your husband who had returned from Numidia. Returned victorious, as always, but the worry never left you when he was gone. The intrusive thoughts that made you fear that he wouldn’t come back to you, that he had perished. Or worse, taken prisoner. The highest representative of the Roman Empire on the battlefield, the general of Rome, gods only knew what they would do to him.

Caressing his cheek with your thumb, you chased away those dark thoughts to let yourself enjoy the present. Your husband, your love was there. You brushed his wrinkles, as you took the time to admire his slightly grayer curls, before running your fingers through them.

"You are even more beautiful than when I left," he said in a low, calm voice. You smiled when you heard him, moved by his love for you that was radiating from him. Love that had never wavered during your marriage. He always came back to you, as soon as he had dealt with the burdens placed upon him by the emperors he hated.

"Let me feed you, my love," you said. "And bathe you."

You walked toward the caldarium, his arm around your shoulder, yours around his waist, your body pressed against his. You were holding each other close as you were walking, it had been so long since he left for Africa nova.

“I cleaned myself before I went to the coliseum. You don’t have to, you know?”

“I know. But I love to do it, even if it’s only symbolic.”

He smiled warmly and saw you melt under his stare, then pressed a kiss on your temple to forget the fast beating of his own heart.

You undressed him slowly, layer by layer. Taking the time to place your hands on his chest before you would remove the last fabric, to feel his torso rise under your fingers. To process the fact that he was really back with you. He watched you roam his chest, shoulders, arms along his body, face lowered towards you. Smiling, patient. Soothed. 

Once you managed to stop staring at his skin, his muscles, the way his body reacted to your touch, you tilted your head up to meet his eyes. You both smiled, happy and relieved to finally find each other again. You always marveled at his softness, that side of him only you knew. 

Your fingers ran along his skin, and you frowned at each new wound you felt under your digits.

“You have so many new scars,” you said with a trembling voice. “I thank the gods for bringing you back to me.” 

“Thank the soldiers, my love, they kept me alive,” he replied, brushing your cheek with his thumb. He had great respect for his men, treated them well, and had their complete trust. Tears appeared in your eyes again, and he gently took your chin between his fingers to lift your face up to him.

“I’m here now,” he said, his voice still low and calm. He knew you needed to be reassured, that meeting again always made his next departures more difficult, for both of you. He knew you were already anticipating them.

“I know,” you stammered. “I know. I just missed you a lot.�� You tried to push aside the worries that were already trying to infiltrate your mind.

“I know, and I’m sorry about that, I wish I never had to leave. But I have great news: I won't have to go for now. I told the emperors that I wanted to rest and spend time with my wife. Darius will lead the next battle, he's ready.”

“This is such great news, Acacius!” you said, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and nestling your face in his neck. “I'm so relieved.”

He held you against him, before cupping your cheeks in his hands and resting his forehead against yours.

You moved slightly aside to pull off the last layer of clothing, freeing his half-hard cock. You thought about it so often when he was away as your fingers were buried inside you.

You covered him in oil and massaged his shoulders to relieve his physical tension. Then his chest, arms, palms and belly, taking your time. Gently, your fingers worked his skin, finding their favorite spots and his. Lingering there.

Finally, you faced him and took his shaft in hand, before jerking him off gently under the pretext of applying the oil, but you both felt the need grow.

You then asked him to sit in the warm water, and got undressed. The expression in his eyes changed from softness to eagerness and desire while he was watching you. 

Fully hard, he stood up when you approached the bath, holding out his hand to accompany you down the steps.

“Sit on me,” he murmured in your ear, his beard brushing your skin. You straddled him, placing your hands on his cheeks before playing with his curls. You leaned down and finally kissed him, tasting his warm, soft, luscious lips. You both moaned and it made you smile, as you felt yourself mesmerized by him being finally there, with you. 

He caressed your lips with his tongue, then slid it between them. Your tongues found each other, for the first time in months, and you felt dizzy, savoring him again. His hands roamed your back, squeezed your skin sometimes, while your kiss was only growing more feral and needy. Unable to wait any longer, you grabbed his cock and nestled it at your entrance, making him growl from the depth of his chest.

“Slowly,” he stammered. “No foreplay… don’t hurt yourself.”

“Can’t promise it,” you smiled. It was almost a lie, both of you knew it, you couldn’t take him slowly, your need to feel him being too strong. You sank onto his shaft with your arms resting on his broad shoulders, and you had to bite him slightly when the fat head of his cock began spreading you wide open, until you welcomed him fully, leaving both of you breathless for a second.

“That wasn’t exactly slow,” he laughed once he caught his breath, his hand against the back of your neck as you peppered his collarbone with kisses, your cunt full of him.

“Couldn’t wait,” you breathed and kept kissing him, slowly moving up and down his shaft, mixing your moans with his, your forehead against his. Your breaths mingled, similar in their urgency.

“I missed you. I missed you,” you repeated, while one of his hands was caressing your back, the other resting on your hip to accompany your movements, but sometimes pushing you slightly more down his cock.

“Me too, my love. Finally feeling you like that, wrapped around my cock, is almost unreal after all that time. But I won’t last, I’m sorry,” he said in a breathless voice. “It’s been too long since I felt the warmth of your cunt. Only my hand could give me a release when thoughts about you invaded my mind.”

“Now I’m here. Use me. Come,” you added, rubbing yourself against his lower stomach, knowing you would come soon too.

He held you tight in his arms, setting his pace, fast, powerful, to the point that the water overflowed from the bath with every move. He chased his orgasm, growling in your ear, his body surrounding yours, and you let him use you willingly until his grunts turned into moans and he froze, coming inside you. You pulsed on his shaft just after, milking his cock, feeling him shudder inside you.

You let him catch his breath and his wits before facing him, your hands on his cheeks, and covered his lips, cheeks, forehead with kisses. Already thinking about the moment you would go to your bedroom, and finally take the time to rediscover each other.

Washed, you had dinner, and you told him what happened during his absence. Life in Rome, the dream of Marcus Aurelius long forgotten. The emperors were hated by the subjects, and the cruel games were still allowed.

His worry was growing as he was listening to you. Each time he left, he was afraid a revolt would take place and he wouldn’t be there to protect you. 

He asked you the question that had been burning his lips since his return, but that he was holding back, afraid of your answer.

“Did… did anyone hurt you while I was away?” he asked, eyes lowered to the ground, your hands in his. Then finally forcing himself to look at you and hear your answer.

“No, Acacius,” you answered quickly, eager to remove that weight from his shoulders and his heart. “Nothing happened to me, don’t worry.” You knew that he would lose his mind if someone hurt you, just like those who had hurt you would lose their heads. 

He kissed your hands when he heard you, keeping them between his, brushing them with his thumbs.

“I couldn't stand it if that happened,” he added, voice shaking.

“I know, my love. But the guards protect me. The ones you chose, and trust completely. I am safe.”

He nodded, even though both of you knew he would never be calm during his absences.

Once fed, he told you about the new conquests. You felt the weariness on his shoulders and in his eyes. His anger. The emperors were making him lose patience, every day a little more.

“Enough about this,” he said finally. “I don't want my return to be full of sadness and bitterness. I saw how tense your body is, I will help you relax with some oil, like you did to me.”

“Acacius… you need to rest after these last few months. Not to take care of me,” you replied softly.

“I am your husband,” he said gently but firmly, moving closer to you until he took your hand in his and kissed it. “Your man. There’s nothing else that I want to do more.” You looked at him and smiled.

Once in the bedroom, he asked you to undress and lie down naked on your stomach. He poured some oil in his hands, and rubbed them together. He didn't take his eyes off you until you were on the bed. "You're so beautiful," he said. “I’m gonna take care of you. I missed it.”

He started by massaging your neck, with perfect pressure. Hands flat, he pressed his thumbs against each tense spot, helping to release the tension step by step. You felt your muscles relax at his touch, from your neck to your shoulders. Once satisfied with the way your body responded to his movements, he coated his hands with oil again, then he took care of your lower back. Your pelvis had been stuck for weeks, and you knew that he would do wonders, as always. That the next day, when you woke up, it would be free of its tensions.

“Do you feel better?” he asked, kissing your shoulder, his moustache brushing your skin.

“Better than ever. Thank you, my love.”

“Perfect. Turn around now, please." You rolled onto your back, and you saw his eyes linger on your breasts for a few seconds, nipples hard after his hands on you.

“Well, General?” you chuckled.

“Mmm. I was staring, wasn’t I? I missed them too,” he confessed, blushing slightly, which was cute, coming from him.

He massaged your arms then your thighs, one by one, down to your ankles and feet, careful not to touch your breasts or even look at them, as if that would end the session prematurely. You didn't take your eyes off him, watching his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his tongue brushing his lip, his teeth nibbling on it.

Finally, you saw his gaze fixed on your pussy, something he had also avoided until then. The candlelight certainly didn’t allow him to see, but he probably knew you were flowing down to the bed. His hand slid from your ankle to your thigh, then brushed your folds before slipping between them, making you whine, as you heard the grunt of approval when his finger got lost in your wetness.

He took a deep breath and said “I’m too eager to taste you, now. But tomorrow I will touch, lick, worship your whole body. I want to kiss you, from your forehead to your toes. Take back what’s mine.”

“I’m yours, always, Acacius. Whether you are here or not.”

“I know, my sweet girl, I know. As I’m yours. Ad vitam aeternam. (forever)”

He got undressed and you loved that he took his time doing it, with a soft smile on his lips. You loved knowing that he would be there with you for several weeks. Every day and every night. 

You were never tired of looking at him. His body was a gift from the gods. His strong neck, with veins bulging every time he thrust into you. His broad shoulders, his belly slightly softer as the years passed. His large hands, next to which yours seemed tiny. 

His cock.

So massive that on your wedding night you had been so afraid that you had thought of running away. But he had assured you that he would be gentle and go slowly, that he would take care of you. After another hesitation you had chosen to trust him, his tone, his gaze, and two nights later it had seemed that you had been physically made for each other.

But more than his body, his personality, his loyalty, the way he cared about you, made him a loving, reliable, protective husband. You thanked the gods every day for making him yours.

Once naked, he knelt on the bed between your thighs, gently spreading them, finally revealing your pussy. Again, he took a deep breath. His thumb ran over your wet folds.

“You’re drooling for me.”

He lay down, bringing his face closer to your pussy and breathing it in. “Gods, I missed it.”

His tongue traced a stripe between your folds, up to your clit, making you whine. He looked up at you, adding “now, you’re gonna feed me.”

He dove between your thighs, eyes closed, your folds spread by his thumbs, burying his tongue in your core. Feasting, like he did each time he came back, but not only. From the wedding night, and all the others that followed, he had shown you how much he loved eating you out, pulling orgasm after orgasm, sometimes two in a row because he didn’t want to or couldn't stop.

“Acacius,” you whimpered while his nose was rubbing perfectly against your clit. As he had learned during all those years the way your body responded to him.

Back arched, hands lost in his curls, you moved in harmony with his mouth and his tongue, reaching for him, rolling your hips towards him. He pulled back for a few seconds to look at you, and smiled when you cried for his loss. His beard and mustache glistened with your slick and his pupils were dilated as if he had consumed opium to heal a wound. He leaned towards you again, pushing one thick finger between your folds and then sucking your clit. He quickly added a second digit when he heard your needy moans, and licked at your clit. Your hands moved from his curls to your breasts, then to the sheets, your fists clenching on them.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered, pelvis tilted towards him as far as possible, as if he wasn't already so close to you. The pleasure that was growing in your core finally exploded, hands and thighs holding his head against your cunt, not wanting him to stop. Docile, he kept licking and pumping you with his fingers, until you stopped clenching on them and released him.

He straightened up, crawling between your thighs, taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking on it like his life depended on it before moving on to the other, leaving them glistening with his saliva. Finally, lying between your thighs, he kissed you, his mouth and lips tasting like you.

“I want to taste you too, please,” you begged.

“Of course, my sweet girl. You don’t have to ask. I’m all yours.”

You kissed him before he rolled onto his back, and you straddled him. Covering his cheeks, lips, neck with kisses, then moving down to his torso, hands roaming over his skin. You took one of his nipples in your mouth, sucking, nibbling, licking, then the other, without taking your eyes off him. Admiring his beautiful face. You continued to move down, kissing his belly and hips, your breasts brushing his hard, oozing cock. You took his shaft in hand, and licked his balls, eyes still fixed on him, to see him drop his head back on the bed. “Gods..,” you heard him breathe. 

You smiled and left his balls to suck on his tip, lingering on it, giving you some time to get used to its width, to savor him in your mouth again. His precum flowed in your throat. He had been gone for so long that you were afraid you had forgotten the taste, but it was so familiar again now. Your head bobbing on his shaft, you wanted to make him feel good, wetness dripping from your cunt, moaning on his shaft, and you closed your eyes until you heard him growl louder. Then opened them to see his head raised towards you. One of his hands was placed on the back of your neck.

“You like it, General?” you asked playfully, then licked his shaft tongue flat.

“It’s divine.”

You crawled towards him, arousal dripping from your core after sucking him, you kissed his body again and then his lips, before murmuring “take me.”

His eyes darkened and in one movement he laid you down on the bed, under him. Pressing his cock to your entrance, this time he didn't wait, hands tight on your hips, he pushed his whole lenght into your cunt. His massive cock, so hard that you lost your breath. He never took his eyes off you, dark gaze lowered towards you, soft eyes forgotten in favor of a feral stare. He was possessive, claiming your body as he claimed cities during battles, like his body and mind needed it. Like you needed it too.

You tried to keep your eyes open, to look at him, leaning towards you, eyebrows furrowed, veins throbbing. But the relentless rhythm of his shaft spreading your walls made you forget where you were, leaving you moaning and repeating his name. You clung to his shoulders, telling him how much you loved to feel him again, how much you needed it. 

“Always taking me so well”, he growled, and you hummed with approval.

He slid his hand to the back of your neck, holding you close, his nose against your ear. He breathed you in, focused on your moans, eager to have all his senses filled with you, after months of being surrounded by dirt, screams and blood. 

He was home now, you were his home.

“Acacius,” you whined, his crotch rubbing perfectly where you needed it. 

“Come for me. Soak me.”

“Oh gods… Acacius… Acacius,” you whimpered, your orgasm rushing over you, making you pulse on his shaft, your clit throbbing against his skin.

“Just like that, squeezing me so hard… you were made for me,” he murmured, his breathing now ragged as his own pleasure rose.

“I’m… oh gods,” he said, just before cumming inside you, long spurts of cum painting your walls in white. You held him tighter against you, as he moaned in your ear. Your general of Rome, now the most vulnerable man in your arms.

His jolts finally stopped and he straightened up slightly, careful not to crush you under his weight. He covered your skin with kisses, from your neck to your lips, before rolling onto his side and welcoming you against his chest, arms wrapped around your bare body. Both of you waited for your breathings to calm down.

“I cherish it, you know,” you said, curled up against his chest.

“What do you cherish?” he asked, caressing your skin with his large, loving hands.

“Having you like this, in these moments. It always seems unreal to me, your softness and protectiveness towards me, knowing that you lead battles for Rome. Everyone who fought near you evokes your cold blood.”

He hugged you closer and kissed your forehead, brushing it for a moment with his moustache.

“I love you. I’m only myself when I’m home, with you.”

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[spatialwave]

➸ ask: “I will actually go insane if you do “kitchen counter makeouts” with Viktor (established relationship) pls”

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➸ pairing: viktor x fem!reader ➸ word count: 755 ➸ tags: mdni! semi-nsfw, no smut, kissing, fluff, established relationship, dominant viktor, no use of y/n. ➸ notes: i wrote this in thirty minutes. i’m so down bad. ask came from this prompt – tysm for sending! <3

“Viktor,” your voice, panicked, called from the kitchen. You were hovered over the stove, currently in the middle of a futile attempt at cooking a Sunday night dinner. You cut your finger twice already, and forgot an important step when putting the casserole into its dish – everything was falling apart.

The sounds of uneven footsteps and the soft tap of a cane came down the hallway, your lover pulling himself away from his work to check on you.

“What’s wrong?” His voice matched your own, hurrying to your side to see if you’d hurt yourself again. He looked over the empty stove, then to you.

“Sorry,” you smiled up at him, “false alarm.”

The man crinkled his nose, eyes narrowing, “You scared me, I thought you cut yourself again.”

“All good now, thanks to you,” you grinned, lifting your hand to reveal the two bandages that were wrapped delicately around your clumsy fingers. He couldn’t stay mad at you, not when your cheeks dimpled and your eyes sparkled at the slightest bit of attention received from him.

A heavy sigh left his lips, followed by the shake of his head, “I have to finish up my notes, can you let me know when dinner is ready?” He asked, eyes widening when your bottom lip jutted out in a big pout in immediate response.

“But the food is going to take at least twenty more minutes before it’s ready, can’t you just keep me company?” You asked coyly, bandaged fingers pressing to his chest and sliding up until they held his neck. Then, up into his hair, where they brushed through the brunet strands.

“Ah,” he hummed, cane discarded, so his hands could rest on your hips, “you miss me, no?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged, pulling him until your backside was pressed against the kitchen counter, and he leaned much of his weight against you, “or maybe I’ve missed your lips.”

You loved when you managed to wrangle a genuine smile out of Viktor, seeing his teeth flash from behind his lips as a rosy pink blush covered his cheeks. Oh, how that always filled you with butterflies.

It was obvious that he missed yours just as equally, considering your feet that were once flat on the ground were now dangling as you sat on the countertop. He’d pushed himself forward, forcing your legs apart as he gifted you with what you had been desiring.

Viktor’s lips pressed to yours, eager and needy. You whined at the sudden motion, lips parting just enough so he could slip his tongue between yours. Shivers ran up your spine, leaving a chill along your skin as his tongue tangled with yours. A fight for dominance that he won easily.

“Viktor,” you moaned, fingers tightening in his hair and eliciting a whimper from his lips that instantly heated up your once-cold body.

There wasn’t enough time in the world that could be provided to satiate Viktor on his path to experience everything with you. To taste every flavour on your tongue, like the glass of wine you had just finished, or to inhale the perfume that clung to your clothes and made you smell sickeningly sweet. The only scene that calmed his nerves.

He pulled his lips from yours, instead latching to your neck and nipping at the skin. He’d always been so damned good at kissing, leaving you a moaning, writhing mess with only his lips. Whether it was your jaw, neck or between your legs.

A particularly hard pinch of his teeth on your skin made you whine, and he hummed against your skin–licking.

Hands pressed underneath the hem of your shirt, nails grazing the surface of your skin until his fingers tightened around your hips. He forced you closer, room for you to roll your hips against his so you could chase the friction that your body craved so desperately.

“I’m not even hungry anymore,” you breathed out, eyes closed as your back arched when his tongue glided over your collarbone. Over another mark he’d left so greedily.

Viktor pulled back at your words, his hair messy and lips a tad swollen. You felt small under his gaze, feeling this way only when you’d riled him up enough.

“Then we should probably turn off the oven and head to bed, no?” He asked, a flash of lust flickering through his eyes.

The oven beeped when it shut off, and your moans carried through the apartment as you ventured far from the mess you dared to call a meal.

[hoonven]

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS

2.1K ⸺ a moment of clarity brings you back to your fiancé, flour-dusted and waiting, and somehow, amid the remnants of your champagne problems, you find hope stirring in the winter air

‎PAIRING! fiancé!park sunghoon x female reader

GENRES! fluff, angst, established relationship, hurt/comfort

WARNINGS! mentions of emotionally absent parents, brief mention of food, the reader struggles with overcoming childhood fears, i think that’s it lmk if i missed anything

Park Sunghoon was like snow, a silent beauty in the unforgiving frigid season of winter. He was the joy of building snowmen, the thrill of snowball fights, and the wonder of making snow angels. He was the delicate touch of snowflakes melting on your skin, the serene hush of snowfall blanketing the world. He was the sweetness of gingerbread cookies and the warmth of hot cocoa brimming with marshmallows. He was the comfort of a flickering fireplace, the softness of a fuzzy blanket wrapped tightly around you, the subtle perfume of winter spices from a burning candle.

Park Sunghoon was like snow—pure, ethereal, and timeless. He shone like the star atop a Christmas tree, his presence brought the excitement of a gift waiting to be unwrapped. He was the nostalgia of holiday movies you’ve seen a hundred times, yet never grew tired of.

Park Sunghoon was winter’s magic, a special spirit that blessed the earth in all its glory.

So why did you feel the biting cold?

It was exactly a year ago on Christmas Eve, and his proposal was perfect. The snow-covered gazebo twinkled with string lights, the crisp air carried the scent of pine, and a soft melody of carolers drifted from the town square. His hand, trembling but steady, had pulled a blue velvet box from his coat pocket. He smiled, warm and sure, as if he already knew your answer.

“Will you marry me?” he’d asked. The four simple words spoken in the kind of voice that could thaw an endless winter.

Your heart swelled, your hands shook, and you whispered a quiet “yes.” But later that night, as you laid in bed staring at the ceiling while the world outside froze over, doubt crept in like frost spreading across a windowpane.

Your mother’s voice rang in your ears, in weary resignation. You remembered how she used to sit by the window in the afternoons, staring out at a world she never felt part of anymore. “I gave up everything,” she had said once. “For my kids. For my husband. And look where it got me.”

The memory tightened around your chest like a vice. Sunghoon wasn’t like your father—he wasn’t distant, distracted, or cold. He was attentive, affectionate, and endlessly patient. But still, what if? What if marrying him meant losing yourself, too? What if everything started out great and then slowly got worse just like it did for your parents?

“Talk to me,” he said one evening, his voice soft but firm as he pulled you from the kitchen where you’d been stirring a pot of soup you didn't intend to eat. The engagement ring on your finger catches the light, a reminder of the promise you made but aren’t sure you can keep.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, refusing to meet his eyes.

“You’re lying.” His hands gently rest on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing reassuring circles. “You’ve been somewhere else since last Christmas Eve.”

You paused for a moment, caught off guard. You had almost forgotten how good he was at psychologizing you in the midst of your internal battle. But you lie again—because it's what comes most naturally to you when someone asks if you're okay.

“It’s nothing. I’m just stressed.”

“It’s not nothing. I can see it on your face. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

His persistence feels like sunlight breaking through clouds, but you’re not ready to let the warmth in. You pull away, wrapping your arms around yourself as if shielding your heart from his. “I just… I don’t know if I can do this. What if I end up like my mom? What if I lose myself in this, Sunghoon?”

The words hang in the air like smoke, and for a moment, his expression cracks—hurt flickering across his features like a candle about to go out. But then he steps closer, his voice steady, gentle. “You’re not your mom. And I’m not your dad. Your mom had dreams, ambitions—things she was passionate about just like you. But the difference is you found someone who loves that about you. I would never ask you to give any of that up.”

“But what if I do anyway?” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “What if I forget who I am because I love you too much?”

“Then I’ll remind you,” he said simply. “Every day, if I have to.”

His words chipped away at the icy wall you had built around yourself, but fear is a stubborn thing, clinging even as warmth seeps in.

You suppose that's why you're sitting on a couch, staring at the framed watercolor painting on the wall—something abstract, meant to be calming, but to you, it’s just a swirl of indistinct shapes. Your hands fidget with the hem of your knit sweater as the snow-laden world outside the window reflects your mood: quiet, heavy, and cold.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name pulls you back. Your therapist, Dr. Hart, leans forward slightly, her pen poised over her notepad. Her voice is soft, patient. “What’s on your mind?”

You blink, feeling the heat of her steady gaze. “Oh, um…” You hesitate, glancing down at your hands. “Nothing, really. Just lost in thought.”

Dr. Hart tilts her head, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Nothing’s rarely ever nothing. Take your time.”

For a moment, the room feels too small, too quiet, but you exhale and decide to speak. “Sunghoon,” you admit softly.

“Your fiancé?”

You nod, feeling a pang in your chest as the word settles between you. Fiancé. It’s supposed to feel joyful, exciting, but lately, it’s felt complicated.

“I love him,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “I really do. He’s kind, supportive, and everything I could ever ask for in a man. But ever since he proposed, I’ve been… scared?”

Dr. Hart doesn’t interrupt, her expression open and encouraging.

“I keep thinking about my parents,” you continue. “My mom gave up everything to be with my dad. She stopped working, stayed home to raise me and my siblings, and over time, she just… lost herself. She used to love winning lawsuits for her clients, but eventually, all she did was clean and cook and wait for him to come home. She became so bitter, and my dad barely noticed. I don’t want that to happen to me. I don’t want to lose myself like she did.”

“And you’re afraid marrying Sunghoon will put you on the same path,” Dr. Hart says, her voice gentle.

You nod, your throat tightening. “I know Sunghoon isn’t my dad. He’s nothing like him. But what if I am like my mom? What if, without meaning to, I give up who I am because I love him too much?”

Dr. Hart lets the silence linger for a moment before speaking. “It sounds like you’ve built a wall around yourself, trying to protect your identity and your independence. And that’s not a bad thing—those parts of you are important. But Y/N, have you ever asked yourself this: is Sunghoon asking you to give those parts up?”

You blink, her question catching you off guard, and you're reminded of your conversation with him a few days ago when he pulled you out of the kitchen. “No,” you admit quietly. “He’s always encouraging me to do what I love. And reminding me to take breaks when I get too wrapped up in work.”

Dr. Hart nods thoughtfully. “It seems to me that the fear you’re holding onto doesn’t come from Sunghoon. It comes from your past—from what you saw in your parents’ relationship. You’ve taken that fear and made it your own, but it doesn’t have to be. You are not your mother, and Sunghoon is not your father. Their story is not yours.”

Her words land like a stone sinking into water, rippling through your thoughts.

“But what if I still mess it up?” you ask, your voice small. “What if I get it wrong?”

Dr. Hart smiles gently. “Every relationship takes work, compromise, and communication. But the fact that you’re here, reflecting on your fears, tells me you care deeply about doing this right. Sunghoon sounds like someone who sees you for who you are and loves you as you are. Maybe the question isn’t about whether you’ll lose yourself but whether you’ll allow yourself to trust you—and him.”

The knot in your chest loosens, her words settling like fresh snow over the chaos in your mind.

“Trust him,” you echo softly, more to yourself than to her.

Dr. Hart nods. “And trust yourself. You are not defined by your parents’ choices. You have the power to create the future you desire.”

For the first time in a year, the weight on your shoulders feels a little lighter. You leave the session feeling like the frost in your heart is starting to melt, warmed by the realization that maybe, just maybe, you can be brave enough to trust in the love you’ve found—and the person you’ve grown to be.

The smell hits you first—something warm and sweet, mingling with the faintest hint of something burning. You push open the front door, stepping into the glow of the tiny Christmas tree you and Sunghoon had decorated last week. Lights twinkle softly, casting shadows that dance on the walls, but it’s the sound of soft muttering coming from the kitchen that makes you smile.

When you round the corner, you stop in your tracks.

Sunghoon is standing by the counter, dusted in flour from his hair to his slippers, poking at a tray of slightly misshapen cookies. He’s wearing the most outrageously festive apron you’ve ever seen—bright red with cartoon reindeer and candy canes, a pair of oven mittens that look like Santa’s hands resting on the counter. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he lifts one cookie with a spatula, only for it to crumble in half.

“Oh, come on,” he grumbles under his breath, shaking his head.

You press a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh, but the sound escapes anyway, and his head snaps up.

“You’re home,” he says, his eyes lighting up despite the flour smudged on his cheek. “Uh, surprise?”

“What are you doing?” you ask, stepping closer.

He shrugs sheepishly, glancing at the mess on the counter. “I thought I’d try making your favorite holiday cookies. You know, the ones your mom always made? I figured it might cheer you up.” He winces as he looks at the tray. “But, uh, they didn’t turn out as planned. I think I overdid the ginger or… probably everything.”

Your chest tightens, but not with anxiety this time. It’s the kind of warmth that spreads slowly, filling the cracks you’ve been carrying.

You see it then, as clear as the frost on the windowpane: you are not your mother, and Sunghoon is not your father.

Your mother gave up everything, but you won’t. You’ve built a life filled with love, with purpose, with someone who sees you for who you are and encourages you to be more. Sunghoon doesn’t take from you—he gives.

The thought warms you like a fire on a cold winter night.

“Sunghoon,” you whisper, your voice catching.

He frowns, stepping toward you. “What’s wrong? Did something happen at therapy?”

You shake your head, and before he can say anything else, you close the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He freezes for a moment, surprised, then melts into the hug, his arms slipping around your waist.

“I love you,” you murmur into his shoulder. “And I'm sorry for being so distant, for letting my fears get in the way. You’ve been so patient with me, and I should’ve trusted you more. Trusted myself more. I should’ve trusted us more.”

“I love you, Sunghoon, and I want to marry you.” You say, the words spilling out like a confession. “I just needed time to remember that I’m not her. And you’re not him.”

His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, his touch gentle. “Hey, it’s okay,” he says softly. “I know you’ve been through a lot. I just wanted to remind you that I’m here, no matter what.”

You pull back slightly to look at him, tears pricking your eyes. “We’re gonna be okay, right?” you ask, your voice trembling.

His gaze is steady, warm, as he cups your cheek with his flour-dusted hand. “We’re gonna be more than okay. You’re not her, Y/N. You’re you—stubborn in all the best ways.” His lips quirk into a small smile. “And you’re stuck with me, reindeer apron and all.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, light and free. “You look ridiculous by the way,” you say, brushing a smudge of flour from his cheek.

“Ridiculously handsome,” he counters with a grin.

You roll your eyes but lean in to kiss him, a silent promise in the way your lips meet. Outside, snow falls softly, blanketing the world in a quiet peace. And in his arms, you finally feel warm.

© 2024 hoonven, all rights reserved. i do not give permission to modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize my works on any platform. NETWORK! @kstrucknet

[s1m0nth3swag]

Could you write “How would Viktor does when reader has depression”.

Of course! Thanks for the ask pookie :)

These r a little short because I am still ill (and my head is literally killing me as I type this) but Viktor is more important than getting well!! (Also bawling my eyes out after act 3, even though I'd still love Viktor nonetheless, machine or not, he's getting it)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO: Mentions of Depression (obviously), GN!Reader, sweet Fluff, Viktor has no clue what he's doing in all honesty, he tries (and succeeds) to be sweet

2 Stories - One more casual/not yet dating and the other is established relationship

You've been off lately, Viktor had noticed. Isolating yourself bit by bit, looking more tired and overall acting just weird. You've had your phases before, but this one was too long. It wasn't like you at all. You've barely even spoken to him or Jayce, when usually you'd yap both their ears off about whatever topic you had learned about the previous night. Now, the lab was silent. Jayce was away on some Council party, and god knows Viktor would never start a conversation on his own while working. Though, he couldn't focus tonight. He mindlessly tinkered with small parts that laid around his desk, his thoughts clouded with the question of what was bothering you. Whatever it was, it bothered him as well. He'd never say, but he missed the cheery and chipper way you'd usually be.

"Are you... alright?" He questions after a while, clearing his throat slightly. This was already too awkward for him, but he did care. Totally just because the atmosphere of the lab would suffer if you weren't your usual self. He noticed the way you shifted uncomfortably as he glanced over to where you were sitting, like you were pondering how to answer. He wondered why you'd need so long to think of an answer, as if you couldn't tell him the truth. "I'm fine. Just a little tired, I just haven't been sleeping well." You answer, a soft, akward chuckle slipping from your lips. Viktor doesn't like that answer. You're different from how you are when you're just tired - not that he actually paid attention to that, but you weren't on your fifth cup of coffee yet. Actually, you hadn't had coffee at all today, another unusual happening. He sighs softly, and you immediatly know that he's gotten into questioning mode - he was a scientist after all. He really couldn't help it. "You can talk to me, you know? We don't have to be lab partners and nothing else, we can be friends." He speaks, his voice softer than before. "What's bothering you, hm?" Viktor adds, turning his chair around to look at you properly. It's your turn to sigh, letting your head hang slightly. "I've just been... feeling off. Like, actually tired but in a mental way? I don't know how to explain." You mutter, awkwardly averting your gaze from him. "We should take a day off, then. Do whatever you want instead of working." Viktor answers casually. "I don't want to miss important stuff in the lab Viktor, I can't take a day off." You throw back at him. He huffs, a slight chuckle filling the room. "Not you. Us. Maybe all three, if Jayce is willing." He clarifies, already noting it down in his notebook to make sure that day off actually happens.

Viktor noticed the moment he woke up next to you. You'd fallen into another slump. He could tell just by the way you didn't just not want to get up - it was a physical challenge for you. He's seen you like this before, though usually it didn't last too long, at least not that he's noticed, maybe only a day or two at most. But by now, it's been almost a week, and you haven't spoken to him about it. You've been more abrasive, have started caring less about your personal hygiene, and while Viktor doesn't mind, he always hated when you didn't take proper care of yourself. He wanted you to feel good, not fall into a depressive hole. He offered to take a shower or bath with you, to make a game out of brushing your teeth, but you had shut everything down. It wasn't because you didn't think the ideas were sweet, but more because you didn't think you even deserved that much effort. Viktor had to helplessly watch you get worse, and he couldn't even do anything to properly help. It was absolute hell to him.

He'd had enough, wanted to be mad at you, even, but he couldn't blame you for it. He could, however, force you to stay cuddled up in bed with him. You liked staying in bed anyway, and cuddling with him was always one of your favourites. So, here you two were, snuggled into the covers of Viktors way too confortable bed. "You know that I love you, right?" Viktor mumbled, his accent more heavy with sleep. He didn't say it enough, at least that's what he thought. "I do know..." you answered, just as sleepily. "I know you can't control this.. but let me help you, please? I know it's hard, trust me I do, but I hate having to watch from the sidelines as you get worse..." He sighs, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Let me just be there for you, yeah, my dear?" Viktor adds, pulling away slightly to look at you. "Alright.. I'll... I'll try, I promise." You answer, scooting back towards him so you could press your face into the crook of his neck, basking in his warmth for a little longer.

[f1amour]

heyyy! can i request “i’m scared of losing you” (from angst1) with oscar piastri?

❝ i’m scared of losing you ❞ — oscar piastri

pairing | oscar piastri x reader

content warnings | lots of miscommunication, angst, comfort, happy ending

★ JOIN MY SHORT N SWEET FRIENDSGIVING !

─────────────────────────

it had been a few months since you last attended a race due to your job obligations but in oscar’s eyes he only saw it as one thing; you’ve missed him winning a race, twice now.

in his eyes he thought you may no longer love him that he wasn’t worth enough for you. however, in your eyes you believed he no longer loved you especially due to his lack of presence in your life and never asking you to join him for a race weekend in months. both of you afraid to lose each other didn’t touch on the subject and living as if everything is okay.

until it wasn’t.

“i may not win another race this season but i would appreciate your support! you weren’t there for my two wins and i…i’m tired of this,” oscar argued back, you had both gone out to dinner in monaco after he returned from singapore. it started with a sweet conversation of what to do for the break to now bitter comments towards each other.

“tired of what? of me? i’m trying, oscar. i just started my third year of university and then work—.”

“work! it’s always work this work that. they always need you for something even though it’s not even in your title to do all that! you drop everything to be there for them but you can’t be there for me not even once…baby?” his mean words hit you immediately and you sit on the couch of your apartment hands covering your face as you sob uncontrollably.

“baby, yn…hey, hey breathe with me. it’s okay i’m here” oscar whispers on your ear, both arms cradling you now. was it okay? his approach may not have been the best but he wasn’t wrong. your job had been putting too much on your plate when you were meant to just be an underpaid intern who was doing multiple jobs that were not your responsibility.

“but you aren’t here, osc. i…i know that your career is demanding but you didn’t take a second to look back and realize i ease being left behind. i feel guilty i wasn’t there for your two wins especially your first. i begged my job to let me just visit you for a day to celebrate but they made me stay. it wasn’t even my day to work and i still stayed. i chose a job that doesn’t value me over you…you do care about me maybe not right now—.”

“i’m gonna stop you right there. i’m an idiot who didn’t bother asking how you’ve been recently and expecting you to support me more when i didn’t see what you’d been going through. i’m so sorry,” he whispers, his forehead pressed against yours kissing your tears away.

you whisper out five words you’d been feeling for awhile now, “i’m scared of losing you,” closing your eyes ready for oscar to say you’ve already lost him, “i’m scared too.” his voice matches your vulnerability.

opening your eyes looking at him in shock, “you are?” you felt like you were both taking a big step in admitting this. maybe, just maybe this would help in repairing your relationship.

“i am. i think we’ve been selfish towards each other but we also haven’t communicated right. i should have asked you more about how the job was treating you-,”

“i should have asked you how the team had been treating you.” you counter back and he chuckles.

“i know you want to be independent when it comes to your career. but i think you should quit that job and focus on school only. i know you don’t want me to take care of you financially but just let me do that for now until you graduate and find a job that will value the skills you have. i can’t lose us. i can’t lose you, yn. i love you.” his words filled with nothing but love, oscar meant well and for once you decide to take him up on the offer he’d been giving you since you started dating two years ago.

“okay.” a simple word replacing your frown into a smile on each others faces. there was work to do on your communication with each other but for now you both got to breathe a sigh of relief after facing a fear that would no longer happen.

[phyrestartr]

Nemesis (The Man I Miss) | Miguel O'hara x M!BlackCat!Reader (TEASER)

CW: jealousy, violence, brutality, self-loathing, implied depression, possessive relationship #NSFW, Top!Miguel, Bottom!Reader, hurt/comfort, anti-hero reader, complicated relationships, lonely reader, crook turned hero, reader is a tired guy, mutual pining - Note: Posting some WIPs I've had laying around for a while while I try to finish up the next HOUND update! Needed a bit of a break from it since it's pretty long, but I hope some teasers make up for the wait. Tysm for reading!

Taking care of Nueva York was exhausting. You were far too used to being the problem rather than the problem-solver. That job reserved itself for the one and only Spiderman–your Spiderman. 

At least, you liked to think he was yours. 

Knowing my luck, the prick’s run off with his shocking wife or something. The thought plagued your mind too often. And it was true: Spiderman disappeared. He no longer served Nueva York and kept it safe, he no longer caught you with your hand in the cookie jar, he no longer gave chase throughout the city before pinning you down on some rooftop and taking his prize by force. And you liked it–no, you loved it. Fucking with the man who’d always get to fuck you back came to be a part of life you relished. 

But now you were alone. Left by yourself to deal with lumbering lizards and giggling goblins while wondering how the fuck you’d ended up as a hero when you were anything but. Even the police couldn’t believe the switch, which caused some problems, and led to less-sexy chases that ended with you getting away no problem. 

I wish I had problems. Just one problem, though: Spiderman. 

You tossed aside your shiny leathers and collapsed into your bed. He’d never been there, no, but you fantasized about it. You thought about his impossibly wide back and the ripple of taut muscle greeting you in the morning, or maybe his built chest and strong neck–or maybe his handsome face–well, you’d never seen his face, but you had your guesses. 

Your chest twinged the slightest bit, somewhere between where your greed and feelings intertwined.

Ugh. You missed him. 

–

“Who's that?” Peter remarked as he walked up on Miguel. The lab was dark and dreary, spilling with shades of orange and amber where the blues couldn't reach. And Miguel, the source of the cold, stood in front of the firelight, gazing upon your image in the newscycle. 

Miguel frowned. “No one.” But he didn't tuck your image nor the article away. 

“Huh, looks like Black Cat. A 2099 Black Cat? Never thought I'd see the day.” Peter hummed and bounced a sleepy Mayday in his arms. “He up to no good?” 

“He's up to good,” Miguel bit out. “That's the problem. He doesn't do good.” 

“He's sort of an anti-hero these days,” Lyla cut in, blinking into existence on Peter's shoulder like the devil she was. “All thanks to Spiderman's influence–” 

“Lyla,” Miguel warned (begged?). 

“--aaand their sweet, cute budding romance,” she finished with a dreamy sigh. “Doesn't it just melt your heart?” 

–

You pinned him against the wall and let your hands trace through the hard lines of his muscles on your way down to your ultimate prize. Spiderman shuddered and stayed still, much to your surprise, letting you feel him, letting you acknowledge the hardness bulging under your criminal touch. Because he dreamt of this too. Dreamt of you touching him, of you falling down to your knees, your eyes never leaving his masked face even when you pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to stretched fabric holding back his filled cock. 

“So strong,” you cooed, “but not strong enough to resist, hm?” You sighed and worked him through the fabric with one hand. “Shouldn’t you be stopping the big bad from manhandling you like this, Spidey?”

“Hardly consider you the big bad,” he scoffed back. Spiderman tilted his head back with a choked groan whent hose diamond-tipped clawed gloves dug into his thighs. “Mierda, you–”

“Oh?” You grinned, so cheshire, so in-theme with your persona. “You can stop me any time, no?” 

He could’ve. But he didn’t. 

–

“A daughter,” you murmured. The flickering images–memories, maybe?–were there, waiting quietly for you, preserved and kept precious in shades of amber. But the scene was so alive; you could feel the stretch of the sun against your gloved touch, you basked in the crisp Spring air of that soccer game, you drowned in the warmth of that father's smile–

Spidey's smile. That was beyond obvious. The mountainous shoulders, the tawny skin, those hands– they belonged to him. Your beast. Your nemesis and lover, the man you hadn’t seen for far too long–

“Because you've been off taking care of a kid?” Your fingers, gentle, feather-light, ghosted across that foreign memory. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Who’s your baby mama?

The lab lights stilted and jittered. You snapped from your trance and made for the window you’d come in through, not bothering to see what was happening with your system jammers–you knew Lyla, she knew you, and that made the whole breaking-into-Spiderman’s-base thing more tricky and risky. Your jammer wasn’t fool-proof. It was quite easy to override, actually, but the interference was the difficult thing to detect in the first place. You only thought you’d need a handful of minutes to see your spider, anyway.

But he wasn’t there. Maybe he was off with his little girl. 

Something cacophonous and nerve-wracking churned to the sound of warping electricity behind you as you dove from the window and slid down the side of the skyscraper, claws shrieking against metal and glass alike until you could launch off and latch onto a passing hover car. The periphery of your mind swore it saw flashes of orange and yellow, more violent and heavy than the screens you stared at in that dower room, and maybe you might have heard a familiar voice too. 

The broad, tiny silhouette standing in that abandoned window gave you much more to think about.  -- Feel free to comment on this post if you want to be tagged for the full version!

@kamote-kuneho @tr4nnie @silvern1006

[toyogamii]

SHOULD TELL MY BOYFRIEND WHAT I’VE BEEN DOIN’— BEEN THINKIN’ OF YOU, EVERY TIME I SCREW HIM!

a/n: i’m just a toji girl what can i say??

warnings: cheating kinda? reader fucks her bf while thinking about toji :p I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION!! porn without plot hehe

synopsis: what’s a girl to do when her lame boyfriend can’t even make her cum? start daydreaming about that sexy ex that had her squirting with barely a flick of his wrist of course!

being all alone on a saturday night is not for the weak. sitting on the couch with your loving boyfriend but still feeling all alone is also not for the weak.

you pride yourself on your strength, the sheer will power and determination you have to not curl your lips in disdain when his fingers travel up your thigh suggestively and you can see how hard he is already. the outline of his below average cock pushing against his sweats. in the beginning of your relationship you found it flattering, almost attractive how easily he got all squirmy under your hooded gaze.

then you saw him hiding his erection under a pillow the night the two of you watched to all the boys i loved before and the hot tub scene flashed across the tv. then it didn’t feel special anymore, knowing he was just acting like a horny teenager.

not a man.

nothing like toji.

you almost let out a gasp as the older man’s face flashes across your mind, tucking your lip into your teeth. your boyfriend chuckles in your ear, thinking that your reaction was because of his soft touches. but he didn’t know the sweet spots to caress, the places that had your heart racing and thighs clenching.

your mind fills with guilt as you blink rapidly, trying to extinguish the thoughts of your ex from your mind.

“come on pretty girl,” toji’s voice pierces through your skull, the memory of his husky tone making you let out a whimper as your eyes flutter closed, “know you’ve been missin’ me.”

thick fingers pull your shorts and panties down just a little too harshly and your eyes almost snap open but toji speaks again.

“shh, just missed this pretty pussy s’all.”

you can feel his breath on your throbbing clit and your hips buck softly, he chuckles and places the gentlest kiss on your clit making you mewl.

“patience is a virtue, baby.”

you can feel him smirk against your skin, the scar on his lip brushing against you as he places kisses along the inside of your thighs.

“please,” you breathe out, your hand tangling in his soft hair and tugging. trying desperately to get his mouth where you need it most. a shriek like moan falls from your lips when toji's scared mouth wraps around your clit and gives a harsh suck.

"taste s'fucking good princess," he groans against you, big hands digging into the meat of your thighs as he prys your legs further apart. he drags his tongue along your syrupy folds, making your eyes roll back your hips buck up.

"stay still f'me," he grumbles against your soaked pussy, his hand landed harshly on your thigh, "stop squirmin' and let me eat."

his vulgar words shoot straight to your core and you throb against him. moans falling freely as you tug his hair.

you let out a strangled yelp as two of his thick fingers press against your tight entrance, gently pushing in and curling just right. your hips are twisting wildly, your legs shaking as his fingers scissoring and stretch you open.

"f-fuck," you sob, back arching practically off the couch. you can feel the way toji's tongue begins to move fast, feel the way his hips are humping the leather seat underneath you.

"please- please m' so close," you moan.

"cum for me ma."

thats all it takes for you to burst. your vision goes white as you shake violently, mouth falling open in silent scream. soft hands that feel just a touch smaller than before caress your thighs gently as you come to.

"you haven't ever cum that hard before," someone says with a soft chuckle. your eyes snap open, expecting to meet sly green ones but to no avail. looking back at you is your boyfriend, your chest is still heaving and your face is flushed. you gulp as guilt hits you.... for just a minute you really thought...

"uh yeah.." you mutter sheepishly, "guess i've just been pent up..."

your boyfriend laughs and rests his head on your leg. you almost flinch from the contact, mind still reeling with shock and guilt.

"we literally had sex yesterday, have i been neglecting you?" he teases.

yes, absolutely, toji would have had known that i've been faking it the whole time, you think bitterly. but you smile sweetly and shake your head.

"what can i say? ... i just can't get enough of you."

he smirks devishly and stands up extending his hand,

"wanna take this to the bedroom then?

you swallow hard and sigh before taking his hand with a nod and forced grin.

"... of course."

[oikawaweon]

fragile ft. fushiguro megumi

pairing: f.megumi x female reader genre: angst/fluff word count: 6,1k synopsis: in a slow, fragile basis of the beginning of your relationship, life with megumi has been nothing but ordinary. and in between drunken confessions, he finds out how you feel destined to be an afterthought, and how much he loves you pains him to see you like that. warnings: college!au, mentions of cheating and self-deprecation, drinking. angst with a tiny bit of comfort. might be ooc idk idc.

if you had to describe your current status with megumi in one word, you'd probably have an internal battle about how to define it.

you wouldn't call it weak because even if you had been officially together for nearly four months now, the way your bond and mutual understanding were getting dangerously stronger every day, you swore you could've trusted your life on megumi the moment you crossed paths with him. it was eager and hot-blooded, and you were unsure about what would be next, but you sure wanted it to be with him and him only.

you also wouldn't exactly call it delicate because the intensity of whatever process you two were crossing now—hands intertwined, still learning about each other—made it a sweet type of harsh and a soft type of powerful, just like the desire to get to know him even more and melt into him.

and if it really had to be one word only, you'd stick with fragile. fragile, because you were still visited by ghosts of past wounds and you knew it was the same for megumi. fragile, because you knew well he had his own trammels and issues, and while you loved that part of him as well, what if love wasn't enough for him to let you in? fragile, because a part of you still found it impossible to believe he could actually fall for you the way he swore he had.

you were at your apartment bathroom, putting on your makeup and finishing the last touches, checking up if anything was missing. suddenly, the little visit that came over a couple of hours ago before you'd go out with your friends knocked briefly on the open door to poke his head inside.

"i was thinking, and maybe... i thought i'd like to accompany you this time". megumi peeped at himself in the bathroom mirror, adjusting a stray of his hair to keep it in place. he was dressed up and hair combed, looking all pretty for you.

you turned your head to look directly at him with undeniable joy and surprise. "there's no way".

"seriously. i'm dead serious". he stared right at you, appreciating your look with amused eyes. you took a step closer to analyze his expression and confirm this was indeed, not a joke.

"who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend"

"but it's me!", he responded with an offended chuckle. "unless you don't want me to go with you, which i'd understand-"

"for god's sake megumi, i'm literally so happy right now you wouldn't understand!", you chanted before jumping into his embrace and smelling his perfume.

he sappily smiled from ear to ear with his eyes shuttled, internally awarding himself for making you happy. oh, how he loved seeing you like that.

now it was a lively evening, filled with laughter, chatter, and the faint buzz of music pulsing through the bar's walls. megumi hadn’t been one to attend many of your mutual friends’ meetings, but tonight, it was almost as if he felt the urge to be part of the crowd, if only for your sake. he knew you'd usually thrive in social situations, smile lighting up the room, and easy laughter filling every empty space with a warmth that seemed to draw people in. and since he, for once in his life, decided to go out with you by his side, tonight you were in your element considering it'd probably wouldn't happen again anytime soon.

by the time the middle of the night was reached, you were starting to get visibly tipsy, your cheeks flushed from the alcohol, and your movements just a little looser and carefree. your partner stayed by your side, engaging in conversation occasionally and offering a sense of security through the place with magnetic energy, keeping you in his orbit. he had poured himself a single drink earlier in the evening—just enough to take the edge off the social setting, but nothing that would leave him out of control. the truth was, tonight he preferred to keep his mind sharp and stay observant, especially at a gathering like this. a part of him knew he had to take care of you, and the other one simply wanted to remember this night out with detail. he held a glass in his hand, nursing it while watching over you, with a drunk itadori blabber-mouthing into his ear. he didn't need more than this.

however, as the night went on, megumi found himself a little on edge. you'd already laughed so hard at some brain-rotted thing toge was talking about, nearly dropping off your glass on the table, only to grab your boyfriend's arm dramatically like he was your lifeline.

“megumiii”, you whispered as loud as you could. “did you hear that one? i think it was the funniest shit ever. i mean, ever.”

“you’re at your limit” he muttered back with a concerned, but amused tone. you scrunched your nose and shook your head with a pout, not paying much attention to what he was saying.

“i’m fine,” you insisted, holding up a finger and pushing it into your chest with such determination that you swore he almost believed it (he clearly didn't). “totally…totally fine”.

he chuckled at your motions, and eventually, sensing you might need a break, your boyfriend gently nudged you and spoke to your ear.

“you know... i'm done with the chill guy jokes now. how about some fresh air?”

you stared at him for a second. "you're seriously so boring", you said with a delighted tone before standing up and grabbing his arm to pull him into you and bring him to the stairs at the corner of the bar.

you waved back at the table with a muttered "we'll be right back", and once you reached the stairs, step by step, he pulled a hand to put a firm hold on your waist to prevent you from falling down, his lips wandering all over your arm giving little pecks wherever he could reach.

once on the second floor of the building, the terrace welcomed both of you with the cool night air, a reprieve from the warmth of the salon downstairs. you clung to megumi's arm, looking up at him with a sparkling, slightly hazy look, one he was starting to recognize as a tipsy declaration of love waiting to happen. you leaned against him, letting out a small, content sigh as he gazed at the streetlights and the stars above.

your eyes wandered for a while before finding a nice spot to spend the time: a balcony, away from the noise and chaos inside. you leaned your elbows on the railing, and while you were gazing out at the city lights, megumi looked at the way the wind tousled your hair, the faint smile on your lips as you swayed a little, and even seemed to notice your distant expression, guessing that you might have started to dissociate and were somewhere far away. he stood beside you, leaning slightly closer and letting the quiet of the night settle around him.

you began talking, idly at first. it didn't matter that much anyway, it wasn't like you would remember any of it tomorrow morning. you rambled about something silly you'd seen earlier that day, making him laugh, and then he would add something he remembered at the moment. both of your words were flowing like a stream with no filter, voices soft and warm.

you stood close together on the balcony, leaning against each other as you looked out at the skyline, your cheeks flushed from the drinks you’d had earlier. the night air was cool, the city below sprawling out like a carpet of lights. you two were alone now, away from the noise, and he found himself drawn into the conversation that had become strangely vulnerable, more layered than he’d expected.

somewhere in the middle of your ramblings, your voice dropped to a softer, almost reflective tone. you laughed, a hint of bitterness coloring the edges, and your gaze drifted down to your hands, fidgeting with a handmade bracelet you paired with megumi during one of your first dates.

"you look like you're thinking too much about something", he uttered while taking off his black leather jacket and gently covering your shoulders, sensing that the temperature was quite lower outside.

you jumped as you fell off of the trance you were in and gave him a tsk. "oh it's nothing".

"if you say it's nothing then it's something that's concerning you. we can talk". he was observing too much and that was making you nervous.

you paused a little before clearing up your throat. was it a good idea to talk about it? was it necessary? really necessary? and then, the drunken eagerness hit you. fuck it.

"do you think that... we're heading into a good pathway?

he took a while to try and formulate a proper answer, wanting as much clarity as possible to avoid triggering a tipsy you. "if you talk about us, about our relationship... i think we are heading into a good pathway. why?"

"sometimes i'm scared this might not work out no matter what"

"what do you mean?", he answered with a concerned look.

“not trying to yapp, but i'm not sure if i've ever told you this, yet…” you began, your voice slurring just slightly as you played again with the charm on your wrist, “sometimes i can't stop thinking about how i got fucking cheated on. it wasn’t a big deal, though,” you shrugged casually as if discussing something as trivial as a forgotten text message. sensing his disquiet look, you kept talking in an attempt to erase the tension. “stuff like that just happens, y'know? at least when you're not much to stick around for.”

your words fell into the silence, each one landing heavily, cutting through the quiet in a way that made megumi realize how his chest was now aching. it was the way you’d spoken so casually, so matter-of-factly, as if it were a universal truth you'd come to accept. although drunk, the way you didn’t even flinch as you spoke, your expression still relaxed, but there was an undercurrent of sadness in your words, something so deeply ingrained that you probably weren’t even aware of it.

“honestly,” you swore you tried to stop yourself from speaking, but there was this odd feeling of needing to spit it out under the excuse of intoxication, your voice low and soft as you now ran your fingers along the metal of the railing. “i should've seen it coming with him. he was… well, he wasn’t perfect, but he was my first boyfriend.” you let out a soft laugh, the kind that didn’t quite match your eyes. “i think i always knew he didn’t really want to be with me, at least not in the way i wanted him to.”

megumi tensed, his grip tightening slightly around the rail of the balcony. he’d never really heard you talk about this, about anyone before him, and he felt a pang of something unfamiliar—a mixture of protectiveness and a strange, almost possessive ache. he kept watching you, trying to read between the lines of the sadness beneath your casual tone, the hints of self-deprecation you tried so hard to hide behind some silly narrative.

you noticed the change in his expression and felt immediately guilty for ruining the vibes of the moment. "i'm sorry for-"

"you don't have to say sorry. you can... keep talking if you... feel safe".

the relaxation slowly filled your body as you freed your thoughts. “he was always looking somewhere else, y'know? it’s funny…” you trailed off before chuckling again after the realization hit, feeling it all absurd now. “i think he only dated me because he couldn’t have the girl he actually wanted.” you shrugged, your expression oddly resigned. “and i was fine with that. i mean, who was i to think i’d be someone’s first choice? so stupidly in love and available”.

megumi felt his heart clench again. he wanted to reach out, to shake you from this idea that you weren't enough, that you somehow deserved less because of who you were. he knew you somehow struggled with self-perception, but he hadn’t realized just how deep it went. and it hurt him to think that, somewhere along the way, you’d convinced yourself that you were unworthy of loyalty, that betrayal was something you simply had to accept.

“y/n…” he began softly, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city below them. he wanted to say something, anything that would shake you out of the spiral, to let his girl see herself the way he did. “you’re not—” he hesitated, unsure if his words could even reach you, especially with the tipsy haze softening the edges of your pain.

however, you didn’t seem to notice the interruption, your voice growing a little distant as you continued, your gaze fixed on some point in the distance. “i always knew, deep down. there was this... odd gut feeling all the time when he’d tell me not to worry, that i was enough… but you know, people can’t help what they feel.” you let out a small sigh, shaking your head as if amused by your own naivety. “i was always the backup plan, and that’s fine. i got used to it. people settle sometimes. but it didn't feel right. and now i feel it so right with you that it scares me to even think of it happening again”.

to hear his precious girlfriend saying those things about herself, so casually and yet so cuttingly, felt like a punch to his gut. megumi could feel his frustration building, not at you, but at the way you dismissed yourself as if you were something disposable, something that could be set aside. his mind raced with memories of your laughter, your intelligence, your cockiness, the way you lit up a room with your energy. how could you not see what he saw? how could you believe you were anything less than fucking exceptional?

he leaned in slightly, his hand reaching out to gently turn your face towards him, his gaze intense, searching his loved one's eyes for something—anything—that might indicate she understood how deeply he cared for her, how much he wished she could see her own worth. “i need you to understand that you weren’t a backup plan to him, and you’re definitely not one to me,” he said, his voice firm but soft, every word laced with sincerity. “i don’t know why he couldn’t see what he had… but i do. i do see you, y/n.”

you looked at him, your gaze softening slightly, and for a moment, he thought he’d gotten through to you. but then, you shrugged with that same dismissive smile tugging at your lips as if you couldn’t quite believe him. “thanks, gumi. but… it’s fine, really. it’s not a big deal. i’m over it, and i'm just drunk. you probably shouldn't take me seriously” you said, your voice light, brushing off his words as if they were just platitudes.

he frowned, feeling a growing frustration—not at you, but at this wall you’d built around yourself, this barrier that kept you from accepting the love he was trying to offer. “you shouldn’t talk about yourself like that,” he said, his voice was firmer now, a touch of impatience slipping through. “you don’t have to dismiss yourself. you don’t have to make yourself small just because someone else didn’t appreciate you.”

you blinked, taken aback by his tone, and for a moment, your guard slipped. but then again, you chuckled, brushing off his words with a playful smile, as if trying to lighten the mood. “megumi, you’re too serious sometimes,” you teased, reaching up to ruffle his dark hair, your expression warm but carrying a hint of something deeper, a sadness you still couldn’t quite shake away.

megumi looked back at you, his hand instinctively tightening around yours, and his voice came out low, steady, holding a softness that he rarely showed up until now. “i… actually thought you were funny the first time i saw you,” he murmured, his words tentative, as if hoping they might somehow shift your perspective, if only by a fraction. “and pretty, too,” he added, his eyes steady on you, willing for you to hear him. "really pretty".

you stood there, your gaze drifting up to meet his, and for a moment, you seemed to register the sincerity in his voice. but your smile wavered as if you couldn’t believe him. “you're tripping,” she laughed, waving it off, your voice light but carrying a trace of disbelief, as if his words were something foreign you couldn’t quite grasp.

“no no, i mean it,” he replied, his tone confident and his blue eyes unwavering. he took a small step closer, his hand reaching up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering there, brushing against your cheek. “i thought you were amazing from the start. and i still do.. and i probably ever will. there's so much more i still haven't discovered 'bout you, and it makes me wanna study you for the rest of my life”.

for a brief second, something flickered in your eyes—a vulnerability, maybe? a glimpse of the girl beneath the layers of defense you'd built. you looked at him, really looked at him, searching his face as if trying to find the truth in his words. nonetheless, as quickly as it appeared, the vulnerability faded, and you plastered on a smile, your walls snapping back up.

“thanks, gumi,” you said before leaning in to kiss his cheek, your tone light, almost playful, trying your drunken best to deflect the seriousness of the moment. “but really, it’s fine. i’m over it, i swear” you gave a small shrug, your voice tinged with a forced nonchalance that made his heart ache even more.

he let you laugh and deflect, but his mind was racing since he could understand the baggage you were trying so hard to release. all those scars left by past betrayals and insecurities hurt him more than he could ever put into words, especially because he came too late to prevent you from experiencing it. knowing that you weren't ready to confront those feelings, he didn’t push you any further, less in this state. instead, he simply stayed by your side, letting his presence speak for him, hoping that, over time, you’d begin to believe him. it really frustrated him, the way you downplayed your own worth, the way you brushed off your concerns as if they were something you simply had to endure. he knew you were stronger than you realized and also that you carried so much more beauty and light than you could ever see in yourself.

you stayed on the balcony a while longer, and though your expression remained casual, he could see the faintest hint of something deeper beneath your face, a shadow of the hurt you tried so hard to bury. he didn’t want to pry, didn’t want to push you beyond what you were willing to share, and decided to wait for you, so as you stood there, side by side, he silently vowed to show you, in every way he could, that you were worth more than the broken pieces you’d been led to believe you were.

when you finally made your way back inside, you sobered up, and your head rested on his shoulder as you walked. megumi wrapped an arm around you, holding you close as if to shield you from the doubts you carried. and though you might not remember much of your conversation come morning, he hoped that, on some level, you’d feel the weight of his words, that you would begin to see yourself through his eyes, if only just a little.

at that moment, megumi made a mental note to himself to keep reminding you of your worth and the love he held for you through every small gesture, every silent reassurance until the day he died. because even if he struggled to be expressive, you were worth every effort, every unspoken word, and every moment spent in quiet understanding.

the atmosphere shifted after your quiet conversation on the balcony, but your laughter was quick to fill the silence, your spirits as buoyant as ever as you headed back into the warm hum of the party. inside, the music now thumped louder, people clustered in lively groups, and the smell of smoke and drinks mingled in the air. once you saw the group again, you practically bounced back into the party with them, your arm linked with megumi's as you steered him toward with a radiant smile. you were joyfully unrestrained and had totally forgotten about what had you so petty a while ago, ringing out above the music as if your earlier words had been nothing more than a passing breeze.

megumi, however, found himself seeing you in a different mood, the weight of your confessions lingering at the back of his mind. he watched you as you laughed with your friends, your movements fluid yet slightly unsteady, your smile big and genuine. but he couldn’t shake the feeling in his chest; your words haunted him, your offhanded comments that told him more than you realized. you swayed closer to him now and then, your hand brushing his, and every time you looked up at him with that carefree grin, he felt the urge to lock you in a glass box and shield you from everything that had ever made you feel so small.

you suddenly grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the dance floor with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "come on! just one dance, please!" you pleaded, pouting just enough to make him sigh but follow willingly. it would be just for once, right? and how could he ignore his pretty girlfriend's contagious enthusiasm, her laughter spilling over as she twirled him around, not caring who was watching or how out of sync their movements were? megumi went along with you, a half-smile tugging at his lips as you spun and swayed, your arms stretching out wide like you were trying to embrace the whole world.

but beneath it all, he could see the vulnerability in you—how your laughter was a bit too loud, your smiles a bit too wide. every so often, your gaze would drift, your eyes unfocused for a fleeting second, and he knew you were miles away, lost in thoughts that were far from joyful. then, with a blink, you’d snap back, finding him again in the crowd, lighting up as if he were your anchor.

as the night wore on, both of your energies began to wane, your steps becoming even more unsteady, your phrases turning softer and a little slurred. megumi noticed the faint flush on your cheeks, the way you leaned into him more heavily with each passing moment, your body resting briefly on his as you cackled at something he didn’t quite catch.

“alright, i think we’ve had enough for one night,” he murmured gently, his voice barely audible over the music, though his words were more for himself than for you. after saying your goodbyes with everyone before they took their way home, he guided you towards the exit with one arm around your waist, trying his best to ignore the knowing glances from a few of your friends as they watched him support you. he could almost hear the teasing they’d throw at him the next day, but he didn’t care; all he wanted was to get you somewhere safe and quiet.

outside, the cool night air hit you, and you let out a content sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder with a soft smile. “you’re a good boyfriend, y’know that?” you murmured, your voice sleepy and muffled as you nuzzled closer to him. you giggled, clearly a little too tipsy and tired to remember half the things you’d said tonight, including your own heart-wrenching confessions. but you were blissfully unaware, your smile soft and genuine as you looked up at your boyfriend with half-lidded eyes.

megumi's heart twisted, and he gave a content sigh, gently brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “yeah? and you’re a good girlfriend”, he replied softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. he wanted to say more, wanted to tell you that he saw everything you tried to hide, but also that you didn’t need to pretend with him. he ended up holding back, not wanting to burden you in this moment.

as you walked, you swayed slightly, humming a tune under your breath, your head lolling from side to side. you rambled on about the night, recounting funny moments and half-remembered jokes, your words slurring just enough that he had to focus to keep up. but he listened to your every word, nodding and laughing with you in all the right places, his arm steady around you as he guided you along the sidewalk.

when you reached his car, you fumbled with the door handle, giggling as you struggled to open it until he gently nudged your hand away and opened it for you. you collapsed into the passenger seat with a satisfied exhale, stretching your arms above your head as you settled in, you eyes already beginning to droop. he watched you for a moment, taking in the soft, peaceful expression on your face, and he felt that same protective instinct rises within him, fierce and unrelenting.

sliding into the driver’s seat, he glanced over at you, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. you were half-asleep now, your head resting against the window, and he couldn’t help but reach out, giving you a slight peck on the top of your head. you stirred at his touch, blinking up at him with a drowsy smile.

“y'know, gumi,” you murmured, your words barely a whisper, “i’m really happy with you… like, really, really happy.”

his heart clenched, and genuinely smiled, his voice soft as he replied, “i’m happy with you too, y/n.” he wanted to say so much more, to tell you how deeply he cared, how much your words had affected him tonight, but since you wouldn’t remember it in the morning, he stayed shut and appreciated the moment.

as he drove, the city lights blurred past the car, and he glanced over at you now and then, his system relaxing as he saw you taking a little nap on the seat next to him. the way you had such an important conversation, how you two danced right after, and how you were peacefully asleep in his car, letting him drive you home late at night—it made him think. he realized that there was so much you probably kept hidden, so many feelings and thoughts you carried beneath your exterior, and he felt an overwhelming need to protect you from all the bad things in the world.

when they finally reached your apartment, he helped you out of the car, guiding you up the steps as you leaned heavily against him, your little sounds soft and sleepy. you fumbled for your keys, dropping them once before he gently took them from your hand, unlocking the door and leading you inside. you stumbled over to the couch, flopping down with a content sigh, almost falling asleep right again.

megumi knelt beside you, brushing a gentle hand over your cheek. “get some sleep, okay?” he murmured, his voice soft. and after noticing you weren't even considering going to your room, too worn out to move, he picked you up over his shoulder to take you to your bed. he carefully cleaned your makeup from your face, took off your clothes, and put on your pajamas before tucking you under the sheets.

as he watched you drift off, your breathing slow and even, he determined to stay by your side and help you in any way he could. he had no idea of how he would do it but was pretty sure he couldn’t just stand by and watch you suffer in silence. he had to be there, every step of the way, until you realized he was as serious as you to commit, no matter what it took. because you were totally worth it and you made him feel more than anyone had ever done before. he’d show you that you were his first choice, now and always.

megumi wasn’t planning to stay, but as he knelt beside you to give you a last goodnight kiss, your eyes fluttered open, just barely, and you reached out with a sleepy murmur. “stay, please?” you wish was soft, almost pleading, and even though he wasn’t sure at first, he just couldn’t say no to you.

a faint smile tugged at his lips as he nodded, whispering, “alright, i’ll stay for my pretty baby.” you sighed with relief, closing your eyes as you felt him settling into the bed, curling up like it was the most natural thing in the world to have him beside you. after making sure you were comfortable, he lied beside you, leaning back and watching as your breathing slowed again, your face in complete relaxation. a part of him considered moving to the armchair across your bedroom to give you space, but then you shifted, your hand reaching out instinctively to find his, your fingers brushing against his arm as you pulled him to hug you, like seeking the reassurance of his presence even in sleep. you both held a mutual grip that was soft but unmistakable, and it was almost as if you telepathically shared in your dreams how comforted you were by the closeness between each other. you murmured something incoherent in your sleep, a soft smile gracing your lips as you shifted even closer. he felt a wave of tenderness wash over him, sensing you like this, so vulnerable and peaceful. the noise and the lights of the party, the weight of everything—all of it felt like a distant memory in this quiet, cozy moment.

megumi stayed awake a while longer, simply watching over you as you slept. he couldn’t shake the feeling of knowing that you held such a distorted view of yourself. he still couldn't stop thinking about that. your casual words from earlier echoed in his mind. but truly, you were everything to him, and after all, genuine—he hated that someone had made you feel less than worthy.

eventually, the warmth and quiet pulled him under, and he found himself drifting off, his hand still resting near yours, your fingers just barely brushing against each other as he fell asleep cuddling you.

the morning sun filtered softly through the window, casting a gentle glow across the room. you stirred first, blinking groggily as you adjusted to the brightness, your head throbbing slightly from the previous night’s drinks. you closed your eyes for a moment, recalling bits and pieces of the party—the music, the laughter, megumi’s comforting presence… and then something more, a memory at the edge of your mind that felt both familiar and hazy. your face flushed as you remembered small fragments, wondering if you’d said anything embarrassing.

that's when you felt it—an arm resting near yours, warm and solid. you opened her eyes slowly again, your gaze falling on megumi beside you, still fast asleep. his face was relaxed, his usual guarded expression softened by sleep, and you couldn’t help but smile, watching him for a moment in the quiet. it was rare to see him like this, peaceful and ethereal, and a part of you felt grateful that he’d stayed for the night.

but then a pang of anxiety surfaced. did I say something? you wondered, bits of the night coming back in flashes. you remembered his face when you guys talked on the balcony, how he’d looked at you with an intensity you hadn’t quite understood in the moment. had you let something slip? had you told him about… that?

you bit her lip, cheeks warming with embarrassment, but before you could dwell too much, you felt him shift beside you, his eyes fluttering open. he looked at you, a bit groggy but immediately alert, his gaze softening when he saw you were already awake.

“morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

“morning,” you replied, your voice a bit softer than usual, still unsure if he remembered everything.

he sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck as he adjusted to being awake. “how are you feeling?” he asked, his tone gentle but perceptive as he tapped your forehead with his finger, like he was searching for something that would tell him about your state.

“im… not too bad, actually” you replied, managing a small smile. you looked away, your fingers absentmindedly picking at the fabric of the sheets, still trying to piece together the foggy memories from the night before.

your boyfriend watched you, noticing the way you seemed lost in thought, and he couldn’t help but reach out, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “baby…” he began, his voice soft but firm, “about last night…”

you tensed slightly, your gaze darting up to meet his. “oh god, did i… did i say something embarrassing, right?” you laughed nervously, brushing it off with a wave, while you couldn't look at him in the eyes from how your heart pounded as you waited for his response.

he paused, studying your face for a moment. “not embarrassing,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “but… you did say something that i don’t think you’d want me to just brush off.”

your smile faltered, and you glanced down, biting her lip. “megumi, i—” your started, but he interrupted you gently, his hand still resting on your shoulder.

“you don’t have to explain anything now,” he said softly. “it's just that… i need you to know that you don’t have to feel like that. whatever happened in the past, it doesn’t change the way i see you now and it's nothing like what we have at this moment”.

your eyes softened, your heart aching as you looked at him, realizing just how much he cared, even if you hadn’t meant for him to know everything. you wanted to laugh it off, to make light of it like you usually did, but something about his gaze told you that he wouldn’t let you deflect this time.

“thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper as you met his eyes. you felt your throat tighten, the weight of your past bubbling up as you tried to push it back, but his gaze anchored you, reminding you that you weren't alone in this. "thank you for being mine..."

he reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “thank you for being mine. i’ll be here whenever you’re ready to talk, okay? no pressure.”

you managed a small smile, squeezing his hand back. “i… i appreciate that, gumi,” you responded, wavering slightly. and for this time, you allowed yourself to believe it—believe that maybe, just maybe, you were worth the kindness the world offered. that you deserved the caring and love megumi gave you.

it was all still fragile— the slow building trust between you, the comfort of his presence, the trust you had on yourself as a partner. fragile. but so it was now the fear of being replaced, because as you sat there in silence, your hand still in his, the weight of every bad memory suddenly felt a little lighter, held together by the understanding and sweet amenity between the quiet morning and who you were now sure, was the love of your life.

a/n: okkk this will be long!! first able, i need to apologize for announcing an angstober only for me to didn't even start it 😭😭 i was really excited for that project but a month ago i suddenly became a functional member of society bc i got called for this student federation team at my uni, got into this research project of bioinformatics and even got called to expose for a congress about some drawings i did to communicate science?? with literal professionals?? as a stem girlie i'm like HONORED but as an individual i'm honestly so tired and i'm so sorry for that... however, i still wanna take care of all the 31 drafts i have on this app so i'll be posting them but i assure you this WILL take long lmao. i post this as a little gift and because i reaaaally wanted to show it off soon. hope you let me know your thoughts on the comments. thank you for all the new people here (and the ones who stayed for a whole month), and i hope you enjoy this as much as i do! xx

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Chapter 35

Lady Luck by My Side

Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Shanks x Fem!Reader x ???

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 10.2k+

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Chapter Tunes: Luck Be a Lady (Dezio Rezio) ~ The Atomic Beat Ranchers | Feel So Numb ~ Rob Zombie

Summary: Buggy deals with your heavy words, while Crocodile and Mihawk fight for you in their own, desperate ways. You are making the best of your situation, and if you could avoid your uncle's wicked words, you might even end up enjoying yourself. If you're lucky, of course.

Ch. 34 Recap: I've decided to put the recap directly below the cut in case anyone sees this post before getting to the last chapter. It's a bit more detailed than usual, and I vehemently detest spoilers. I refuse to watch trailers for movies I plan to watch 😂 I don't even like writing summaries, so I keep them vague. Hope you don't mind!

Author's Note: I have missed y'all so very much, I can't begin to describe 😭💜 I won't get into my disappearing act here, but I'll share some details below the chapter if you're interested, and I'll probably make a life update post about it later. Now that I finally have the time, energy, and health, to write again, I just want to write Numbers Game!

Dark Content Warning: Dark Content is bracketed with ~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~ and summaries are bracketed with ~⚫️~SUMMARY~⚫️~ directly below the scenes, so that you won’t miss the story if you need to not be in the BIG FEELS of the scenes. Please take care of yourself, you are not alone! 💜

~ 1st ⚫ ~ PLEASE DO NOT READ this section if severe mental illness, episodes, treatment, or neglect could be triggering for you.

~ 2nd ⚫ ~ PLEASE DO NOT READ this section if mental illness treatment, doctors, or panic attacks, might be triggering for you.

Also, I hope everyone remembers the tag/warning: Cross Guild Boys are VILLAINS. It’s been there since day one, so 🤷‍♀️

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic currently contains spoilers for up to chapter 1064 or episode 1093. As we get further into Egghead Arc where our lovely boys are showing up more, there will be more spoilers as time goes on. Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers small details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Mental Illness, Grief, Hospitals, Doctors, Mental Health Treatment, Toxic Family, Childhood Trauma, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Relationship Drama, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Uncle Cedrick Has Become His Own Warning, Death of an Unnamed Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

Chapter 34 Recap: You struggled with your varied feelings for the hunters that fought for the chance to be your owner, surprised that you didn't hate them all. You discovered that Fukaboshi was a truly good man who knew that you'd be sending him away soon, and that Katakuri was far sweeter than he looked.

Mihawk discovered that his little rabbit's plight was being broadcast beyond the Oak Roots Estate, and his rage made him dirty his blade.

Former member's of Baroque Works, Zala and Marianne, reported back from Dr. Vorsan's asylum. Buggy fought against it at first, but Crocodile begged to watch the encrypted recordings they had found so that he could help his sweet girl. He saw her at fifteen years old, being restrained and drugged in that asylum after her father passed, and he demanded to see the next recording.

You lied to your sister about your feelings toward the Cross Guild, telling her that they were monsters, and you never wanted to see them again. You wanted to make her happy, so you'd keep up your smile, just like you had for your dad when you were little. You would pretend for her.

Chapter 35 ~ Lady Luck by My Side

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

Had it been hours? Years since he’d started watching? 

There was nothing but the tears in her eyes, nothing but the futile sobs he could do nothing to stop. 

‘Let me see my sister!’

‘Sweetie, you’re not ready yet. You need to get well first.’

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

‘I’m not sick, mom,’ his sweet girl begged, strapped to a table while her mother stood too far back to comfort her. ‘Just let me see Kitty, please. I need to see her. ‘

‘You need to focus on getting better,’ Delaine’s voice shifted, expertly condescending with a loving tone. 

Crocodile did not fucking like this woman. 

‘Sweetie, do you remember what happened? Do you remember what you did,’ Delaine prodded. Y/N’s face crumpled, sobbing while her worthless mother stood in silence.

‘It was an accident,” the fifteen-year-old girl pleaded while she struggled against her restraints.

‘I found you with that snail, Y/N, and I’m certain you would have killed the poor thing if I hadn’t found you when I did,’ Delaine scolded. Crocodile was going to gut this bitch for making her daughter cry like this. ‘I’m just grateful that it was me, I can’t imagine how your... It’s not your fault, of course. Arbo was always selfish, and now he’s made you sick. I’m sorry, honey, but it’s just not safe for Kathryn to be around you until you get well.’

‘Please, mom. Please listen to me,’ she whimpered, her body going weak, trembling. 

‘Just listen to the doctor, alright? I know you don’t want to hurt anyone, but you’re sick, honey. You need to— ‘

‘I need you to fucking LISTEN!’

Delaine froze for a moment before turning away, heading toward the door. She walked closer to the cam-snail on her way out, and her eyes looked way too fucking dry. 

Crocodile’s rage-filled thoughts were swept away by that young girl’s screams. 

‘Mom, please, don’t leave me! Don’t let them— ‘

~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~

~~~

~⚫️~SUMMARY~⚫️~

The scene above is from Crocodile’s POV while he watched a recording of the reader in the asylum when she was fifteen. 

Her mother, Delaine, was present, and the reader stated that she wasn’t sick, and begged to see her little sister. 

Delaine replied that it wasn’t safe for Kathryn to see her until she was well again and asked if the reader recalled what she did to the snail. The reader said that it was an accident, and asked Delaine to listen. 

Delaine stated that she thought the reader would have killed the snail if Delaine hadn’t found her in time, and blamed Arbo’s selfishness for making the reader sick. She denied the reader's request again. 

The reader yelled for her mother to listen, however, Delaine walked out, and Crocodile felt rage for how dry her eyes were. The reader screamed for her mother not to leave her, not to let them– (the last line cut off).

~⚫️~SUMMARY~⚫️~

~~~

Y/N’s cries were cut short, the image of her teary face going blurry before the transmission cut out completely. 

Crocodile had already destroyed all the furniture, so he crawled through the debris toward the smaller snail, answering the call before he had time to make it. 

“Sir— “

“Finish the recording,” he threatened. “It wasn’t done, send it again.”

“The white snail passed out, sir,” Zala reported, her voice shaking almost as much as his fist. “I think that was too much for it all at once. It needs time to recover before we can send any more encrypted data.”

Crocodile could hear his teeth grinding together, but he kept still enough to speak a few words.

“Make sure it’s ready tomorrow.”

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

Buggy felt somehow empty, and too full at the same time. His mind was too full of those vicious words his star had hissed, too full of fear and guilt over what to do about them. 

“Secrets keep fucking shit up,” the clown murmured, pacing again. 

It was just a lie. Star was lying to her sister.

It had been some damn good acting though, and Buggy hated the doubts it stirred in him. He couldn’t stuff them down. 

I know she loves me, but could she really hate them? I could have sworn she… 

Why ya gotta be such a good actor, baby? 

Or maybe I’m just the selfish piece of shit that didn’t listen. I was too fucking distracted by that shithead. I wasn’t paying attention to you, Star, I just—

He gave a light yelp when the snail interrupted the constant beat of her heart, grateful to be distracted now while he floated toward Crocodile’s desk. 

“Howdy,” Buggy coughed, perking up at the low chuckle that greeted him. 

“Hello, little clown.”

“What’s up, crybaby?”

Mihawk’s voice sent chills across his skin, but all the clown could think about were those hateful words.

Murderers.

Monsters.

“Is that Crocodile,” the swordsman asked after a particularly loud crash echoed down the hall. “I have some news to report.”

“He’s watching…”

“Is he watching the feed?”

Now Mihawk’s voice chilled his blood.

“What feed?”

“I’m handling it,” his new lover tried and failed to soothe him. “Why don’t you two call me in the morning? I need to find a new room for the night anyway.”

“Why do you need— “

“How is she?”

Mihawk’s voice cracked just a bit, his desperation pushing through the relaxed front he’d clearly been holding up. 

“Same. Finally sleeping,” Buggy rasped, clenching his eyes shut at the spike of a headache. “I’m gonna read my notes again, I think she said something…  Crocodile might have something too, so we’ll call you tomorrow.”

…

“Mihawk?”

“You’ll tell me if she’s being hurt?”

“Yeah, I said I would.”

“And you’ll call me if she says she doesn’t want to be there? I don’t care if she whispers it in her sleep, Buggy, I’ll get her out. If she gives even the slightest opening, you’ll call me?”

…

“Bug— “

“Of course I will,” Buggy promised. It wasn’t a lie. 

“Thank you. Get some rest, little clown.”

“You too, crybaby.”

Buggy stared blankly at the snail after the call until the near constant crashing and yelling down the corridor got louder. And closer. 

His feet followed as fast as they could, but the rest of him charged into the banquet hall in time to see the terrifying sight of Sir Crocodile’s rage. The door to the conference room had been ripped off its hinges, and Buggy was caught in the other doorway, the urge to run held back only by the horror of what that frightening man might have seen.

Star… 

Crocodile was alternating between smashing through tables and chairs with his hook, and draining them with his hand, leaving waves of splinters and sand to spill across the gleaming floor.

Until he made it to the head table. 

“Hey boss, you really gonna wreck the best table in this shithole?” 

Buggy had floated his upper body slightly above the other man’s head. He wasn’t stupid enough to put himself in between Crocodile and his fury, no matter how many memories that table held.

The clown almost fell from the air when those frantic, silver eyes met his. 

“Is she still crying?”

“N-no… She’s sleeping.”

Crocodile fell to his knees, the tears on his scarred face slow and unsteady, as though they’d never traveled there before. Buggy brought himself together and did what he knew had to be a stupid thing. 

He hugged the raging man, embracing this villain that had destroyed so much.

“I can’t… can’t leave her there, Buggy,” Crocodile panted into the crook of his neck. He nearly brought the clown to the floor with the amount of weight he rested on him.  

“Don’t worry,” Buggy strained through his hold, “we’ve got her.”

The larger man crushed him against his chest, sucking down his tears before he started to offer comfort instead of taking it. Buggy made a show of accepting that comfort, knowing that he’d never be a better actor than his shining star. 

Can’t tell ‘em. Can’t risk it. 

The image of Crocodile and Mihawk collapsing in defeat at the party after Y/N had thrown her cruel words burned through his mind.  

I know you’re lying, baby. You’re just a good actor. 

Don’t wanna distract these idiots. They don’t know you like I do. 

He tried to let go of his guilt, but those words played on a loop. 

‘I don’t ever want to see those murderers— those monsters again.’

It wasn’t true. 

It was a lie. 

Buggy knew it was a lie.

It was a lie. Right, baby? 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

The other men pushed and shoved each other when the scavenger hunt began, but Shanks had to hold himself back from the race. This one wouldn’t win him another date, and close contact with the other suitors had been pushing his self-control to its limit.

He’d always been able to let insults slide when it came to himself, when it was only words, but Shanks couldn’t recall this suffocating feeling.

This entire hunt was an insult, a torture made just for Y/N, and everyone here was having a lovely time using her. 

Shanks could feel himself about to snap, and only his surety that it wouldn’t help her stayed his hand. 

She couldn’t show her own rage, and it would be stupid and selfish to show his.

So, the red haired pirate sat this hunt out, staring at the old man that had weaseled his way beside her.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

What was the theme today? Creating love? Finding my heart? Uncle really should have hired a showrunner for this shit. 

By gods, you were bored. And having “Gibby” at your side was only making your condition worse. 

“These young bucks sure do like to show off,” he teased, leaning his bony shoulder against yours, the scent of whiskey nearly knocking you out. “But I know what a sharp girl like you craves.”

“And what’s that, Gibby,” you flirted. 

It would be so easy to kill him, wouldn’t it? Just a good punch to the throat would probably end this old man. But that would be it. So many eyes… He’s not worth it. 

“A challenge of course,” he announced as though revealing a delightful trick. “You want to use your talents. All these little boys want is a little wife.”

“Oh,” you arched a brow, “and what do you want?”

The creep pinched your cheek. Even with your renewed determination, pretending was fucking rough. 

“I want Lady Luck by my side, of course.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

How many… Do lives or liters of blood count for more? Those lives are nothing but—

“Mihawk?”

“I’m here.”

Crocodile’s voice was off. If not for his trained sense of hearing, Mihawk would have believed that voice belonged to someone else. 

But it was him. His daddy. His brutal business partner that was too sweet on their former victims. 

“You go first, crybaby,” Buggy threatened, bringing a tiny smile to the swordsman’s lips. 

“Sylvad’s little game has an illegal broadcast,” Mihawk shared lightly, pretending it was fine. “Underground gambling rings are holding showings every night for an impressive fee. The show appears to be isolated to the surrounding island kingdoms, but that’s probably wishful thinking.”

The silence was torturous for them all, holding nothing but impotent rage. 

Mihawk stretched his neck, removing his hat to keep it from scraping against the dusty walls. He’d found a lovely, little shed to lie in wait in until his prey were all lined up. 

“I’ll be attending a showing tonight, so I should be able to watch the hunt. I’ll study the layout, and hopefully I’ll see something that you aren’t able to hear.”

“So, we’re all spying on her now,” Buggy sighed. The sound was so animated; Mihawk could see those shoulders slumping in his mind. 

He didn’t know when he’d gotten so used to these men in his life. 

“Wait,” he interrupted his own thoughts. “Crocodile, if you weren’t watching the feed last night, what were you watching?”

“He can’t tell us,” Buggy said, his voice gentle, but pained. “Recordings of Y/N at the asylum. Croc’s poky, lady agent, and the scary, little girl nicked them for us. “

Mihawk’s blood froze in his veins as the memory of her flashed in his mind. His rabbit had looked so beautiful that last day. Beautiful, but wrong. 

“Crocodile?”

…

“Can you tell us anything yet, boss? Daddy?”

“Just a kill list,” Crocodile rasped, and Mihawk realized what that tone in his voice was. 

Despair. 

“I haven’t finished watching yet. Just waiting on the snail. She wouldn't want me to hurt the snail…”

“Okie dokie,” Buggy loudly redirected, the sound of awkward pats coming through. “Star said something to her sister when she was crying last night. I think Asshole Charmer was right, she’s trying to protect Kat from something.”

“What did— “

“She said, ‘I left you,” Buggy rushed before either man finished asking, the strain in his voice ramping up. “Then she lied again. Told Kat she wanted to be there.”

“They wouldn’t let her see her sister,” Crocodile breathed, a distance in his words that had nothing to do with the ocean between them. 

“So, we have to find out what Kathryn Sylvad needs protection from,” the swordsman hummed. “When our little rabbit showed us her fangs, she mentioned the Celestial— “

“Kat said Uncle LimpDick can’t sell her anymore though. She’s too old for those creeps.” 

“But Y/N didn’t know that until she got to the estate. If that’s why she left, then we can—” 

Hope had crept into Crocodile’s voice, and it was almost more painful to hear, especially when it was killed so quickly.

“She could have gotten out with the merman yesterday,” Buggy reminded him, his usual frustration seeming muted. Anger was still present, but it was wrapped up in softer, sadder things while he caught Mihawk up on the prince’s offer. “Star’s acting like a fucking martyr.”

“It’s gotta be the doctor. Sylvad said something about the fucking doctor before she left us,” Crocodile trailed off, leaving them all to sink into the memory of that night. “That’s who she fears.”

“Then that’s who dies first.” 

That dusty, little shed became a cage, the monster within him nearly tearing through it at the thought of blood. 

“Wait,” his clown commanded. 

He obeyed. 

“You can’t just run in there and kill everyone on your own now. You have to protect both of them. We need a plan.”

This silence was full of caution, but it held the taste of possibilities. 

The swordsman wanted to sever his own tongue for dashing that new hope so soon. 

“We can’t force them. If her sister wants to keep that stifled life, then Y/N won’t forgive us for ripping her from it.” 

Mihawk sighed, remembering the rage on his darling’s face so clearly. It might be the only face of hers that he’d be worthy of seeing again. 

“So, I’m still our last resort. I’ll take her hate for you, Buggy.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Buggy groaned. “We know more than we did before, so we just need to keep looking. We’re gonna get her back. You got that, shitheads?”

How strange to recognize the sound of a hug. Buggy’s little hum of surprise, followed by a soft sigh that had to be from Crocodile’s lips, hit Mihawk with a wave of heat. The sensation built up in his throat until he shook it off.

Y/N wouldn't be the only thing he’d lose if he stole her away. The World’s Greatest Swordsman would lose this strange, little home he’d found with this strange, little guild.

“You got it, boss,” Mihawk teased. 

“Shut up.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. President,” Crocodile joined in.

The swordsman smiled in that dusty shed, pretending for a moment that this strange, little home he’d found would still be his. 

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Giberson never shut the fuck up, so you hadn’t caught most of the scavenger hunt, but soon enough, Uncle Cedrick was announcing the winner.

“There are no rules against hunters helping each other win,” he teased while the Vinsmoke brothers walked toward you. Ichiji was carrying a large wooden heart, a few missing pieces of the puzzle held in the losers’ hands, but he held the most. 

Apparently, the younger brothers had given their pieces to the oldest prince, flanking him as they all knelt before you. 

“I’m looking forward to showering you with many more gifts,” he smirked, smoothing his fingers over yours when he placed that wooden heart in your lap. “Gifts worthy of a princess.”

Cheesy. Cocky. His brothers’ lecherous stares weren’t helping.

But I might as well enjoy it, you thought, gifting him with a coy smile.

 

~~~

This opulent room had always been too ridiculously large to be the family game room, especially since you’d only play with your dad, or your sister, never both. Dad always had some work to take care of when Kat asked to play, and Mom never liked board games.

At least someone’s still playing games in here. 

“Come here, sugar,” Giberson pulled you along, looking healthier than you’d seen him so far. “You ever played Blackjack?”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

“Hit me.”

“Is that an order, sir?”

Crocodile chuckled, feeling loose for a rare moment while he smirked at the woman across the table. Rain Dinners was as vibrant as ever, a stolen oasis that he planned to grow. The casino pulsed with greed, but a quiet air seemed to fall over the two of them.

“No orders at the table, sweetheart. You know that.”

Fuck. 

This woman’s silence always held an itching weight, that little smile making him narrow his eyes. He was the one that had slipped up. No time for that. 

Not until his work was done. 

“Hm, it looks like a bust for both of us, sir. I hope your orders don’t land us in a similar position,” she taunted in that airy voice of hers, as though her thoughts were merely floating through space, drifting by with no fault of her own. Yet her eyes sparkled.

Crocodile ignored how much he liked it when they did that. 

“Have a little faith, Miss All Sunday,” he grinned, the noise of the casino drowned out by her soft chuckle, her haunted eyes filling with a hard edge, a challenge. “Don’t you trust me? We’re gonna build a better world together.”

Her soft chuckle turned to outright laughter, the pretty sound bringing more eyes to their elevated table. That beautiful face tilted back, and the brim of her white hat shifted enough to let the glittering lights touch her skin. 

He paused to watch her, knowing that he was distracted. Knowing that she was an agent, that he couldn’t risk losing his balance until he’d met his goal. 

This girl is nothing but an asset. That’s all anyone is until I’m done. 

“Come, Crocodile, you and I both know that trust can be a fatal mistake. I know you didn’t bring me here for false promises, and I would leave if I thought you’d become such a sentimental fool.”

Soft hands sprouted from the table before him, lighting his cigar, and holding it to his lips while he gave a few gentle puffs. Those taunting eyes never strayed from his.

“You know me too well,” he laughed, taking a larger sip of scotch than he’d meant to. This asset of his had many uses, and interesting company was becoming too much of a favorite. “What kind of world do you wanna build when we get there?”

The way she stared at him… It was as though she was right there, seeing deep into the core of him, yet somehow distant. No matter how much time she spent by his side, they were always light years apart. 

“Are you feeling sentimental, boss?”

“Not at all,” Crocodile snorted before downing the rest of his drink. He motioned for another round but couldn’t shake off the sticky feeling of her knowing gaze. 

She’s right. What the fuck am I doing? Can’t think like this. Not yet. 

Nico Robin smirked while her many hands gathered the cards, dealing a fresh game. Crocodile found himself feeling proud of her practiced distance, but had to fight harder than he should have to keep from tugging at it. 

Trust is worthless in a world like this. 

“Well, boss?”

“Hit me.”

So, I’ll make a better world. 

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Everything was shining. Unlike most casinos, the shine in your family’s estate wasn’t just for show. 

It was another world. The glamor, the music, and the liquor seemed to hypnotize the crowd. Time was a commodity here, seconds falling away like the chips on the table. 

You might have been drawn in if you hadn’t been squeezed into this slinky, sequined dress. Viridian green sparkled under the lights, and it wasn’t as uncomfortable as you’d thought it would be. Still fucking distracting though. 

I wonder what his casino was like. Would he have liked this dress? He did prefer scales over—

Stop.

You almost asked why Giberson had foregone his private date for this public display but decided not to risk giving him the opening to take you somewhere else. He dragged a velvet covered stool close beside him before wrapping his frail arm around your shoulders, pulling you as close to his side as possible. 

Your smile stayed pretty under the golden lights, even as the sounds of the small casino bombarded you. All the hunters, and more guests than you’d seen here before, watched your every move when they weren’t losing berry. 

“What’d ya say, darlin,” he winked, nodding toward the cards on the table. “Should I risk it?”

At least there’s something for me to focus on. 

“Hit me,” he declared when you nodded, whistling and jostling you when he hit twenty one. “I knew I had a good feeling about you.”

“Is this why you’re here, Gibby? I’m sure you realize that my husband won’t need to gamble to be swimming in berry.”

Those words should not have left your lips. You didn’t need the nearest cam-snail’s drooping eyes to tell you that, but you couldn’t take it back. Playing up the flirtation was all you could think of to salvage it. 

The old man raised a brow at you, chuckling at your fluttering lashes.

“You are a sweet, devilish thing, aren’t you, dear?”

Your denial died on your tongue when your eyes got caught across the room, your red-haired prey staring hard at the hand Giberson had brought to your chin. 

This old man deserved your gratitude for tilting your face away from those soft, brown eyes. 

“I am many things, Gibby,” you purred. “And I am sure that you should stand.”

“I’ve gotta listen to my Lady Luck,” he laughed, wiggling your shoulders to show you off to the leeches at the table. 

“Isn’t that cheating,” one of them mumbled, earning a sickly, sweet smile from your lips. 

“All is fair in love and war,” you teased, tapping the felt-covered table with one of Giberson’s many chips. “Besides, card counters have to watch a game for longer than I’ve been at the table. It was just a lucky guess.”

Oh, how you ached to smash that entitled asshole’s face onto the shining table.

“You’re one to talk, Linus,” Giberson leaned around you to smirk at the man. The scent of liquor on his breath hit you like a train. “I believe you’re on mistress number three, aren’t you? Or what should we call this newest one, a boy toy? I suppose if Annie knows, then it’s not cheating, but either way, I’m sure she knows now.”

Linus’ face went from annoyance to horror impressively fast when he glanced at the very not-droopy snail on the table, and you bit your lip to keep from laughing. 

The man snarled, barely shifting toward you before Uncle’s security guards snatched him away. 

“Poor Linus,” you sighed while you shook your head. The satisfaction that warmed your skin only proved your self-hating thoughts, but it was more entertaining than being empty. 

Everyone here is a leech. Gorging on my blood and humiliation, eating me alive so they can feel more alive for a while. Fuck them all.

“Don’t worry about him,” your date pulled you back toward the game, “Annie’s been sleeping with his mother since their wedding night, so I’m sure she won’t be too broken up over it.”

You laughed enough that when he bought a bottle and poured you both a shot, you drank the burning whiskey. 

After he drank his first, of course. 

Then you won him lots of berry and giggled while he whispered secrets about all those shining guests in your ear. 

Maybe this old man isn’t so boring after all.

Laughing, and winning, and numbing it all down felt so good. If only you could rid yourself of those stupid, brown eyes that stuck to you more than the old man’s weak hand on your sequined thigh. 

“Do you know anything about— “

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Giberson hummed, filling your glass again. He nodded toward the red-haired pirate in the corner before shaking his head. “Afraid I can’t talk about the competition. I’d like to survive long enough to see the end of this delightful game.”

~~~

The corridors were endless. You’d traveled them so many times as a kid, but never quite like this.

Never drunk, in stupid, pointy heels that got caught in the plush carpet, while annoying servants tried to grab your elbows every time you swayed. 

It was fine. 

It was stupid.

But you weren’t even mad at yourself for being so reckless. Apathy could save or ruin you in a place like this. 

All you wanted was to feel nothing. There were many kinds of numb to find, but this particular buzz was wearing off too fast.

You had kept up your smile, and the bells had rung before you lost your mind to liquor. Yet now that the wall of eyes wasn’t on you, that liquor felt thick in your veins, and you needed to scream. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

“I’m sorry, Miss Sylvad, but— “

“I’ll take it from here. We wouldn’t want any more accidents now, would we, niece?”

You blinked, and the staff had already scurried away, leaving you alone with him.

“My little smarty,” Uncle Cedrick teased, digging his fingers into your arm while he guided you toward your suite. “Finally contributing to the family, after all these years. You almost had me believing that you’d like to marry that old bastard.”

“It’s too early to tell.”

Damn it…

A different kind of numb pulled you down while your gaze trailed down his face. 

His jaw is moving a lot. It’s okay. No, not the lips. Jaw. Eyes are too much. Can’t look up. Just down. Can’t look away. 

Fuck, I’m dizzy.

“He was never in the running anyway. The nuisance learned about the hunt and asked to join, and I couldn’t risk insulting the man.”

All the words were hitting your wobbly brain, a headache building behind your brow until you gasped at his sudden touch. Your uncle gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze in the darkened hallway. 

“You’re going to send the old man away tomorrow, and the fishman the day after that. You may be a selfish brat, but you’re still a Sylvad. It wouldn’t do to let you get stuffed full of expired seed, or guppies, now, would it?”

His eyes flared with satisfaction when you couldn’t hide the horror and disgust that twisted your features. You were trapped, gulping down your bile while he leaned over you, gripping tighter. 

“Keep up the good work, niece,” Uncle hummed while he tilted you toward your door. “Now go wash up. Whiskey isn’t a flattering scent on a blushing bride.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

There was no point in fixing the conference room. Any replacement furniture would have been shattered the second he saw those tear-filled eyes on the screen. 

A makeshift door had been propped up for privacy, although there was no one but Buggy within range of Crocodile’s rage. 

That pathetic, useless rage that left the scarred man sitting on the floor in a pile of splinters and sand again, fighting not to drink. Not yet, at least. 

“Good evening, sir.”

“Is it ready,” Crocodile rasped, not ready for the answer.

“I believe so, sir,” Zala reported, her lovely voice too somber to be soothing. “The next cam-snail’s date is a bit smudged, so I’m not certain the timing is right. We’re trying to send them in order— “

“Just send it.”

…

“Agent?”

“Of course, sir,” the deadly woman breathed, strangely soft through the line. “Do you have orders for us when we arrive? We still have over a week, but it could be two days less if we— “

“Await your orders,” Crocodile growled, more at his own powerlessness than her questioning.

“Of course,” Zala conceded, sharing her next words in a rush before ending the call. “We’ll get her back, sir. I won’t fail again.”

~~~

For a cruel moment, Crocodile’s breath caught in hope. His sweet girl looked better. 

He should have known better. 

‘How are you feeling today, Y/N?’

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

‘I’m feeling well, thank you, doctor,’ she hummed softly, keeping her eyes low, although the doctor was still offscreen. A nurse guided her to sit, no restraints holding her to the table this time. 

‘Are you ready to begin?’

‘Yes, doctor.’

His girl was empty. Poised and polite with nothing inside. 

They made a doll out of her.

‘Just breathe, Y/N,’ Dr. Vorsan instructed, his slippery voice making Crocodile’s fingers twitch. ‘The snail won’t hurt you, and you aren’t going to hurt it.’

‘Of course, I won’t–’

‘Soft hands, Y/N,’ he warned while she unclenched her jaw and fists. 

A transponder snail was placed on the table before her, and her eyes went slow and droopy while she stared at it. 

‘We discussed this, Y/N.’ The doctor clicked his tongue while the nurse reached for the snail. Y/N shook herself but stopped before her hand got too close to the creature.

Her eyes were wide now, her panicked breaths loud enough for him to hear all these years later. 

‘I’m sorry, please,’ Y/N strained, going empty again while she pleaded. ‘I’m okay. I want to call my sister.’

‘Are you sure you’re ready,’ Vorsan needled. That voice was so perfectly kind, yet violent. It was a syringe that promised healing, but forced too much, poisoning with what seemed like a cure. ‘Take your time, Y/N. If you push yourself too far, you might have another episode, and I know you don’t want to put your family through that. You don’t want to hurt–’

‘I want to be well, doctor.’

Wrong. So, fucking wrong. 

‘Please, let me try again,’ Y/N begged, her sweet voice placating the monster out of view. ‘I’ll breathe and go slow. I want to get better.’

The nurse brought the snail back, and Crocodile couldn’t tell how much time passed while she stared at it. Her eyes were present, yet he could see the strain, her almost-smile shaking a bit. 

“What the fuck?”

The fucking snail had started ringing, and Y/N’s scream made him choke. She struggled to swallow it down, rocking in her seat until the nurse reached out to take it. She took in a breath when she reached out instead to answer, that sickening smile on her face. 

‘Hey, smarty.’

Crocodile’s hook dug deep lines along the floor. 

‘I heard you were practicing with the snail today, so I thought I’d help out. We all want you back home, safe and sound. Although, I suppose it’s not your safety we should be worrying about.’

If not for the slow shine of unspilled tears that grew in her eyes, Crocodile would have thought the recording had paused. She was frozen, until she flinched at his next words. 

‘I should probably check on little Kathryn. I told them not to sail this close to Aqua Laguna, but you know how stubborn–’

‘You’re lying,’ she screamed, spittle flying toward the snail before nurses appeared to restrain her. ‘Let me talk to my sister!’

‘Oh dear, you don’t sound very well, niece. I hope–’

‘Fuck you! Where’s Kat? Let me see my– Get your fucking hands off of me! I’m gonna kill…’

Cedrick Sylvad’s laughter creeped through the air, the transponder snail carrying that vile sound through space and time. 

Y/N had gone still, letting the nurses entangle their arms with hers, trapping her between them while they called nonsensical orders to each other in bland voices. 

She didn’t cry. 

Didn’t apologize. 

Didn’t fight. 

She looked like she’d been defeated, and Sylvad’s gloating laughter proved the point. 

‘I hope you get well soon, niece,” her uncle taunted. ‘I’ll tell your sister you’re not ready yet, once she gets back. Hopefully she makes it before the storm hits.’

Crocodile’s sweet girl slumped, her body going limp while so many others held her up. Cedrick Sylvad’s laughter ripped through the air until she was carted away, and the wall went dark. 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~

The scene above was from Crocodile’s POV as he watched another recording of Y/N at the asylum. During this recording, Crocodile noticed that the reader appeared to be “better.” However, the prodding voice of Dr. Vorsan, and the reveal of a transponder snail showed that the reader was struggling to maintain her “doll-like” emptiness. The reader expressed a desire to speak with her sister, and was cooperating with the doctor, although he scolded her and reminded her of the potential violence she may cause. The reader remained calm and requested to try speaking with the snail again. The snail rang unexpectedly, and her uncle began to speak through it, causing the reader to become afraid, then react violently when Cedrick stated that her sister was currently sailing close to the time of the Aqua Laguna storm. The reader began to yell and threaten violence, until she looked defeated while her uncle laughed. The reader went limp while nurses restrained her and carried her away before the recording ended. 

~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Leave her alone, Uncle,” Kat seethed, charging into the hall to pull you from his grasp. 

“I’m just making sure she gets home safe,” he teased, clicking his tongue before releasing you. “Looks like big sis needs your help tonight. Aren’t you relieved that you won’t have to be her babysitter for much longer?”

“Fuck you— “

“It’s alright, Kitty,” you smiled, fighting your shaking muscles, and the nausea that flooded your body. “You got any snacks in your suite?”

“Ta-ta,” Uncle Cedrick smirked, thankfully walking away. 

Leaving you with her.

Fuck. I’m making her take care of me again. Selfish. Piece of shit. Stop.

“What kind of snacks do you want,” Kat frowned. Her eyes were sharp against your swaying form, but you held up your smile for her. 

“Salty. Crunchy.”

“Alright, drunky,” she rolled her eyes, “will you drink some fucking water first?”

~~~

Gods, it’s bright. Smile. Don’t forget to smile.

“Are you feeling well, niece?”

Uncle Cedrick beamed down at you, guiding you to the fallen tree in the courtyard, where the applause that greeted you made you want to chop your fucking ears off. The ungodly amount of coffee you’d inhaled during the breakfast with Giberson had been for naught, and you couldn’t recall any of the long winded stories he’d trampled you with. 

There’d be no more of his stories for you after this.

“Good afternoon, fine friends and hunters,” he addressed the crowd, and the suitors lined up along the carved bench. His practiced movements spread large across the side of the manor for all to see. You caught him glancing at his image on the projector screen enough times that you almost laughed. 

It probably would have hurt to laugh right now. 

“Before today’s hunt begins, I’m afraid that one of our contestants has missed the mark.”

Uncle pulled an arrow from the quiver at his back. He pressed the point of it to your chest, making the leeches gasp with mock fear or delight before he broke it in half.

“Go on, dear niece,” he ordered, pressing the splintered wood into your hand. “Who failed to pierce your heart?”

Don’t let it in. Nothing matters. Just her.

Fading into yourself, you put on a show, avoiding the sight of your simpering smile on the wall. Tittering noises filled the air while the wooden platform moved you from suitor to suitor, and you could hear the vultures calling out their last-minute bets.

You put on a good show, but eyes were too much. An inch below their left eye. That’s where you’d look while you paused. 

No favorites. No least favorites.

The moving platform wasn’t helping your nausea, or it might have been the scent of the Emperor whose crooked smile was almost as abhorrent to look at as his soft eyes. 

The painfully slow display finally came to a halt, the stench of whiskey still too fresh in your mind. 

The old man hadn’t been that bad though. 

“I’m sorry, Gibby. Your arrow didn’t pierce my heart.”

He took the broken arrow, before kissing your forehead, his mustache scratching along your skin. 

“Not to worry, my dear,” Giberson soothed, humming at the noises of the winners and losers in the crowd. From the sound of it, he’d been an underdog in the race anyway. “I feel lucky just to be here at all. Thank you for the lovely company.”

You needed to sit down. 

You had to keep smiling.

“Of course, Gibby,” your uncle shmoozed, gripping Giberson by the shoulder. He appeared to be speaking to the failed hunter, but his voice was too clear, his words too pointed.

Another part of the show.

“You may not be in the running to be our family, but you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t a friend of the Sylvad’s,” Uncle Cedrick glowed as the leeches practically moaned at the implication. Everyone wanted to be in his world. “You are more than welcome to stay for the festivities as a guest, so long as you don’t act like a sore loser and ruin the fun, of course.”

The joviality in the air was too full of greed. Your future was never going to be yours, but you hadn't expected him to let so many others join in his game. 

This game that never fucking stopped.

“Our lovely doe has requested a show of love for today’s hunt,” he took your hand and spun you for the crowd, grabbing you by the waist to keep you from tripping over yourself. “Run along, hunters. In the woods you’ll find materials of all sorts, but you’re welcome to use your own. Create something to show how you’ll care for your dear wife once you catch her. Care to give them any tips, Y/N?”

Fuck you.

“The man I love will make me smile.”

Uncle Cedrick caught his frown before it fully formed, but your tiny rebellion went cold when his eyes flicked to the locket you were fidgeting with. 

“You heard the doe, hunters,” he ordered, studying your shaky hands that you dropped to your sides too fast. “Make your prey smile before you pierce her heart.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

He shouldn’t have been dropping his guard like this, but something about this room, this ridiculous, green couch, and that sweet girl’s flustered face, had Sir Crocodile fighting off a smile.

“But… I’ve still got work to do, and they— “

“Is my sweet girl worried about other men right now,” he threatened, patting the cushion beside him while he tried to keep his balance. 

The clown was off preparing for that gods awful show they’d have to sit through at the party, while the swordsman ran through security. Since Crocodile had already sent agents out to hunt for party favors, he had a free moment, and he chose to spend it taunting their numbers girl. 

She looked so pretty with that flash of fear in her eyes.

Especially when she gave in so quickly. 

“N-no, I…”

“You’ve been working so hard. I can help you relax. Wanna take a break, sweetheart?”

Y/N bit her lip softly, and Crocodile nearly launched himself at her. Patience wasn’t one of his virtues, but luckily his numbers girl got to her feet. 

“Not so fast, darlin,” he teased while she yelped in his grasp, moving through sand to carry her before she could take a step with her bare feet.

“Fuck!”

She looked so cute when he tossed her onto his desk. Y/N was shaking so much that he almost stopped, his fingers clenching against the wooden desk while he took a final puff of his cigar. The feel of smoke on his tongue only made him crave her more.

“Well, sweetheart, you’re not scared to be alone with me, are— “

“I want you, daddy,” Y/N vowed, her voice like some heavenly song, guiding him toward things he didn’t deserve. She sat up, reaching, clinging to him until he chuckled and pushed her soft fingers away. She’d tugged at his silk scarf, and he let her keep the purple fabric when he shoved her back onto the desk. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl, and relax for me,” he taunted. Crocodile stamped out his cigar before kneeling beside his desk, fighting his smile again at every desperate noise she made while he set her legs up on his shoulders. She nodded fast while he tore through her cheap panties with his hook, and her scent finally did him in. 

This ex-warlord, this wicked pirate, this bad man… was smiling. Smiling from pleasure and peace instead of cruelty and greed.

Sir Crocodile caught his smile as he pressed it against that sweet, swollen flesh, loving the way she tore at his hair. Her fingers went rough, then weak, again and again, as though she couldn’t help her need, but feared his reaction. 

“Let go, sweetheart. Let Daddy have it all,” he purred before shoving his tongue so deep. He moaned while he drank at her pleasure, proud of how she took what she needed, pulling his hair at the roots while she fell apart. 

“You’re doing so well,” Crocodile praised, fighting everything in him not to claim this sweet girl for himself, his own little dream. 

“Please, daddy.”

“My little girl’s so hungry,” he laughed while his fingers teased along all the wetness she spread before him. “You can have everything you want.”

Y/N had pushed onto her elbows to meet his eyes, but fell back, her body arching when he shoved two fingers into her pretty cunt. Her moans were so fucking precious that the ex-warlord’s mind went blank. Nothing but her.

“It’s still work hours, sugar. Try to keep it down.”

Fuck, she was gorgeous when her eyes rolled back, eagerly letting him shove that purple silk into her mouth. She was already crying when he undid his slacks, freeing himself to tease along that needy flesh.

Crocodile missed, pouring lube down the side of the desk before covering his leaking cock. She was too good of a girl for him to rush this, but the feel of his own lubed hand was nearly enough while he watched her begging beneath him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he guided her while he held himself back. “You can take it, can’t you?”

He tried to be gentle, but Y/N still cried and screamed, so he fucked himself into her until his scarf fell from her lips.

“It’s too— feels too good— fuck!!”

She spoke the truth until he shoved the silk back into her mouth. It felt too fucking good to fill her up, to feel her body stretching and fighting to hold him. So soft, so wet, so fucking tight around his cock with every thrust.

But she could take him. She could take all of him, and she looked beautifully wrecked while she did, that silk scarf dark with spit now when he tugged it from her lips again. 

“Where does my sweet girl— “

“Inside me, daddy,” Y/N cried out before her body milked his again, eyes going white while she came. “Come inside me, please!”

“Fuck, you take me so well, baby girl. Mm— so fucking perfect…”

Crocodile held her down, pressing his palm against her chest. He hadn’t realized that his hook had been tracing along her side until he started filling her, but she looked like she was enjoying it, so he didn’t bother to stop. 

She looked like she was enjoying getting fucked by a monster.

She looked so sweet when he met her eyes, pulling out slowly to keep from causing more harm. 

“Daddy…”

“Hey, sweet girl,” he hummed while he kissed her neck. Her squirms were enough, and he felt his scarred face smiling against her skin once more. “How— “

“You could have just said you wanted her to yourself for a while,” the swordsman taunted from the doorway that had opened too quietly. 

Or maybe Crocodile had let himself get too distracted. 

“I thought you didn’t like liars,” Mihawk smirked, moving close enough to snag the spit-soaked scarf from the desk. 

“We got some work done,” Crocodile told the truth, although it felt like a lie when he looked down at her. “My sweet girl just needed a break.”

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

Their faces were easy to match up with the voices he’d planned to end while he listened in that dusty shed. This drab, little hole had been shined up so brightly, almost passing for a real casino, but Mihawk knew it could still use a fresh coat of red paint. 

“I suppose that only imbeciles would fail to recognize me when I walk through the door. I had assumed that was what all of you were, given your foolish choice in hobbies.”

“Hawkeye— Mr. Mihawk, sir, please,” the owner of the stale, little hall beckoned him toward the sticky, corner booth, “you’re an honored guest! Please, relax, and let us show you how we party in Majiastuka.”

The slim possibility of those words swaying the ex-warlord burned away when faraway voices filled the air.

‘You’re our little princess now.’

Their deaths would come later. For now, Mihawk kept his gaze away from the projector screen, and the flustered face of his little rabbit. 

“What a delightful invitation,” the world’s greatest swordsman sneered, drawing his black blade to hover over the filthy floorboards. “Unfortunately, I have already had my fill of your wretched squeals. Unless you can tell me how to reach Miss Sylvad, your worthless time on this planet is over.”

“Fuck thi— “

A coward off to the side stumbled while he cursed, fleeing toward the door. Mihawk didn’t even need to shift his eyes in that direction; Yoru simply flicked across the floor, the blade smacking into a chair that cracked the man’s neck when it hit.

Every movement, every breath was precise. 

A predator, and its prey.

“Hey man, I’m sorry, okay,” the pathetic kingpin begged while the ex-warlord stalked closer. “How can I help? Anything, please!”

“Such a well-mannered beast,” Mihawk growled while he dug his nails into the man’s jaw. “I’m taking your special snail, and I shall take your life if you don’t tell me where the fuck you got it from.”

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

This might be the worst idea you’d ever had. 

“It’s a…”

“Graham cracker house. They’re usually gingerbread, but no one likes to eat that shit.”

Cracker beamed down at you, so proud of the sloppy, edible house that he’d dropped onto your lap. 

“That’s you,” he pointed toward the misshapen figure by the front door. “I know that you’re a good girl that wants to help your family. I’ll help you be happy and safe, and you’ll help our family grow.”

Oh. 

The misshapen clump finally took shape in your mind; that fucked up cracker was meant to be you. 

Barefoot and pregnant.

This is super fucking fun.

“Thank you, Cracker. It’s lovely.”

“It’s trash,” Cracker corrected with that menacing grin, and you almost yelped when he touched your face. You had to meet his eyes, and that basic, human intimacy, coupled with the scent of that sugary house, nearly had you spilling your disgust onto the floor. 

Nausea had you in a chokehold, but that didn’t stop your smile. 

This ridiculous man leaned down, and the sparks at the ends of his hair were too fucking close to your face when he purred in your ear.

“You’re the only lovely thing I see.”

~~~

How strange that the sight of such a light and precious thing could drag you down so far. 

In the place of a pearl, the shell opened to show a long-lasting bubble. The treasure had become a reminder of your selfishness and privilege, yet your heart still ached at the sight. 

Precious trees had helped create this little magic. Sabaody should have been treasured, protected.

Instead, it was hell: a humiliating torture for people that didn’t look like you. 

“It’s beautiful, Prince Fukaboshi,” you sighed. “Thank you.”

“It is nowhere near as beautiful as your selfless heart.”

Smiling was harder when you had to swallow the burning bile on the back of your tongue.

~~~

“This is very nice,” you lied.

“It’s a poor rendition,” your prey laughed at his ugly drawing of what looked like a pile of fingers until you deciphered the shapes. “Starfish cling to their world, holding tight to their home… I could have stolen it for you, but it’s not right to take a star from where it belongs.”

“So, you left my star all alone,” you managed to pout; you were a selfish, spoiled, rich girl. 

Starfish were apparently too much for you to handle. 

~~~

“What do ya think, numbers girl?”

That deep voice made you shiver, shaking you out of your fog, but into the chaos of old desire. 

You knew you should hate him. You should be disgusted by his mere presence here, by all the details that would make your eyebrows raise if you heard them about a similar relationship. 

But you were too far gone to give a fuck. 

Mr. Iceburg was smiling at you. He was reaching out to rest his hand on yours before offering a gift he’d made with those same, lovely hands. The rough skin scraping against yours seemed to send you back in time, a teenage craving, still unfulfilled.  

“There wasn’t enough time, but I hope you like it,” Iceburg hummed when he placed a small, carved ship in your palm. The rough wood smelled incredible, and it was beautiful, rough as it was. 

All the details were vague, but your thumb traced across the redwood he’d carved onto the main sail. 

It wasn’t just his looks that had stolen your heart when you were younger. Mr. Iceburg had an air of kindness and wonderment about him that reminded you what those feelings could be like. 

Were you too far gone to feel that light? 

Was he too much of a leech for it to be real?

Who fucking cares? It’s Mr. Iceburg.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

“So, you left my star all alone?”

Y/N’s pouting lips were too much; Shanks was horrified by her ability to lie with every part of her. 

“Well, I…”

That fallen star smiled while the bells called him away, and she chose another man, yet again.

~~~

The Great Red-Haired Shanks was fucking useless. 

He had fucked up so completely that his every step to fix things put miles and miles between them.

And he couldn’t fucking talk about it. 

The estate was literally crawling with snails, so Shanks couldn’t risk speaking openly to his first mate. He couldn’t relax for a second with how hyper aware he’d become of the low hum of their presence. 

How the fuck does she live like this?

Throughout the pain and hardships of his own life, this Emperor of the Sea had carried something with him that he was lacking here, and the discomfort of its loss felt like another phantom pain, an unreachable itch. 

Shanks was raised as a pirate.

He was raised to be free. 

No one was free on this wretched island, except for the tyrant that toyed with them all. 

Cedrick Sylvad hadn’t joined the group that flocked to his little casino for a second night. He didn’t need the cash. 

The red-haired pirate followed the leeches and did his best to shove his frustrations aside while he fought for her. 

“Still here, huh?”

“Why would I leave,” Giberson breathed noxious fumes into his face while he leaned over his cards. “This game’s only just begun.”

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Kat’s face pulled you into the moment, her quivering lips failing to hold back her disparaging smile.

You couldn’t blame her. 

“That’s a really nice cape,” she snorted, falling into laughter.

“I thought you wanted me to marry a Vinsmoke.” Your words were strained, although annoyance or laughter could have been the cause.

“Totally,” she managed to deadpan. “Definitely the number one choice.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

It was so good to see her cackle, even if you had to wear this poofy, frilly, fire-engine red gown to make it happen. 

The cape wasn’t nearly as bad as the embroidered “ones” along the hems. 

“I want you to marry one of them if…”

“Spit it out,” you ordered, holding in your own laughs while Kat fell apart. 

“If they’re your number one choice,” she squeaked again while she steadied herself with a hand on her thigh. 

You couldn’t blame her. Not with the state your hair was in. 

~~~

“Tonight, we have lifted one of our rules for the sake of fairness to our esteemed hunters,” Uncle charmed the crowd, his fingers resting on the back of your neck. 

He looked down at you with that practiced mask of a doting uncle while he gripped your skin like you were an unruly animal that he had to control.

“My dear niece must remain within the borders of the island, but the sky’s the limit now.”

He stepped away with a smirk, and you were too drained from smiling to care what he meant. It was always a game at your expense. You were just glad that he wasn’t touching you anymore. 

Resisting the urge to scratch his eyes out like the unruly animal you were took a lot of energy, and you were going to need it tonight. 

The vultures were practically squealing while Prince Ichiji walked up the path, flanked on either side by his brothers. The ruffles on their shirts looked natural on them, and their capes just reminded you that they were royalty, even if they descended from vicious conquerors who claimed that status. From all you’d gathered, these current Vinsmokes seem to carry that violent legacy.

Except for when they looked at you. 

Ichiji held out the longest, but soon the three of them were staring at you like hungry puppies. Niji and Yonji knelt at your sides to kiss your hands, thoroughly. Ichiji leaned down, the swoops in his red hair casting distracting shadows across his face beneath the lanterns. 

“Everyone’s fighting to take home the lovely prize,” he breathed against your ear before he pulled back to meet your eyes. “But they can’t have you.”

“Oh,” you tried to tease, but the kisses still peppering your hands and fingers were too distracting. “Why is that?”

The three of them laughed, and you would have fallen if they hadn’t gripped your hands in time. The three princes had all touched their belts, and the colorful raid suits they were so famous for spread over them instantly, to roaring applause. You hadn’t had time to catch your breath before Ichiji lifted you into his arms.

“You’re our little princess now.”

Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Don’t scream.

“Don’t be scared, pretty,” he comforted, though his pleased voice didn’t stop the world from disappearing beneath you. 

“Yeah, I’ll catch you if he drops you,” Yonji flew close to your cheek. 

“I won’t drop her.”

How does their hair stay like that in the wind, you thought, giggling to yourself while you watched the trees beneath you. 

“Can I touch the top of a tree?”

“You can touch anything you– ”

“Back off, Niji,” Ichiji growled at his blue haired brother that had flown too close this time before returning to that simpering voice. “Of course, princess. We can find every tree on the island, if you like.”

“Just one is lovely, thank you.”

Touching the top of a redwood tree had never crossed your mind, but the feel of it against your fingers gave you a moment of sweetness at the thought of telling your dad about it. He would be so excited, and he’d want to know every detail, until you both were scribbling on notepads to calculate how long it would take to touch every tree on the island. 

It was stupid. How could you stay numb when you kept reminding yourself of pain, or of something far crueler than that? 

Happiness and love would tear you apart. 

~~~

If you weren’t out of breath, you might have giggled again at how well the scene fit with your last thought. 

Another clearing on another stolen hill had come into view, during one of the brief glances you’d sent toward the ground. That ground was coming too close, too fast, but the scent hit you before your feet touched the ground.

Someone had planted a circular wall of roses that was taller than you’d thought possible for the flower. You had learned that the realm of possibility was vaster than you could imagine. What were some huge rose bushes compared to everything else in your world?

Ichiji set you down beside a gorgeous table of dark wood, with large, cushioned chairs in that matching rose-red.

He poured champagne, toasting to your beauty while you waited for him to sip first.

“Are you nervous,” the red head asked, the hint of laughter in his tone. “Don’t worry, princess, you can relax here. I made sure we’d have plenty of privacy.”

“Yeah,” Yonji called while he flew down into the tower of roses. “No one’s getting in here without catching some thorns.”

“We finished the rounds,” Niji reported. He stayed floating toward the top, lazily bouncing something in his hand. “This is the only snail left in a mile radius. Now you two can have some alone time.

“DON’T HURT IT! Please… don’t…”

Niji paused with his arm pulled back, stopping before throwing the transponder snail, cocking his head as he looked down at you.

“Don’t be so cruel, brother,” Ichiji purred beside you.

Breathe. Just breathe.

“Please, don’t hurt it,” you tried to keep your voice from shaking. It was already hoarse from that scream. “I… like snails.”

“So sweet,” Yonji swooned. He flew close, with Niji and the poor snail following behind him. “You should see our— “

“It’s my turn, brothers,” the eldest prince reminded them.

Yonji kissed your cheek before he flew away, but Niji grabbed your wrist. He placed the snail in the center of your palm before tracing his fingers down the side of your face.

“Such a pretty princess,” he hummed, “I’ll make sure this thing is safe for you. We can even let some watch our date if you— “

“This is my date, Niji.”

“Right. Have fun, you two.”

Thankfully, the blue-haired brother grabbed the snail before he flew away, but another set of eyes stayed glued to your skin.

“Sorry about that, beautiful. Let’s eat, I wanna know about all the other sweet things you like.”

Still cheesy. Still cocky.

Yet somehow his guiding hand on you lower back, and his hungry eyes reminded you of another sort of numb.

Nothing matters, so I might as well enjoy this.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

“Feel good, star,” Crocodile’s little clown mumbled in his sleep, the stench of liquor on Buggy’s breath rivaling his own.

“Hey,” he started, wanting to carry Buggy to bed instead of leaving him alone on that green couch. “Come on— “

“Just feel good, baby,” his clown whined softly, the sadness in his voice tearing at the scarred man even more tonight.

“Shh, Buggy. It’s gonna be okay.”

He hoped he wasn’t lying.

“I won’t tell, star. I know it was a— What the fuck?”

“It’s just me, little clown. Let’s go to bed,” he offered his hand. Buggy shook himself but followed him down the empty corridor to that empty bed. “Bad dreams again?”

“No— I mean, just the same bullshit,” Buggy coughed while his fingers tapped along his thigh. “Ha, I really thought the booze would help… What about you?”

Crocodile pulled the man close, and kissed that tangled, blue hair as he closed his eyes against this shitty world.

“We’re gonna get her back,” he vowed ignoring the scent of lies in the air. There had never been room for trust in this world, but Crocodile realized he didn’t care if his little lovers were lying to him. He just needed them back.

He needed to make a better world for them.

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note: "I've still been disappearing from the world," is how I started my last author's note from Chapter 34. So much has changed in my life.

Personal Vent below! Mostly vague, but trigger warning for toxic, demanding work environments, and their affect on physical and mental health. Mention of bipolar and adhd.

PLEASE DON'T READ THIS unless you really want to, and have the space for it! I would rather you scroll past than to take on any of my stress.

I am okay, and I want Numbers Game to be a place for us to rest and enjoy some fictional chaos instead. This will be the last time I'll discuss this on a Numbers Game post, but I felt I had to share how much I've wanted to be here with y'all. Any future updates will be posted separately on my lynna's health updates tag.

I am free from the situation that was wrecking my physical, mental, and financial health for the past five years. That chaos sent me into an episode that landed me on medical leave last year. But that fucked up time is when I started writing, and joined this wonderful community. I wouldn't have made it though the past year without y'all. I was in full on crisis mode, and it had all come to a head over these past few months. Then I got out. I was so fucking excited to tell y'all about the new changes in my life, but I was overwhelmed with everything that I had to do to get out and prepare. Plus, my fucking thumb stopped working because I was typing the first draft of this chapter on my phone since I had no time to sit down and write, and I had to rest it for the new job that seemed perfect for me. I hope that it'll get better soon, but I seem to have jumped out of the frying pan, and into the fire. I am okay. I am safe. I am just tired as fuck, and needing to set boundaries with a new company that is even more demanding than the last. At least they are actually paying me on time, and it's less physically demanding, (unless you count a lifelong insomniac adjusting to waking up at 6am and getting home at 6pm, five days a week 🥴). The main reason I was excited for this job, besides relieving the crisis shit I was going though, was that it would have a regular schedule; I'd be able to focus on what I really want to do. Sorry it took me so long to catch my breath, but I'm fucking back, y'all. I'm not letting another company drain my soul away. I'm not working off the clock any more.

I've got smut to write 🥰📝🔥

With so much love,

~ Lynna 💜✨

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak | @djloveyou3000 | @mercymccann | @horse-and-writer97 | @napagent

Part 36

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[holylulusworld]

Every Breath you take (21)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: a man out of time, secret admirer trope, “crazy” reader, fluff, domestic life

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every Breath you take (20)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Three months later, you and Bucky found a rhythm, literally. You’re slow dancing together, swaying to one of his favorite songs. Resting your head against his chest, you close your eyes and let Bucky guide your body.

Dancing aside, you found a rhythm to follow for your future together.

Trust is the key. You promised each other to have faith in your relationship. Bucky and you are in this together.

Maybe you started your relationship the crazy way, but this doesn’t mean it won’t last. His obsession and your level of devotion match.

You sigh, remembering all the nights you spent tangled in each other over the last months, as you sway.

“Doll, are you hungry?” Bucky murmurs, bringing you out of your daydreams. You place your head on his chest, smiling as you can hear his heartbeat. “We could have a snack, or do you want to cook together?”

You blink your eyes open and lift your head from his chest. “Hmmm…” you nod and rest your head back against his chest. “We could cook together again. Maybe we won’t burn it this time.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” he chuckles. “You distracted me with your wandering hands. How can a man resist if you call him sweet names and touch him like you do?

You giggle. Bucky is putty in your hands, and you love it. Both of you touch-starved to an extent; you can’t keep your hands to yourself most of the time.

Maybe it’s only the honeymoon phase, but you believe it’s more than this. Bucky and you are meant to be together; you just know it.

“We have the vegetables from the farmer’s market, chicken, and lots of cheese. Let’s look online if we find a good recipe.”

“You forgot the plums,” Bucky teases because you love to steal his favorite fruits. “Lots of them, baby doll. We can eat them for dessert.”

“Oh, I found a nice recipe for a plum cobbler with whipped cream. It sounds deliciously, Bucky. We could try to make it too. It’s not hard to make.”

“Do not forget, we are beginners,” Bucky jokes. “We don’t want to burn down the house.” He chuckles when you look up at him and stick your tongue out. “Last time you ended up burning the dishtowel.”

“That was an accident,” you point out. “Accidents happen, Bucky. Especially in the kitchen. We have to be more careful while cooking from now on. No distractions this time.”

“No more distractions,” Bucky nuzzles your hair. “I promise to not fall for you. I’ll focus on cooking, not my sexy girlfriend. He gropes your ass with both hands and purrs your name. “Let’s find a recipe, doll.”

“Wow! We made it,” Bucky hums while happily tasting the food you made. It doesn’t look bad. “Hmm... the cheesy chicken and vegetable pasta bake recipe you found is great.”

“I knew you’d like it.” You smile happily. Cooking with Bucky was fun. He even cracked a joke and told you a little more about his past. Mostly from his childhood, and how he loved to watch his mom cook. “We should do this more often.”

Bucky smiles. This is exactly what he had dreamed of for so long—sharing his life with someone he loves and filling the home he built with love.

All he misses is a little one running around your home. There is plenty of time to talk about children with you, too. For now, he must be patient and wait for the right time to ask you to have his child.

He’ll propose first, of course. Bucky is still a gentleman out of time. He won’t fill you with his baby without putting a ring on your finger.

“I’m so full,” you say, and rub your belly. “I bet that’s how you feel when pregnant.” You pat your belly, giggling. “What do you think, Buck?”

Bucky stares at your belly. He licks his lips, imagining you all swollen with his child. Something else stirs in his belly than hunger—or rather, a different kind of hunger. “You think so?” His voice is a little rougher when he looks at you. “Do you think you’ll like feeling a baby inside your belly?”

“Bucky,” you purr his name. You crook your finger to lure him in. “Do you want to have a baby one day?”

“Yeah—” he husks. “So bad. I can see you all swollen, breasts leaking milk. I’d rub your belly while…”

You whimper and shift in your seat. “Uh—we don’t have to have one right now, but…” You smirk and pucker your lips. “I’d like you to breed me tonight…”

Tags in reblog.

[clemswinecorner]

Birthday [Harry Lewis/W2S]

Summary: You and Harry have barely been dating when his birthday rolls around.

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: swearing probably, nothing major

Happy Birthday to our favourite!! In honour of his birthday, I wrote this (don't mind this being published when his birthday only has like an hour left)

Main Masterlist

You and Harry had only been romantically involved with each other for a month or two when his birthday rolled around. You’d sent him a birthday text in the morning, of course, but didn’t see him until later in the day. He spent the morning with the Sidemen recording some golf video, and them and his friends would all meet up at his around 5 p.m. You were kind of nervous when you showed up, because it was your boyfriend’s birthday. Especially because the relationship was still so new, you were a bit nervous about how it would go and what the deal would be. You knew his friends since you’d met through Josh years ago, being Freya’s lifelong best friend. You made your way into the friend group when you moved to London, and had celebrated his birthday with him plenty of times before, but this year was different. It was Josh who opened the door, not Harry, and you greeted him with a smile. 

“Ah, look who’s here!” You give him a quick hug and greet Callum, who was just walking out of his room, with a smile. “I’ll tell him you got here, yeah?” He says, before he walks back to the living room. Harry’s roommates were both aware that you guys are more than friends, though you hadn’t explicitly told them. You’ve just taken off your coat and shoes when Harry walks in. “Oh, hello,” you turn around to him and smile. “Hey birthday boy,” you smile, holding out your hands for a hug, which he accepts. You smell the sweet cologne he usually wears when recording on his hoodie, as he holds you tight. You lean back, still looking at his face with your hands around his neck. “Happy birthday, my love!” You smile, placing a kiss on his lips. You can feel a smile form on his face as he pulls you closer to him. “Thank you, baby. Glad you could make it,” you jokingly roll your eyes. “What, you think I’d miss your birthday? I haven’t in years,” He lets out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, no, you haven’t. You look really nice, by the way,” he tells you, finally able to check you out. “Thank you. Now, do you want your present now or later?” You ask, and you interrupt him before he’s able to talk. “I know I didn’t have to get you anything, but I wanted to,” He smiles at your kindness, “Okay, thank you. I don’t know, I think a few people want to do it during dinner, but up to you,” You nod and think about it for a second. “I’ll give it later, then,” you say, dropping your tote bag on the floor. He nods, and walks back into the living room, with you following him. You greet everyone enthusiastically, not having seen most of them for a while. 

At around half six, Harry walked up to you, nudging your side. You turn your attention away from Simon, who you were in conversation with. “I’m going to get changed, and then we’re going, yeah?” You nod, excusing yourself as you put down your empty glass. You quickly pack two wrapped presents out of your bag, before you walk into his bedroom. He turns around, his shirt already off. You still weren’t tired of that view, and you shameless looked him up and down. He was already in his black trousers, and it was a shame he had to put on a shirt. “Sorry, could’ve knocked,” You softly say, and he shakes his head, “No it’s fine, was just confused who it was.” He sticks his arms through the sleeves, and god, this shouldn’t be as hot as it is. You sit on his bed, and he looks at you curiously as he buttons his shirt. “Sorry, just admiring my view,” you admit, and you can see a slight blush spreading on his neck and chest. He doesn’t say anything back. , nervously smiling as he focuses on his shirt. “Anyway, I have some presents with me as well,” He looks up again with a smile, taking a seat next to you. You first hand him a flat, squared present, making him look up curiously. “Did you talk to Cal about this?” He asks, glancing over to the record player that was still in its box in the corner of his room. You shrug, not wanting to give away anything. He carefully unwraps it and takes out the vinyl cover. “Oh wow,” he says, looking at the cover on the front, a photo you took of him and his friends last Halloween. He smiles, looking up at you, before he goes back to inspecting the cover and turning it around. He looks up at a soft smile of the picture of you looking at him, love evident in your eyes, and him looking down laughing. “Wow, that’s amazing. Is there an album in it?” He asks, looking at the pictures again. “So, Callum did mention to me how they were getting you a record player, yes. It’s, err, actually been custom pressed, it says the songs on the cover as well,” His eyes widen. “Oh wow, that’s incredible. Holiday pub golf version oh I love that,” looking on the A side, which had the picture with his friends. He turns it around, reading the B-Side, “Tiny Dancer, Elton John, oh that’s the one that played when we went on our first date, isn’t it?” You nod, and smile at the memory. “Yeah, I wasn’t sure if you’d remember that. Side A is like, Sidemen related songs, and like, Wild Ones and then the other one is like… Songs that remind me of you, and us,” she explains. “Ooh, Wild Ones, that’s a gem. Wow, thank you, this is really cool,” he embraces you, setting the Vinyl down on his bed for a second to embrace you. “Thank you, that’s wonderful,” he whispers, pulling back to give you a kiss. You smile, and kiss him back, the same butterflies exploding as the many times before. “Harry, we have to get to the restaurant,” You remind him when you take a second to catch your breath. “Yeah, yeah.”

The group arrives at the restaurant around seven, walking there from Harry’s place. You and Harry go in first to inform the staff of the reservation, whilst the group waits outside and chats. Because it was a slightly bigger group of about 15 people that were all relatively well known, he’d rented the small upper floor that was a small extension of the restaurant that would normally fit about twenty people. You go outside to get the rest of the group and enter the cosy room, that has a classy Italian aesthetic. They’d put the tables together, so everyone could fit around, and you take place next to Harry and Callux, Ethan sitting on the other side of Harry and Chip and Callum sitting across from you. You grab his hand under the table as everyone orders their drinks, shuffling a bit closer. When everyone has ordered, the boys decide it’s time for presents, before people get too drunk or too engaged in conversations. The boys make their rounds, at least the ones that didn’t give him anything already, before it gets back to you. Harry looks at you, not expecting you to have anything from him, as you get a small box shaped wrapped present out of your bag. “Y/N, you already got me something,” He lowly says, “No, it’s just something small, please just open it,” you ask, giggling at the thought of the present. Harry reluctantly takes it, tearing off the wrapping paper. He looks at the box, opening it to reveal six golf balls. “Wait, are these…” He looks at you with a laugh on his face, and you nod. “Oh my god, that’s amazing,” he lets out a genuine laugh, taking out one of the golf balls to look at it closely. Ethan looks over, also laughing at the images on the balls. A few of the guys look confuse, so you look at them to explain it, “They’re golf balls with pictures of me on them,” you tell them, and everyone laughs, wanting to see them. When Harry has the box in front of him, now empty as the balls are being passed around, he turns towards you. “Thank you, baby, I love that,” he says, leaning a bit closer. This was kind of dangerous, knowing his friends all surrounded you, but you didn’t really care. They’d know at some point anyway. “It’s just a silly thing, but I’m glad you like it,” you say, looking into his eyes you can see his smile in. He leans closer until your lips are touching, whispering another thank you before he gives you one last peck, moving back. He moves his arm onto the back of your chair, lightly grazing your shoulder, as you see Josh looking at you with raised eyebrows.  Tobi clears his throat, “Anything you want to tell us, guys?” Harry’s eyes widen at the realization of what he’s just done, and you give him a reassuring smile. “Oh. Well, we’re, like, together. Please no big deal though, we’re just, you know,” Harry rambles, and you smile, taking his hand under his table. He briefly looks at you, and relaxes when he realizes you’re okay. “Ayy they both finally did it, everyone give it up for Harry and Y/N!” Chip exclaims as everyone cheers, and you hide on Harry’s shoulder as you chuckle in embarrassment. You sit up again and see Callux give you a small smile, leaning closer to you. “I’m glad you have each other, he has been happier because of you. And you seem more yourself, too. I’m glad,” he shared, making you smile. “Thank you, genuinely. And also for not really asking, took us a while to figure out what we wanted,” she admits, and he nods, “Of course. Oh, is it time for the thing yet?” He changes the topic, and you look back at Harry laughing with Ethan, Simon, and Callum. “Oh, yeah, can you ask Theo? He has the present,” Callux nods as you turn back to Harry, nudging him. “There’s one more present,” You say, interrupting the conversation. The boys all look at you, understanding the signal to shut up, and Harry frowns, trying to work out whom he missed.

Theo speaks up, “Okay, so, this is from all of us, really,” he tells him, looking around the group. “I do think I speak for all of us when I say you mostly have Y/N to thank, though, because she did a wonderful job working it out, but it’s a bit of a group effort, from us, to you,” He explains, handing over a square, somewhat thick, package. Harry looks around the group curiously as everyone expectantly watches him unpack it. “Harry through our eyes, a reminder of our love for you,” he reads curiously, opening the book. He opens it to a written page surrounded by group pictures of him and his friends and family. ‘Harry,’ it reads, ‘You’ve done so much for all of us, we wanted to give you something back. You mean so much to every single one of us individually, and you deserve to know. This is who you are through our eyes, hopefully you see the same magic we do in you.’ He looks up around the group, before he flips to the next page filled with crazy pictures of him. He lets out a chuckle, turning the page to see a combination of written texts and pictures. “You can read it all later, but it’s basically all of us and some more people sharing what they think about you. Stories, pictures, memories. Your parents and siblings are in it as well. Just, for whenever you need it,” you explain, as he flicks through the book. “Wow. Thank you guys, wow, that is so, umm, my god. Thank you,” he says, truly meaning it. You smile, resting your hand on his thigh. You make relaxing motions, Harry clearly a bit overwhelmed with his emotions, as he briefly looks through. “Oh wow, these are old,” he chuckles, looking at a picture Chris had taken of him the first time they’d met. He looks around the group once more. “Thank you guys, thank you,” He expresses once more, and everyone reacts with a smile, “Of course,” or some other form of reaction. Harry kisses your cheek as a thank you as he turns to you once more. “Thank you, it’s wonderful.” You smile, looking into his eyes. “You deserve to know how loved you are.”

[taintandviolent]

Thankful ; Jimmy Darling x Reader

summary: 🦃 It's Thanksgiving, and the troupe is enjoying a collaborative dinner. You're sat next to Jimmy Darling, who you've been flirting with on and off for the past week. After dinner, you discover that he's still hungry.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 1.9K! | food mention, mentions of arousal (both male and female), semi-established relationship, semi-public making out and cunnilingus.

a/n: requested by @american-horror-whore! I hope this was everything you wanted bby!! thanks for the request, I so so so missed writing for my boy. also happy early thanksgiving to my followers!! i'm super thankful for all of you guys! divider by @/strangergraphics

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

It’s Thanksgiving, and you’re feeling mighty thankful. That was for sure. You scoop the last bit of sweet potato casserole into your fork, smiling over at Eve as she recounts one of her favorite stories from days past. You’d been a member of the show for a month now, but they’d wasted no time in making you feel like you’d been there since the beginning. You’d found a specific sort of camaraderie there, the kind that only comes from shared experiences and understood feelings. It must be similar to a sort of sorority or something.

Jazz drifts from the record player in the corner, serenading everyone with a relaxed romanticism. The wooden table is stuffed with dishes; almost everyone had pitched in to make something for the dinner. You’d made the stuffing, and helped Ethel with the turkey. As a little extra decoration, you’d gathered some of the fall leaves and scattered them along the table, which paired nicely with the candles that Elsa had brought in from her tent. Everyone was in good spirits, but especially Jimmy Darling, who, like everyone, had been indulging in a little of his mama’s hooch.

He’s drunk, his complexion flushed and healthy. He keeps leaning into you, letting one of his large hands make a fist in your skirt, hiking it up and tugging it towards him. You scoot closer – as close as you can without being on his lap. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard, but you can’t help it; the butterflies that he gives you take control of your system the second he’s in the room.  

“Hey dollface,” Jimmy suddenly murmurs next to you. “Pass the pie, would ya’?” 

“Only if you cut me a piece too, Jimmy…”

You don’t wait for an answer before pushing yourself up off the bench just enough to reach the plate of pumpkin pie, carefully sliding your hand underneath the ceramic dish. Desiree had baked it along with the sweet potato casserole that afternoon and you were fairly certain that everyone had been eyeing it the entire dinner. The top of the pie was a perfect orange, glazed and delicious, while the crust was a delicious looking golden brown. To top it off, it was still warm. 

You set the pie in the space between you, smiling politely at Jimmy as he got to work cutting out a slice with his fork. The first one goes to you with a bright, crooked smile; he was always such a thoughtful, handsome gentleman. Admittedly, that was part of the reason that you two had been courting each other for a week now, secretly meeting to kiss and explore each other’s warm bodies in the dead of night. You weren’t embarrassed of him, nor shy, but he was very aware of the rest of the troupe’s prying eyes, specifically Elsa’s and thought it better if for now, you two kept things quiet.   

Eve’s eyes flit to yours, a tender smile on her lips. You think she knows, but she’s got enough sense not to say anything. You blink slowly and turn your attention back to Jimmy, who has his hand on your bare thigh now, fingering the silky hem of your nylons. Underneath the table, you toy with Jimmy’s ankle, rubbing your own against it and lifting the pant leg. He lets out a little moan through closed lips – inaudible to everyone but you – and squeezes the meat of your thigh. With a mean poker face, Jimmy takes a forkful of the pie and shoves it into his mouth. To everyone else, he just looks a little buzzed – which he is. But to you, he looks buzzed and horny; from the way those brown eyes are half-lidded and heavy to the way his jaw hangs slack every time he looks over you, scanning your body and kneading your thighs like dough. You pick up the tiny nuances of his arousal and gobble them up as quickly as you do the pie. 

The rest of the dinner goes on with laughter and shared stories until Elsa announces that she must get her sleep. Ethel stands up to begin clearing the empty dishes. You get to your feet and help her, knowing full well that she intended to do it all herself. 

Once you finish, you head out of the main tent, wiping your hands on the back of your dress. Everyone’s dispersed. Jimmy’s gone – probably stumbled back to his trailer in a drunken food coma. You laugh to yourself and head back to your caravan. 

Just as you pass his trailer, Jimmy emerges from the shadows, a flash of skin as his conjoined fingers wrap around your smaller wrist with ease. “No, no… where do you think you’re goin’, sweet face?” He tugs you back towards his trailer. “Baby, c’mere…” 

His back hits the metal exterior of his caravan with a thud and he pulls you atop of him, wrapping both his arms around your lower back. Maybe it was fate, maybe it was coincidence. Whatever it was, had put your trailers next to each other the day you’d rolled in. That made it very easy for you two to canoodle whenever you wanted without attracting too much attention. 

Hidden in between the two trailers, amongst the sound of rustling grasses and distant cars, you press your lips against his plush, pink ones and dive in. Kissing Jimmy is like licking the inside of a honey pot; it’s addicting, warm and the saccharine notes of his kisses coat your tongue. Every single time. You fall into the familiar rhythm of kissing him, grinding your hips back against his as he urges them into yours. You’ve been here before, many times in the last seven days, but it hasn’t gotten old yet. 

Your nimble fingers reach up, pulling the shirt buttons from their slits until you reach his belly button, and stop, too distracted with the way he’s kissing you to continue. “Oh, Jimmy,” you say against his skin.  The chill of the November air contrasts with the heat that rolls off his bare skin.

“I’m still hungry,” he growls into the curve of your ear, peppering feverish kisses along the nape of your neck. You can’t help but chuckle softly as you lean your head to the side, amused that at a time like this, Jimmy’s thinking of food. With your hands planted firmly on his pectoral muscles that are exposed through his half-open shirt, you gently push him off and look into his coffee black eyes. 

“Well, Jimmy, there’s plenty of leftovers – you should’ve eaten more! We can –” 

“No, baby. Not that kind of hungry.” His hips punctuate his sentence as he drives them into the soft flesh of your upper thigh. 

Feeling the rigid bulge against your thigh, your breath catches in your throat. You reach down and pull his head off of you, his lips still poised to kiss. You let out a giggle and move your hands down his neck. 

“Yours or mine?” You ask, flipping the collar of his shirt between your fingers. 

“We’re facing yours.” 

Bracing yourself against his trailer, you push yourself off of it, and grip the collar of his shirt like a leash on a dog, towing him in the direction of your quaint little caravan. You carefully walk up the steps and throw open the door, muttering a word of warning to not trip. He does anyway, too drunk and too horny to watch his feet. 

As soon as you’re inside, Jimmy’s got his hands wrapped around your waist and he doesn’t hesitate before lifting you up onto the small kitchen counter. Giving you room to sit, he pushes the tins of coffee and tea back against the wall. His hands slip underneath the fabric of your dress, ghosting along the curve of your ass and to the roundness of your thighs, his fingers leaving trails of heat everywhere they go. 

“Mmm, baby, you feel like you’ve got a fever. Your body’s on fire…” 

You hum, adjusting your hips on the counter. “There ain’t a single person to blame for that besides you, Jimmy….” 

He chuckles and lets his hands continue their journey, sweeping around to the front of your kneecaps, which he gently pulls apart. His inky hues connect with yours as he slowly lowers, getting to his knees in front of you. You watch him with quirked lips, indicating amusement, though your eyes are bleeding lust. 

Jimmy takes your dress in his hands, lifting it up to expose your center. The satin of your panties is already stained with arousal. It’s leaking into the fibers and creating a wet spot.

“Hooo’, baby… look at that.” His smile is proud, delighted that he’s responsible for it. 

“I hope you saved room.” You tease. 

“Oh, honey…” Jimmy runs his thumb along the clothed slit, and you shiver. “I always have room for dessert.” 

His fingers hook around the elastic of your panties and yanks them down. He leaves your garter belt on, as it poses no nuisance to him. Now free of fabric, your cunt clenches visibly as he nears her. His lips part, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your slick folds. Your hand snaps to his shoulder, gripping it hard. “Fuck, Jimmy… I…” 

Your hand moves to gather the dress of your skirt up, pinning it in place. The other hand finds a home in Jimmy’s soft, brown locks, pulling tight as his tongue laps at your cunt with a flat tongue. You mewl happily. What a sight; your nylon-covered legs over the shoulders of the most handsome man you’d ever met, his head buried between your thighs. 

His tongue flexes, points, and flicks at your quickly swelling clit. You shudder and clamp your legs around his head, a full body reaction. “Huh… Jimmy… oh my god.” 

He kisses her again, his tongue stretching down to meet your leaking entrance. Now he’s the one vocalizing; you’re sweet, pink and wet and he can’t help himself. Another kiss, but he closes his lips around your clit to suck on it gently. 

He pulls away, just for a second to ask: “Feel good?” 

You nod hurriedly and tighten your grip in his hair, pulling his head back and forth onto your cunt. Your middle finger twirls around a single curl and you hum a string of expletives, forcing his tongue deeper into your folds. 

“Mm! – yeah! – baby! –” Jimmy says in between your forced thrusts. He’s not used to you taking control like that, but like hell he’s going to complain. 

The white hot coil in your stomach winds tighter, creating an inexplicable pressure in your lower abdomen. Jimmy’s relentless, as if he knows this, and keeps at it. Not that you had any plans of loosening your grip on his locks. Mirroring your strength, Jimmy’s hands grip your thighs tight, pressing them open as far as they’ll go. You throw your head back and a deep moan escapes your lips, expelling some of the built up tension. 

“Fuck, fuck… Jimmy… right there… right there….” 

Jimmy suckles your swollen clit, and brings one hand to your entrance, teasing an intrusion with the tips of his fingers. They breach it, just enough to make your whole body tense up, and the coil snaps. All at once, you buck your hips forward, forcing Jimmy’s digits inside your cunt, his nose bumping into the flesh above her. He feels every shuddering clench, and rides it out, lapping at her like an ice cream cone. 

Once the slick pulses subside, he pulls back and brings his palm to his face, wiping his glistening chin. For a second, he admires it, tilting his hand back and forth, watching as the collected spit and arousal catches the light. 

“Mm-mm-mmm! Now that’s something to be thankful for, baby.”

Through labored pants, you mutter a response. “Oh, I’ll show you thankful, baby. Get on the bed.” 

[dawnoftime22]

w the story u just wrote (just be here) maybe a part 2? where the reader is pushing away/snappy at tay orrr just another part in general :3

totally ok if not! i love your writing 💋💋🐈

look after you.

| T.S

Warnings: overstimulation (loud music w/ headphones, hot temperature), a bit of R breaking down, anxiety, taylor getting anxious of your relationship

Summary: After a week of numbness, you start distancing yourself from Taylor and saying some things you don't entirely mean. Taylor was just worried for you, but tries her best to find a way to you.

Word Count: 4.1k

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

A/N: you see what happens with me when I proofread is...it was 3.5k words. then it jumped up to 4k and I had to proofread again 😭 have fun everyone

Request A/N: you're lucky I had an extra photo I couldn't decide from the last one :P I thought tay looked too sad...but here<3

| Started on 14/11/2024, 11:26 PM |

| Finished on 21/11/2024, 5:30 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

Request Guidelines | Part One, 'just be here.'

"When I'm losing my control, the city spins around. You're the only one who knows to slow it down."

| ——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

You were staring out the window of the car, watching the buildings go by in a blur of time. Supposedly, you were going to stay at the park earlier today, but because it was so hot and humid outside, you had to cancel any plans of a sweet picnic date.

As the drive goes on, the car reflects through windows of botique shops and restaurants, showing it from the view of anyone outside.

In your mind, unprecedented feelings were swirling without a care. It was different from anything normal, but still as blank as your whole week has felt. It confused you. Your music was playing in your headphones as you try to distract yourself from the poking thorns going through your body, frustration threatening to break the walls of resistance.

The sun was striking through the clouds, blinding anyone who'd dare to look up. You were sure fate was laughing in your face by making the overwhelming feeling worse.

All you wanted to do was go back home. That was it. To be back in your bedroom, curled up, stowed away, casted away. Anything.

The more that time went by, Taylor was starting to notice the quietness that overlayed the drive. There was music playing on low volume by the speakers, and you were usually a quiet person, but the way you had your headphones on made her concerns grow.

She could see how glued your eyes were to the window. You didn't even move or sing to one of her songs that had come up in the car, which was all the more worrying. You were her biggest fan, but you most probably had the entire world blocked out by now.

"Baby? You okay there?" she calls softly over the music, turning it down until it was barely audible. You heard her, but you didn't respond or turn to look.

Her eyes flicker over to you for a moment, but she needed to focus on her driving. You kept your eyes on the window, starting to wish she won't even try to speak to you again just so you didn't have to try to explain.

But eventually, the car comes to a gentle stop at a red light, and she turns her head to look at you. She tries again, even softer this time. "...Sweetheart?"

Her teeth sank into her lip. She thought, maybe you had your music on too loud; because you had a tendecy to do that whenever you had trouble with your mind.

She runs through it in her mind for a moment, hesitating to intrude, but soon she reaches out, going to give two gentle taps on your shoulder. You felt it, but you leaned away, tensing as you keep your eyes on the window.

Without missing a second, her eyebrows furrow, now confirming that you heard her, but you were ignoring her. The situation was growing entirely alarming.

Her mind reels, but she leans back into her original position, her eyes focusing on the roads. Here and there, she'll check on you, trying to make sure you were alright— at least physically.

By the time she was driving along the familiar roads of your neighbourhood, where you lived together in one house, she thought to decide at least one more time.

She took in a breath to only sigh it out quickly. "We're almost home, baby..." she murmurs softly, trying to find chance for the smallest movement.

Your shoulders lowered...just a little, but it was more you slumping into the seat than relaxing. Right after, a grumble mixed in with a whine came as a response. Her eyes flickered to you, just for a moment.

"You look lost today, sweetheart..." she says in a mere whisper. The little shift in your leg had spoken thousands of words more than the quietness thats been passing.

Her teeth bit her lip, deeper this time. "Is there anything you want me to do? Like...a hug? A kiss? Or...we can stop by your favorite bakery..." she murmurs softly. Her eyes travel the area, recognizing the little delicious bakery right around the corner.

You bit your lip, your shoulders tensing as you kept your eyes firmly on the window. There was an odd feeling to let her sentence pass again, but the silence hung too uncomfortably in the air. The fact that you even thought to ignore her was tormenting.

What even was the word to it?...Tired. You were just tired. But it wasn't that kind of tiredness, or even the physical— it was just because your emotions felt like they were on the brink of cracking out and your heart and mind was dazed trying to fight it.

"I don't...need anything...just send me home." you mumbled with a slight edge, feeling the spite in your chest rise all the more. You were growing to only hate yourself if anything, instead of her.

The arrangement of words still bit her in her heart. 'Send you home,' as if she was only dropping you off somewhere instead of going home with you.

"Is there something you're mad at, baby?" she questions softly, but the words she spilled weren't meant to come out so...direct. She nearly wronged herself of her own suddenness.

Your mind stuck on her sentence. You could tell she was anxious just by the way her finger was tapping on the steering wheel. Of course you weren't mad. Well, you were, but not at her.

"No, stop, its nothing...I'm fine." You try to sound assuring, but you were sure your tone sounded too ignorant. Ironically, the both of you were worrying over your tones.

Taylor stays quiet for a moment. "...Are you sure?" She sounded softer. All you could do was shrink into your seat. You wanted to curl your legs up only to remember you were wearing your shoes.

"Yeah, just..." you slowly sighed in a near huff, crossing your arms, looking further back away to the view outside.

You knew it was what some considered to be 'wrong,' acting this way. But you felt overwhelmed. Too much going on to explain, even if it looks like nothing on the outside.

The sun was lowering further on the horizon, and she was soon nearing your shared home. After a moment, she slowly turns the car into the driveway, parking gently.

When you felt the car fully stop, you shifted your position up a little more. She gathered her things, glancing to you, but only to see you unbuckle your seatbelt and grab your phone, opening the car door.

Taylor swallowed down her fears. For a moment, all she had was the silence. All she's ever had was exactly that throughout the drive, but now it was even worse.

Soon, she follows after you, turning off the engine to get out. And of course, she held the keys to the house, so you were waiting at the porch for her, looking down and nibbling at your lip.

As she walks, she fishes the keys out from her pocket, finding the one for the front door.

She didn't want to start anything outside, so she steps on the porch beside you and unlocked the door first, twisting the key to then gently push it open.

Before she could even fully open it, you weaved yourself in from the gap between her and the door. She felt your shoulders brush, but she takes in a breath to calm herself, and slid the key out so she could step in. The door closes behind her.

Her eyes flicker to you in concern. "Baby," she started, watching you get your shoes off. But right after you took your socks off, you went to turn around. She hadn't seen you look at her even once in the past few minutes.

"Hey." She reaches her hand out, gently going to stop you from taking any more steps with her fingers embracing your wrist. You paused, freezing at the warmth.

"We need to talk." Her voice was soft. Softer than the music that was playing in your ears, and oddly she didn't sound mad at all.

A lump was in your throat. "I told you, I'm fine, Taylor." You nearly turned to look over your shoulder. But you looked down instead. Taylor took one step forward, wanting to be closer to you, but not pushing your space.

"It doesn't seem like it ever since we got in the car," she whispers, her hand on your wrist slipping down to your fingers, intertwining them.

She looks into your expression, tilting her head to try and see your face fully. She could see a glistening look in your eyes, and the slightest hint of red in your nose.

"Please." she breathed out. The silence was deafening, and cut the both of you to the core. Your mind was too scattered to speak, and you were trying your hardest to not break right then and there.

But you gently slip your hand out from hers, and she watches as you walked away, your path making its way to the bedroom.

There was a will for her to say something, to call you back, but there was a sign that you needed some kind of space alone after all that, and especially after you spent the time in the car, a place you disliked sitting in.

Even if she wanted to desperately know what the matter was, she didn't want to force you, or overwhelm you up to a certain tipping point.

Deciding to let it go, she sighs softly and goes to the couch. She hadn't even taken her shoes off until now, leaning down to slip them off her feet. It gave her relief as it felt suffocating earlier, but her heart wasn't spared any relief.

When she sat down, she felt a brush of fur against her skin. She nearly jumped, her head instantly looking to what met her arm. It was Meredith, looking at her curiously. She hadn't even noticed her there. Thankfully, she hadn't sat on her cat.

She breathes out the exhaustion in her lungs and leans back against the couch. Her hands cover her face, trying to make sense of it all. Then, those hands run over her cheeks and eyes, right before she let them fall carelessly onto the couch.

After a second, she looks to Meredith. She was laying there with her green eyes and cute scottish fold ears. Taylor's lips pursed, and she reaches out, giving Meredith a gentle scratch atop her head. Her fur was so soft.

She decides to distract herself, leaning back and resting her eyes closed. But it was too quiet, even as her cat purred beside her. Of course she was kept company, but the company wasn't you.

A sigh escapes her mouth and she opens her eyes again, blinking away the fuzziness. Somehow, the blonde manages to grab out her phone. It unlocked as soon as it saw her face, and she looked through her photos of today, seeing one of you in the car earlier today, but you were laughing, looking at a bracelet she had made. At least, until the disappointment of your cancelled picnic.

Was that it? Did she disappoint you too much? Was she having a relationship fallout? Of course not. You loved her with all your soul, and when you needed to, you took your time comforting every inch of her heart as she did for you. Every smile shared was of pure sweetness. It wouldn't make sense for you to simply part from her, even if the fear was deep in her veins.

But then it clicked to her.

The line of connection rose up from when you were numb and dozing off all you could few days ago. You did seem like you were getting better, and she gave comfort every time a bad thought came to you, but it wasn't until now your emotions were coming in again. She worried, even if it should be good, the concerning part is you were snappy and pushing yourself away from her.

But then— this morning too, you had forgotten to bring your bag that usually goes over your chest, which always gave you feeling a sense of ease and safety with the weight of it. Knowing how much your body could feel too light without it, she offered you hers, but you waved her off, thinking it was silly.

When you walked in the park together, your hands were in your pockets, fiddling slightly. She hated the amount of heat the sun had, but you hated it even further. You were talking to each other fine, at least until you were walking back to the car. You got quieter, mindlessly looking down the path, seeming almost bored at everything, or trying to distract yourself from the hot temperature.

Whats even more worse was you woke up earlier than she had. It was understandable that you could have possibly felt overwhelmed— because as much as you loved cuddling, you hated how longer your day would feel, and sleep certainly wasnt an option because you had fully woken up by then.

She lets out a gentle breath, knowing she needed to get to you. There was no telling what could rise up, but all she wanted was to keep you safe. Keep you in comfort.

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

The room was quiet. It was raining, and it's been raining a lot as of lately.

The ceiling fan was humming overhead like usual. The air was so cold, your leg had to seek warmth under the folded covers.

But most of all, the room was dark. You couldn't get yourself to turn on the fairy lights hanging over the walls, even as the skies were gray, and the sun was starting to set, which only dimmed the daylight that spread in the room more. All you wanted was to sulk.

You hated it. Hated how much your mind was stirring up every bad thought you could ever have. Like you were blaming yourself for everything that ever happened, but you were also so extremely angry at everything else. It was a duel of two.

What exactly was that 'everything else' was? Well, really, the only thing you could focus on was the crazy temperature change that bugged your mind, going from the sunny, sweaty weather, then straight to what should be a perfect, cozy rain, but the cold was just too cold. There was no in between. You were sure the world might be ending at this point.

The interactions with Taylor kept reeling in your mind. It was like pages of a book flipping over and over, but it had the same memory showing. It was tiring, it was consuming you enough to send you into a spiral.

A sigh left your lips, and you buried your face into your hands. You wished the warmth you felt was the crook of Taylor's neck.

Oh, god, she was probably so mad at you. Blaming you back just as your mind was. What were you to do? The way you ignored her was outright cruel. You shouldn't have even done such a thing. Why hadn't you spoken about it? Well, there was no way she could have understood in the moment.

Right as your thoughts were going back and forth, a gentle creak came from the door behind you.

Taylor stood there, gently opening it to see you. There you were. She lets out a breath in relief, just a little, but there was no doubt that worry coursed through her mind when she saw how dark the room was. You clearly soaked all the gloomy atmosphere that you could.

But she wasn't focused on that. She was more concerned about the sight of you. You were just about curled up into a ball, like a cat frightened, but in the centre of the bed. Your arms hugged your legs and your head rested on your knees, staring out into the sheets of the bed.

"Baby?" she whispers out softly. That sweet nickname she always uses for you uttered out her lips without difficulty. You turned your head ever so slightly, your hand tightening in on itself as your fingers furled into your jeans.

When Taylor notices the movement and sees just the smallest glimpse of your face, she takes a step forward to be closer. You tensed a little, slowly slumping forward to your knees.

A gentle sigh escapes her lips, and she carefully went to sit down beside you, the bed dipping with her.

"Baby...whatever it is, I'm sorry, okay? I just...want you beside me again." Taylor says softly. Her voice was a near whisper, to softly get you back to her, as if any longer, you'd disappear in the blink of an eye. Your eyes squeezed in guilt at her words.

"Its none of your fault, Tay, I promise..." you whisper, the words stumbling over each other in the pace it came out. Taylor bit her lip gently.

She was hesitant, but she wanted to help soften the situation. "Okay, but is it...because we couldn't have a picnic earlier, sweetheart?" she asks. You divert your gaze off to the bed, frowning a little in hesitance as you thought about it. It was part of the reason, but not entirely. Even you couldn't tell what was wrong. All you knew is that you hated it.

You then reply by giving her a shake of your head. She could see the gesture clearly, and doesn't press any more on the matter, but moves closer to you on the bed. Her arm brushed against yours.

A breathless exhale escapes your lips. You leaned into her. She didn't hesitate to wrap wrap her arms around you, keeping you warm. Relief ran through her when you let her hold you, and the same was going through yours, having missed her embrace. Of course she would be there for you just to love you as much as you deserved.

Your arms tighten around her, and your face buries into her chest. She closes her eyes, giving you a squeeze and nuzzling the top of your head.

After a bit, she could feel the headphones underneath her chin, and she leans back, looking to your eyes. "...Is this okay?" she whispers, lightly grasping your headphones. You gave her a nod, letting her take them off.

Once she set them aside, her hands return to you, but cupping your cheeks gently. She lets her mind wander, wanting to understand you. You look into her eyes, your lips downturned into a frown mixed with a pout. She then takes a gentle breath in.

"You're exhausted," her voice breathed out. Even if you had been numb, unable to feel your feelings, it wouldn't be surprising for anyone to feel overwhelmed and tired after it. Her thumbs gently caressed your cheeks. Your lips were a pout as you nod, insistently almost. You were extremely exhausted, too fed up of everything.

Your mouth opened, but you couldn't get your words out, and you exhaled sharply, leaning more into her. She held you closer, assuring you to take your time in her quietness.

"Its too much. I'm..." Your hand clenches into her shirt and you sighed. Noticing the struggle in you to speak, she gently rubs your back.

"Frustrated?" She suggests, trying to gently help finish your sentence as she tilts her head. She wishes she could have pieced the signs together sooner.

Another breath left you, and you turn your face out, just a little bit, going to grab her hand and holding it for a while. But it didn't take long for you to eventually fiddle with her fingers.

She can see the anxiety stirring up in your actions, and her eyes soften. "I know, baby...I get it," she whispers softly, her other hand returning to your back.

You relax into her hold, nuzzling closer into her as you felt the soothing movement like a warm blanket, covering you.

"Shh...I love you. You're safe with me," she murmurs, moving both you and her in the smallest rocking motion.

"I'm not mad at you, or anything. I promise, sweetheart, I was just worried, and I miss you," she reassures, her voice a whisper right next to your ear. You sniffle gently, feeling the swelling in your throat.

"I'm not going anywhere..." she could feel the skin of her neck getting stained by your built up emotions, all that was kept inside starting to overflow into her embrace.

You buried your face further, a couple tears leaving your eyes by their free will. "Just..." she starts quietly, in thought of her next words.

"Cuddle with me for a bit, hm?" she tilts her head, brushing your hair back from your face, and giving you a smile, even after everything thats happened that day.

You looked at her with gleaming eyes and a red tinted nose, nodding, having been wishing desperately for just a cuddle, but your thoughts were too tightly woven up together to have said anything any sooner.

She gently pulls you closer. You felt safe in her arms. You always did. As if they protected you from the rest of the world, and all its matters.

"I'm sorry I can't give you peace. I...first this numbness, and now this, I...don't even know, Tay," you whisper breathlessly, shakily, your shoulders were tense as the tears dampened her shirt.

Taylor held her lip, quiet for a moment before she rests her cheek against the top of your head. "You give me peace more than anyone could...even at your lowest."

Her hands gently ran through your hair, feeling every strand. "You're the sweetest person I know," she whispers.

You nibbled on your lip, slumping slightly into her in your defeat. "Not today I'm not..." you whispered back.

Taylor's hands pauses, and she takes a deep breath in, leaning back to look at you with a gentle but stern face. "Today, you were overwhelmed," she says, her eyes looking into yours.

Then, her expressions soften, and her shoulders relax. "That's understandable," she reassures, one hand going to your cheek, her thumb wiping away your tears. You watch her with emotion on your face, unable to say anything else.

She continues. "But it doesn't mean you're not sweet...or loving. Or caring." Every point she reasoned stood to their very own without a way to be fought, making themselves known in your mind.

"You were frustrated with your senses and feelings, sweetheart, please don't be too hard on yourself." She gazes at you, the back of her index finger wiping the remnants in the corner of your eye.

"It happens...okay?" she whispers, planting a sweet kiss to your forehead. "Sometimes, you just have to let it go..."

"I promise you," she murmurs, cradling the back of your head. "Just listen to the room." the fan hums. The wind passed by your ears in sweet quiet greetings. Sometimes the bed creaked at certain movements.

"Our breaths..." She gently took a deep breath in, holding it before releasing, guiding you slowly. You followed, seeing her eyes, looking into them to see the calmness inside. She nods in gentle approval.

"Thats it, feel your heart..." Her hand goes down to your chest, her other one grasping your hand gently to rest on the beat of your heart, every thump, going even through your clothes.

She then brings your other hand to her own chest. "And mine."

Anything left of your tears had dried down on your skin, and soaked into her shirt until the next wash it gets. You relaxed a little more, let yourself breathe and focus on just her.

"Thats all you need," she whispers, a small smile raising on the corner of her lips.

"I love you. So much," she says, still holding your hands. You smiled tearily, leaning in closer, and she let you rest your forehead against hers.

"I love you, too..." you whisper, your voice breaking a little. It was quiet. It was sewn rest.

She stays there, soothing, keeping you with her presence, giving you reassuring touches and kisses.

You needed a moment to settle down, to breathe, someone to lean on and give you warmth.

"Everything will be okay."

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

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[showsandstuff]

Am I the only one who is disappointed with Caitvi in season two? When I watched the first season I had the biggest caitvi brain rot because they actually gave me SUCH a fun dynamic with them. Buddy cop Caitvi was hilarious, I loved that so so much!

And season 2 started of strong imo but then it rushed through everything. I loved the scene in the cell, obviously, but it was misplaced. Your sister is about to kill herself girl what are you doing this is not the time!! And other than romantic and sexual tension there wasn't all that much left of their previous dynamic aside from the brief scene in episode six...

Idk, I think I'm just annoyed. Usually when I see a non canon gay ship get more traction than the Canon lesbian couple, I just assume it's misogyny or lesbophobia, and move on with my life. But I can't even do that here because Caitvi was WAY more popular in season 1 (as they should).

Jayvik isn't getting somewhat more popular in season 2 because people don't like lesbians, but because their arcs are connected so strongly to each other. (Also I'm not saying that Jayvik is now more popular than Caitvi, but it's like a graph where the super high stocks caitvi are still even while Jayvik is skyrocketing rn)

Wanna know why Jayvik wasn't all that popular in season 1? Because (after act 1) their arcs were mostly separate, safe for a couple of moments. Viktor worked on his body and Jayce was doing politics.

Caitlyn and Vis arcs intertwined more, they actually did shit together and it was beautiful, funny, romantic, EVERYTHING!

Also a fun opposites attract buddy cop dynamic is also just more fun than men who do science together (in my personal opinion)

Now let's look at Caitlyn and Vis relationship in season two.

It starts of strong. I momentarily thought that Caitlyn was uncharacteristically mean to Vi when she refused to become an enforcer, but she apologized for it later and I recognized the fact that Caitlyn was grieving. Then once we get to episode two and three I could already feel their relationship being a bit more odd. The kiss (though I cheered) didn't feel right. I felt like something was missing, and that was their chemistry from season one. Also I feel like we glossed over too many decisions that Caitlyn made, and I think Vi should've put a stop to it sooner. But overall I was okay with them in act 1.

Then we had a timeskip and the two were fully separated. Act 2 literally started with Caitlyn in bed with another woman, like we can see they're not together anymore. Caitlyn has obviously changed, there is not much of the sweet cupcake left that we had come to love in season 1, and Vi is boxing and getting drunk.

Then they meet and like... Vi calls Cait cupcake, and Cait switches sides IMMEDIATELY? GIRL WTF?!

I get that Caitlyn wasn't entirely on Ambessas side the entire time, but I had hoped for more drama first. So you're telling me the very next interaction the two have after their heart wrenching falling out is them making up again? Come on.

Then we had act 3 and overall it was better I think but the timing of their hot scene in the cell was just odd, like what about your sister about to kill herself? I was very happy and hyped in the moment but then I realized how rushed this was. Why? Why make em fuck right here? And in the final act, the two weren't together because again, their arcs were not as connected. And that's actually pretty cool to have a couple who do their own things! But it doesn't help their relationship when they, in turn, aren't given enough time to develop as a pair!

I feel like season 1 did this incredible job of setting these characters up, showing us why they work so well together and why they would fall for one another. And season 2 gave us pay off for it but with very little set up, which was needed because of how Cait changed throughout the season. I don't mention Vi here because she did not change. She had her drunk boxing phase, which we got nothing but a montage off, but everything else is basically season 1 Vi aside from very few things here and there. Like her becoming an enforcer wasn't a character change for Vi, her finally letting go of powder and calling her sister Jinx, wasn't a big character moment for Vi, they were pay off for a set up we didn't get enough of.

SO TO GET TO MY POINT:

S2 was rushed. We should've AT LEAST gotten 3 seasons, like minimum, because there was a whole lot of plot and very little moments in between for characterization. Especially for Caitlyn and Vi and their relationship to each other.

I still generally prefer Caitvi to Jayvik, but only because of season 1. Season 2 gave me the two things I wanted most (a sexy scene and a kiss) but forgot to give me the things that made me fall in love with this ship in the first place.

Which was the hilarious buddy cop dynamic of rich girl cop Cait, and broke butch prisoner Vi.

[mouthpoisons]

Something I want to see a lot more of in post-canon fics is Viktor not turning back to human, and still being stuck in full Arcane Harbinger form.

The main reason is for the angst and the drama: the damage is done, and he can't go back to human. He has to navigate his newfound romantic relationship with Jayce while also coming to terms with his transformation-as well as having a LOT of Identity issues and Body Horror-related trauma. (The "mask" literally split his face open. I imagine he probably gets a lot of unpleasant sensations from that.) He also has to learn to curb his newfound Control Freak tendencies and that it's Not Okay to try to turn people into walking soulless automatons just because they were rude to Jayce. (In Viktor's defense, the guy was an asshole who no one would miss.)

Not helping is that Viktor still has some of the unsettling Arcane abilities he developed. They've been greatly weakened, but he still has a limited version of them-and it really only hammers home his lack of humanity.

(Of course, that begs the question: will Viktor come to accept his current form, or will he begin to pursue a more... Cybernetic path in order to feel like himself again? Regardless, Jayce is with him every step of the way-and he'll help in any way he can.)

oh absolutely yes i love this angle so much... i think on the whole, postcanon stuff is hitting a lot more for me if him processing what he did and that dark place he went to also means processing what happened to his body and being comforted through it by jayce (and yknow what, both of their bodies, jayce spent a whole episode in a torture nexus and has been irreperably damaged too and he hasnt really had a moment to sit with it yet). i appreciate a pure fluff magical fix-it and people are drawing such sweet art of them reemerging and vibing in different universes as essentially pre/early show versions of themselves but also theres so much potential for infinite interesting and complex thematics here and i hope people will see the value in exploring The Entire State Of It All. you guys better not forget the message that imperfection is lovable

we have no damn clue what happened to them at the end there and the options truly are limitless. a beautiful fanfic for every possible mood and every possible needed genre of catharsis is hopefully gonna come out of this and i will be Sat and Reading. i want them both to wake up in a meadow just like the one wizard viktor teleported baby jayce to. i want them cosmically entwined in space forever. i want them covered in magical scars and they have matching bad legs and shards of crystal embedded in their hands and they get to adore every inch of their mangled selves and grow old together. i want viktor remaining a cosmic horror with half his face blown off and jayce still showing him infinite unconditional adoration and care

also just insanely potent monsterfucker potential lol. jayce get the hell in there and keep telling him how beautiful he is!!!!! chop chop!!!!!!!!!!!

[sinizade]

I've stumbled across your account because of Pantheon x Soraka content (Very cute). Besides that, what other cannon or non-cannon pairing do you appreciate in League?

I love this kind of question

Aphelios and Taric

"But Aphelios has a relationship with Sett", honestly? I hate how they built their relationship just because of a fetishistic fujoshi fandom, nothing against settphelios, but for me they don't work and Taric would treat Apehlios better than Sett

Lillia and Yone

"But she's a deer! They can't-" A relationship isn't just about sex, I like to imagine that their relationship is something more emotional than physical, that Lillia sometimes creates cute dreams in his mind while he sleeps or something like that, just kisses on the cheek and walking hand in hand at sunset, an innocent love

Lux and Sylas

The way people even appear from the sewers to hate this ship is scary, but anyway, I like their relationship and anyone who played Mageseeker knows that Sylas deceived Lux ​​because it was LITERALLY a matter of life or death and that he regrets having lied to her. Apparently their relationship became something "platonic" in Mageseeker since he seems to be in love with Lux, but does not make it clear what Lux's feelings for him are.

Miss Fortune and Samira

Dangerous lesbians falling in love, dangerous lesbians falling in love, dangerous lesbians falling in love, dangerous lesbians falling in love, dangerous lesbians falling in love, dangerous lesbians falling in love, dangerous lesbians falling in love

Twisted Fate and Graves

Honestly? I love them, I love their energy, I love how they work together, I love them completely Two pathetic gays trying to work together

Tryndamere and Ashe

I would never forget my favorite ship of all time, they are cute, they are adorable I love them SO MUCH 100% Male Wife and Girl Boss energy

Neeko and Nidalee

Their relationship is something I would love to see in a show, it's so sweet and gentle that it almost gives me an overdose of sweetness

Rell and Seraphine

I LOVE a ship with opposing dynamics and energies, moth and butterfly, she was punk and she did ballet, things like that, I also like to imagine that Seraphine sings to Rell

Soraka and Pantheon (obviously?)

Their dynamic is sweet, the warrior and the healer, the war and the peace, the celestial and the one who abhors the celestials (except her). I know I'm only saying this because I like the ship, but I think if RIOT created something for these two it would be very accepted in the community since they would both make a very interesting dynamic together.

Lucian and Senna

They are my parents. Joking aside, ever since Lucian was released in the game I dreamed of Senna being added to the game and when she was finally released I almost had a heart attack, THEY ARE SO CUTE

I think I'm done with my favorite ships (canon and non-canon) Thanks for asking! I love questions like that