#i know them way too well for them to be only in my head

[pepshee]

First Place

when you make a bet with your best friend—loser is forced to do what the winner wants—but his demands for you aren't exactly what you expected, but you're fully willing to comply.

Pairing - heeseung x fem!reader

Genre - friends with benefits, friends to ???, smut

Word count - 2k

Warnings - p in v, creampie, cliche, degrading (he calls reader a slut), fingering, mentions of other enha members, Mario kart mention, stripping, lmk if I missed anything!

A/N - I was gonna lowkey abandon writing but here I am.. back again... again, sorry if it's bad, and thank you to the anon in my inbox who gave me writing advice! i dont feel like using capitalization in this one so im not gonna... anyways.. enjoy! also yes im aware its kinda cliche

MDNI 18+

heeseung was always your best friend; he was always there when you needed him and vice versa. meeting him in high school was the best twist of fate ever. those four years would've ended up miserable had it been someone else.

there was a decent amount of girls after him, but that was never a bother. in fact, he was always your wingman, helping you find ways to ask out your crush without looking like a complete ditz. he had a couple of girlfriends throughout high school, but they never really lasted.

he was able to tell when you were upset and was somehow always able to pinpoint the reason. you'd never thought of him in a romantic light, although he was extremely attractive. it was like a forbidden fruit, something you were too scared to explore.

after graduation, applying to the same college as one another seemed scary. what if only one of you got in? what if neither of you got in? those worrying questions quickly disappeared when one day you both opened your results and found out you were both accepted.

he made new friends, and so did you, but one thing was that you never forgot each other. you both still regularly hung out and went to your usual coffee shops or shopping malls.

heeseung and his friends are at his dorm, and he had given you permission to come and go in his dorm without asking whenever you wanted whether he was there or not. his roommate, Jake, was hesitant about this at first, but just agreed to avoid drama, however, he grew to not mind it.

you were bored lying in your dorm room, so you got up to go to his dorm. upon walking in, you find him, his roommate, and his friends all huddled together in the living room, some on the couch, some on the floor, and the rest standing around. through a closer look, it wasn't hard to locate a couple of them, including heeseung, who were equipped with gaming controllers; they were playing video games.

one of his friends who wasn't playing hears the door opening and looks at you. you don't know his friends well, except for his roommate, but you did know their names.

the friend who saw you, jay, smirks upon noticing your presence. you didn't know the reason, but you just left it alone with a shrug of your shoulders. jay tapped heeseung—whose attention was occupied by whatever game it is that they're playing—and he replied without even looking away from the tv screen. "what is it? I'm trying to win, dude," he said. jay leaned into heeseung's ear and whispered something that you were unable to hear.

heeseung paused the game, earning him a few groans from his friends who also held controllers before turning his head to the door where you were standing. he smiled at you, "hey y/n! come here, we're all playing video games!" after walking over to him you both quickly realize there's no room on the couch for you to sit, but that problem didn't last very long. he hits his friend sitting next to him, sunghoon, not very hard but so sunghoon will know what heeseung is trying to get him to do.

sunghoon promptly got up, before you even got time to process him getting up, heeseung grabbed your wrist and pulled you to sit down next to him on the couch. it wasn't hard to notice the looks and smirks his friends gave each other once he did this, but you didn't think anything of it.

"why'd you show up to my dorm this time?" he looked at you, the game still paused, but it seemed his friends were more focused on you two rather than the game now. you let out a small laugh at his comment, "i got bored so i came here, but you're already busy i see." he shakes his head, "i'm not busy, we're just playing games, now watch me win," he smirks, he's always been quite cocky but it's part of his charm.

he unpaused it and continued the competitive game with an intense focus. after a bit, the game was over, and well, heeseung didn't win, but that's not important. he throws a playful fit about losing, and after a bit, he turns to you. "hey, lets play the hardest map on mario kart and whoever loses gets to boss the loser around, but it's just us two," he grins at his own idea, hoping you accept.

he almost cheers when he sees you nod, and signals one of his friends to hand you a controller. he selects the map, and as the game starts, he's completely in the zone; he really wants to win, to have power over you.

after crossing the finish line for the final time, heeseung had won, which makes you let out a groan of disapproval. his friends all laugh as heeseung lightly pushes and teases you. "I knew you were a loser!" he teases, making you hit him on the shoulder. "knock it off, i hate you, you have more experience!" you argue back, and he just laughs.

"okay so now I get to tell you what to do," he smirks. you roll your eyes, but he suddenly shooes his friends out of his dorm while they shoot him knowing looks, and mocking kissing gestures. it's like they know something you don't, which makes you nervous. why would they leave that easily?

after they had left, heeseung shifts around in his seat and turns back to you. "so.. now I need to think about what I'm gonna make you do.. maybe me and jakes dishes? the laundry?" he says, basically talking to himself. he just sits there thinking for a moment, occasionally throwing out random ideas until his face changes, finally landing on one. "y/n, we've been friends for a long time, yeah?" you nod, waiting for him to continue. "you know.. you're really pretty, and I think I've made my decision..." your heart flutters for a second at the tone he used; he never really talked to you like this before. he's told you you're pretty, but the way he said it this time was different.

"strip for me," his tone completely serious, lacking any bit of sarcasm or signs that he's joking. your eyes go wide, and you look at him, bewildered at what he chose. "seriously? strip? hee—" he stopped you before you could finish, "I'm serious, I've always felt something towards you, this is my opportunity, I choose for you to strip," his tone lowering, you can see the desire and the hunger written in his eyes.

through your utter shock, you take a moment to think, he is attractive.. you've always thought he was. what's the harm in this? why not just do it?

you started by removing your hoodie. once he realized you were down for his demands, he couldn't look away. then you removed your shirt, followed by your pants, now just leaving you in your bra and underwear. heeseung was just sitting back, manspreading, smirking at you. he'd never seen you so exposed like this before. "so pretty, your body is so sexy," he commented, you could see the growing bulge in his grey sweatpants.

suddenly, he stood up, grabbing your wrist dragging you to his bed before promptly pushing you down onto it. he quickly crawled on top of you and smashed his lips onto yours. it was unexpected but not unwelcome as you kissed him back and moved one of your hands to bury your fingers in his hair. as the kiss continued, your grip on his hair got tighter, earning a groan from him, while one of his hands explored your thighs.

his hand made its way to the wet patch on your panties, touching you over the cotton. this caused you to let out a whine at the feeling; you wanted more, wanted him to touch you more. he clearly noticed this, "beg for it," he demanded. he clearly wasn't going to give it to you that easily even though it was his idea. "please heeseung, touch my pussy, please.." your pleas made his cock twitch in his boxers, he finally took your panties completely off, sliding them down your legs.

he ran his fingers slowly and teasingly through your already wet and slick folds. "all this for me? didn't think you loved the idea of fucking your best friend so much, you're just a slut aren't you?" his degrading words just fueled your desire for his cock even more even though it probably shouldn't.

he slowly inserted one finger into your cunt, the feeling causing a small moan to release itself from your mouth. he then added a second one and started out slowly moving his fingers in and out of your hole, but then he sped up and even curled the slightly making them hit your g-spot at just the right angle. you moaned at the pleasure that took over you as he continued to scissor his fingers inside of you. his thumb started to rub your clit further stimulating your pussy.

"heeseung im s' close—" he removed his fingers without warning, making you whine at the newfound emptiness. before you could even question, he removed his sweatpants and his shirt. you could feel the drool forming at the sight of his chest and physique, but then your eyes landed on something even more exciting, the stain on his boxers due to his leaking cock.

he removed his boxers next, his large cock springing out, the sight of it made your eyes widen. how would he even fit? "it'll fit baby, don't worry, I'll make it fit," he said almost as if he had read your mind. he ran the tip of his cock through your slick folds and gave himself a couple strokes before finally lining himself up with your entrance. "i'm gonna fuck this pussy so good you hear me?"

he was so eager he didn't even go slow this time; he immediately rammed himself into you, enjoying the sight of the slight bulge he created on your stomach. he pulled out almost fully before thrusting back in, he repeated this process, making you a moaning mess. it was hard to tell where one of you started and where the other ended, "seungie- p-please.. keep going," you begged him, and he listened. he wasn't going to stop until you both came. you could feel his tip grazing your cervix, his cock stretching your pussy so good. you'd had sex before, but you could already tell heeseung is the best you'll ever get.

"come on baby, i know you're close, you like this don't you? like being my little slut," he was right, you did like it, you were close, he knew how to read you like an open book. "gonna cum—" is all you could manage to get out as the pleasure took over you making it almost impossible to form coherent sentences. not long after your words you let go, your release painting his cock forming a white ring at his base as he continued his thrusts chasing his own orgasm. "hold on love, i'm almost there, you can take it," he encouraged. his thrusts started to grow sloppy; he was close. finally, he came, his release painting the inside of your gummy walls. you'd never had anyone cum in you, you'd always had them pull out, but heeseung was different. you wanted him to cum in you.

he rolled off of you, now lying beside you as he brushed a sweaty strand of your hair out of your face. he looked at your bra still covering your tits, he leaned in to your ear and whispered "next time, I'm gonna fuck these pretty tits. I was so caught up with your pussy your poor boobs didn't get any love," he said almost sounding genuinely upset and sympathetic for them.

you wanted to ask what you two were now, but a pang of fear hit you; you were scared of his answer, so you decided to stay silent. you wanted to stay awake, but exhaustion was catching up. no matter how hard you tried to fight it, you couldn't. you finally closed your eyes and fell asleep, heseung followed soon after.

i hope you all liked it!! i'm not too confident about this one but yk.. anyways, this is only like the 4th evber fic ive ever written..... im aware its kinda fast paced, i did rush it oops....

[vanilleandclove]

how to disappear; jack abbot x f!trauma surgeon!reader

pittsburgh is roughly 58 square miles, large hospitals in metropolitans are usually 1.2 million square feet. only making ptmc extremely confining with a certain trauma surgeon and senior attending physician in the emergency room especially during hostility.

warnings: emotionally constipated adults, language, talks of children and marriage, semi-medical accuracies (i have several immediate family members in the medical field, this is basically in my regular lexicon), gore adjacent, mentions of past sex, age gap: reader is 30-33, jack is 47-49. word count: 4.1k notes: mdni. call me disorganized, my oc fic is on HOLD, until further notice :3. this is part one of two (?) ask/requests are open!

“I thought you were working day shift?” Parker asked, your eyes blinked roughly as they adjusted to the bright light of the patient’s board, “What’re you doing stuck down here?”.

“They requested for me to have a change of schedule to be on-call, couldn’t say no to the generous pay raise” you responded, cocking your head slightly to meet eyes with Parker, “Plus night shift always gets the most carnage”.

“You’re sick, you know that?” Parker chuckled, fist meeting your shoulder playfully before she walked off. 

Clipping on your hospital ID was muscle memory, both Heather and Robby referred to as “overworker’s disease”, you saw it as being stuck in the place for several years at a time.

You needed a vacation, sweaty hot sex, vodka, or weed; or maybe just all of those in that order. Your eyes were glossed over from the eyedrops you have administered before leaving Jack’s house, they did good to conceal the hours of crying and bloodshot eyes. 

But Bridget saw through that puffiness and reoccurring sniffle that matched the pout of your lips, she knew you well like you were her own daughter. She knew your breathing patterns were shallow and uneven, the eyebags that became a more pigmented purple, the constant fiddling of your rings. 

She knew you needed a break, a break in bed where you could cry it out and come back renewed with extra hours of sleep and extra takeout. 

“Honey, are you okay?” Bridget inquired, taking off her glasses and tucking them in her scrub undershirt, “You seem out of it”.

Your eyes darted towards her and all you could give her was a nod as you became tight lipped, worried that if you unclench your jaw for a second you’d break. Nevertheless, Bridget smiled and rested her hand on yours, knowing all too well what happened to you. 

What Bridget saw was your hair blown out but tucked up a tortoiseshell claw clip for it to be out of your way. She saw manicured short french tip nails, residue of black eyeliner in your waterline, hints of matte red lipstick that must have been taken off in a rush as it made your lips look as if they were bleeding. She saw gold bracelets of all different textures and patterns, rings stacked beautifully and meticulously, necklaces that would accentuate cleavage with the right dress, diamond earrings that twinkled when moving under the LED lights. 

She saw a woman who had just got stood up. 

“Good evening everybody”.

And she just stumbled upon the reason. 

You closed your eyes and sighed under your breath. 

Luckily being a different specialty department, you weren’t required to be given the gist of speeches by the physicians and nurses. Some may say it due to surgeons being “above”, you say it’s because of different structures in departments- you can learn just as much during rounds in the emergency room as you would post-op, if not, you’ll learn more. Therefore you were able to walk off into the bathroom.

You enjoyed your job, you were grateful for your job that led you to places you never thought you would be. You were grateful for the smiles, the laughter, the songs the patient requested to be played during surgery, the parents or loved ones that would hug you tight, and yes, the gore and carnage. 

You were also grateful that it led you to Abbot. 23, you were fresh out of an internship in Massachusetts, then you wanted a change of scenery. By 26, frequent hookups at your respective places were a casual way to start, end, and continue a week; just in time for your residency to finish and your fellowship to be fast-tracked due your rotations in the emergency department and competency exams. Hookups turned to dating by your 27th birthday, months later, Jack’s house was basically yours too. Now, you’re the attending who’s trying her hardest to hold it all in because a man decided no more to the most constant thing in your chaotic life- in a chaotic profession. 

You had put on a silk dress that flowed perfectly enough to accentuate your curves, you wore lingerie, black heels, and smelt fucking amazing. You shaved, you wore your expensive lotion you could only justify using on special occasions, you wore jewelry you’ve collected over the years and that Jack had given you. You went the whole 9 yards and more. 

“Okay so what is it?” you asked, sighing in defeat and barefooted in the living room, “You don’t want to go out, don’t want to talk about something you know I care about. Fuck Jack, you don’t even look at me when you know this is important”. 

“Sorry I didn’t know dinner reservations were imperative to having a conversation with you” Jack scoffed, stressed and unnerved, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Jesus christ just forget about dinner!” you raised your voice, your throat began to slowly burn, “I don’t care about dinner Jack. I care about being appreciated from my boyfriend when I put on a fucking dress and heels. I care about you walking into that door every morning and kissing me. I care about having sex and ordering fucking pizza” you ranted, your time was almost up as it crept closer to your shift.

“Do you want kids?” he blurted.

“What?”.

“Do. you. want kids?”.

You blinked in confusion, swallowing whatever you had planned to say and again to collect what he had just proposed. “I would like to have kids but with my job and yours, that seems unlikely. I don’t mind not having them”. 

“There was a positive test in the trash two weeks ago that you didn’t think to tell me about” he cleared his throat. 

Your brows furrowed, “It was a false positive, Heather did a work up with full labs for me” you looked to the ground not noting that it would’ve also been nice for him to know both of those things. “If a pregnancy test is sending you to avoid me like the plague; we have a bigger issue here Jack”. 

“It would’ve been nice to know that you were afraid you were pregnant that you told Collins before me”. 

“Do you think I’m punishing you for withholding information that was irrelevant to me after a day?” you were shocked almost, still confused at the hostility, “I wasn’t afraid of being pregnant, I was afraid of false hope”.

“I don’t want kids, that’s just not something I see in my future”.

“Our future” your voice began to crack more and more. Kids weren’t a dealbreaker by any means, the way Jack worded it to be something exclusionary in regards to you is what broke you. “I need you to tell me if this is what’s causing you fucking hurt me”. 

“It’s not- I just think we have a misconstrued view on the future of this” he pointed to both of you back and forth. 

“Jack forget about the sheer possibility of kids, why are you being distant?” you took a step closer as he took a step back, the action only shattering your heart more, the tears began to flow as you straightened your back, “What about marriage?”.

“Same as kids”.

You nodded, looking away from him, “I’m not going to change your opinions about either of those, I’m not going to try”. You inhaled before a sob erupted from your throat, “I have to be able to want those things without feeling like you’re going to walk away. God, you never once spoke about this before so why now? Why all of the sudden vows and kids are a dealbreaker when- if I remember this correctly- the past year you’ve been asking for baby names and what rings I would like? Was it just for show? Was I just for show?”.

“Of course you weren't,” he sighed yet again, his eyes piercing yours, “You’re you, I guarantee you’ll find someone else who wants both of those”. 

“I don’t want someone else Jack” you whispered, one tone louder and you’ll be a wreck in front of him. 

Silence creeped over the room and nothing but the shudder of your breath filled the room, “I guess this isn’t working” his own voice cracked as if his mind betrayed his actions. With that, years of your heart shattered.

“I guess not”. 

Jack was the same guy who held your legs as they rested on his during football games. The guy who tied the strings of dresses and kissed your shoulder, who stared in awe while you did your makeup, baked and cooked with you, danced to his best effort with you. Watched ‘Game of Thrones’ and ‘House of the Dragon’ with you every sunday without fail, not shy of commentary. 

He would fix your hair after sex, clean you up in the en-suite with warm water, would make your toes curl around his waist as an orgasm washed over you, would coax another orgasm out of you. He would massage your clit, knew exactly where your g-spot sat, made your breath hitch and your eyes roll back. He never pressured, only asked a near sixty times if you were okay and comfortable. He would never degrade you even if asked, the most he’d do would be spitting in your mouth and lightly choking you. Wasn’t shy about having his dog tags pulled or you wearing them, loved the twinkle in your eye every time his cock grazed the right spot. The man was a dog. If you forgot an undershirt under your scrubs, his cock would strain from the veins coating your breasts, the slightest graze would send him on a frenzy when you’d get home if both of you were up for it, loved the lingerie just as much as he loved you in pajamas and a worn out shirt from college. 

The same guy that would squeeze the back of your neck to relieve your worries, text you mid-shift about your wedgie and would fix said wedgie in passing, would wash your hair and body. Would watch every movie and TV show with a thousand questions, stare idly at you during every get-together as you mingled on your own with Heather. Every Fourth of July he spent with you, he was at ease, not jumpy or had his heart racing- you thanked therapy, he thanked you. 

He’d stand in front of you and be the same guy during company basketball and baseball games that coached you on the sidelines, guided your arm, gave you water. You wanted to marry him, your parents always said when you do get married, it should be with someone like him if not him. You wanted rings, his and her matching towels, garter tosses and to take off his suit in the same night. He knew that, hell the whole emergency department was well aware of your dream wedding that changed every now and then.

Now you stand there beneath yourself because that is all gone on a random Wednesday. Didn’t wait for the weekend for it to settle, for hell to freeze over. While you went crazy thinking the worst, you had a job to do, and it was barely August. 

Luckily, new staff and medical students were reserved for day shift, meaning you were secretly praying for both Robby and Collins sake. 

“We have a male MVC victim, 10 minutes out, Abbot wanted you on standby” Parker opened the bathroom door only to be greeted with your meltdown, “You okay? Want water or coffee?”.

You shook your head only for her to fully allow herself in, “You and I both know the way you’re crying is going to lead you to dehydrate” she continued, “What happened?”.

“We broke up” you responded, curt and without remorse, “I don’t want to talk about it”.

“Okay, but just know you can always go home”. 

“He’s home”.

You spent two minutes in there trying to gain your composure, worried that the MVC wouldn’t get the most accurate and resourceful amount of care with you like this. Splashing water against your face before exiting and being greeted with the beaming emergency department lights. 

You checked up on three different patients, smiling and asking if they were comfortable and okay with waiting just in case the MVC took up more time than usual. As you left the last, the MVC arrived and both you and Abbot occupied opposite sides of the gurney. 

The EMTs were able to stabilize him as much as they could, “Breath sounds are good so far a little too crackly but acceptable, there’s rigidity in his abdomen I need an chest scan to confirm bruising- I’ll call they always fast track me” you told Jack as you approached the trauma room, grabbing the phone as he took over, “Hey it’s Doctor L/n, I need a chest CT for a MVC victim, his abdomen is rigid and slightly distended with crackly breathing. No- I need you to take me up now, we’re already in a trauma room- okay, thank you see you there”. 

Turning back to Jack, evening out the creases in your navy scrubs, “They’ll take him now, I’ll take him up” you whispered, grabbing a hold of the gurney from the bottom, “Can you open the doors?” you asked, “Get Walsh for me too, if it’s something with his abdomen I shouldn’t do exploratory”. 

“You don’t only do exploratory surgery Y/n” Jack posed the statement as if you were undermining yourself for Walsh to be the scalpel junkie this shift.

“I know, Walsh is still learning the ways of being an attending, if anything I’m making sure she’s equipped to be in my stead when I’m not here” you argued back only for the MVC victim to regain his consciousness, “I know what I’m doing Doctor Abbot”.

“This morning it was babe, by the afternoon it was Jack, now it’s Doctor Abbot?” he queried, as if the whole ‘I guess this isn’t working�� bit was a skit. 

“Last time I checked this wasn’t-“ you looked down to the gurney to see a conscious man with a smile on his face, “Good evening sir, I’m Doctor L/n, you’re at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, I will be taking you up to CT now” you feigned a smile and eyed Jack, he knew that look.

The ‘we’ll talk about it later’ look. 

“You’re in good hands sir” Jack waved off. 

The elevator ride was calming, the tension in the trauma was thick enough to cut with a knife. You learned his name was Raymond Orser, he had a wife and a daughter, served a couple tours in the military, his sister lived in Pittsburgh while he lived in Philly. 

“So, what was the deal between you and salt and pepper?” Raymond asked, his breathing less labored as you both exited out of the elevator.

“Salt and pepper? Doctor Abbot?”.

“Or babe whichever you prefer” Raymomd joked, “Must’ve been a tough fight, my wife and I were the poster board for marital arguments about silly things- one time after my daughter was born we argued about the way the cereal box closed”. 

“He’s not my husband Mr. Orser, technically he’s just a colleague” you told him. Eyeing around you to see who was there, “We dated for 6 years today, it’s our anniversary, was supposed to wine and dine him before our shift but…”.

“Ah. You know, I’m only 39. I’ve spent a great deal of it loving my wife before I had even met her." You made a face that exuded confusion, “I know you’re looking at me crazy, but you just know. When’d you meet Doctor Abbot?”.

“When I was 23, about to be 24, he was also relatively new; he beat me by 3 years. Didn’t start dating until I was 27 and he was 41” you confessed, “What about you huh? How old is your daughter?”.

“She’s seven, had her after I got discharged. My wife and I had a shotgun wedding, very intimate”.

“Okay, we are just about to go into CT, I’ll be on the imaging side, you’re going to feel a little fluid in your IV, it’s to highlight and pinpoint what’s going on internally. I need to know if there’s any metal on you like jewelry below or above the waistline”.

“No, just my wedding ring”.

“That’s fine, this arm is going to stay up away from the imaging zone for the ‘highlighting fluid’, you’re going to feel a bit warm throughout your body, completely normal. If you feel nauseated it’s also pretty normal, we keep a wastebasket on standby so no worries” you clarified, giving him a smile before handing him off to the nurses. 

Going into the radiology room, both the radiologist and technician glanced over to you, “Good evening” you greeted, “His abdomen was rigid and slightly distended, did Foreman tell either of you?”.

They both nodded, putting on their glasses and administering the contrast fluid. “Any plans for the morning L/n? You and Abbot are celebrating your anniversary today, no?” Jackie the radiologist asked, her hand not leaving the mouse and her eyes leaving the desktop.

You shuddered under your breath, inhaling deeply, “Yeah, might just stay in today”.

As the scans progressed one thing became clearer, there was a bleed in Raymond’s organs, non-septic, but still worrisome. You immediately grabbed the intercom mic, “Okay Ray, the nurses are going to get you settled back downstairs for a work up, I’ll go over your scans with Doctor Abbot”.

Turning to the left you grabbed the phone on the desk and dialed for the emergency department, “Hi Bridget, I’m sending Orser down, the MVC victim. He has a rib fracture that's causing internal bleeding, a tension pneumo but his breathing sounds were clear- lightly shallow” you cleared your throat, “Tell Abbot to do a finger thoracostomy, I’ll meet him down there”.

Afterwards you phoned the surgical wing, “Good evening, I need an OR available on standby, I have a MVC victim with a tension pneumothorax and internal bleeding”.

Some days cardio and general hogged the ORs, trauma and the emergency department always had an OR prepped in the morning shifts. Gloria liked to boast about her surgical teams, how each specialty had their own set OR.

Heading down to the emergency room, it was less chaotic on the surface- the waiting room said otherwise. Every room was filled minus the trauma rooms, the hallway had spillover, and curtains were drawn. You decided to take your leave to peds, being greeted with a little girl with a rattling cough.

“Good evening, I’m Doctor L/n, who is this princess?” you greeted, snapping on your gloves.

“Your scrubs are different” the girl mentioned mid cough.

“Sorry, this is Amanda, she’s been having this ugly cough for two weeks, she woke up choking on phlegm” a woman spoke up, “I’m her aunt, her mom’s on her way”.

“Ah okay, well, Amanda, my scrubs are different because I’m a surgeon here. Don’t worry, you’re not a surgical case, I just help down here” you clarified, putting your stethoscope on her chest, “Did she cough up phlegm, if so what color?”.

“It was brown, though in the car she had a cough attack and I swear I saw red”. 

“Any history of asthma? Was she around any strong fumes?” you asked, “Amanda can you give me two big inhales and exhales?” you requested, putting your stethoscope on the girl’s back. As she inhaled and exhaled, all you heard was rattling.

“My sister- her mom has asthma, nothing too serious, she self carries though. Mandy got sick last week, her fever was moderate but she sweated a lot of it off during her sleep”. 

You nodded, putting your stethoscope back around your neck, “I’m going to order a chest x-ray, from the sounds of it, Mandy here has acute bronchitis, probably from a viral infection that went unnoticed” you smiled to them both, “Is she allergic to paracetamol or ibuprofen?”.

“No, just soy”.

“Perfect, due to her age, I’ll prescribe extra strength Tylenol and an albuterol inhaler, two puffs about 5 seconds apart when needed to stabilize your lungs sweetie” you told her aunt, walking out to tell Bridget for an x-ray on Amanda. 

“Abbot’s asking for you in south 14” Bridget said as you walked off, all you gave was a nod.

Opening the door and being met with a scene you would not have guessed to stumble upon out of the confines of your home. “Bridget said you wanted to see me?”.

“I’m not a prideful man” he sighed, you moved closer to the hospital bed he sat on, his prosthetic beside him, he was rubbing a cream on his stump- it smelt like eucalyptus. Jack never complained of phantom limb pain, though his hip would hurt every now and then. “But I do know that I am self-conscious”.

You remained silent, allowing Jack to speak. You did most of the talking earlier, now, it’s his turn. “I don’t know if I’ll be a good dad, weddings require some level of dancing that I just can’t put aside that difference to give to you- and I want to, I can’t shake that feeling” he sucked in a deep breath, “There are days where I have coax myself off the ledge, today being one of them”.

“Jack I-” you sighed in disbelief, “I don’t care about those things- ever- you’re not taking away anything by us not having kids or not getting married-”.

“You want those things”.

“There was a point in my life where I wanted you, one thing I know for certain, I never regretted it. Though I would’ve regretted not doing anything, you gave me the best sex of my life” you joked lightly, “If loving you and being with you means I don’t get a wedding or kids, then I’m okay with that. Though, you would be one hell of dilf”.

He chuckled at the comment, “Shit, I’d be in my 60s by the time the kid was in high school”. 

“Still my sexy man” you commented, “I love you okay? But we have a job to get to and a vet who is keen on you”.

“Orser?” Jack questioned as he stood up with your assistance, popping his prosthetic back into place. You nodded, giving him a longing look, “I can’t kiss you- wouldn’t be able to stop”.

“Yeah yeah, happy anniversary cowboy” you smiled, feeling your phone vibrate with a page to the OR, “Shit, emergency surgery”.

“I love you cowgirl” Jack spoke up as you ran off. It was already 4:30 in the morning, the heat kept piling up. 

The surgery was needed for a thoracotomy on a 67 year old who took a fall down her stairs which caused a cardiac tamponade, it took 2 hours and 40 minutes to repair, drain and control her hemorrhage. Caught early, it took less time than usual. You reeked of pungent acid with a hint of metal from the blood, afraid it was stuck in your hair.

Luckily your shift was over 10 minutes ago, you gathered your things and looked around for Jack, being greeted with Heather and Frank.

“Dana, have you seen Jack? Good morning to you all” you stretched, looking around to see no sight of Jack or Robby.

“Up on the roof with Robby”.

“Jesus, the midlife crisis twins” Frank joked under his breath, only to be met with the dirty looks of you and Heather.

“When he comes down tell him I’m in the truck” you sighed, tapping on the desk before letting your hair down from the clip that has held up your hair through blood and way too many body fluids.

dividers by @cafekitsune

[yandere-writer-momo]

I decided to treat you all to a terrifying piece. Now this man will be accurate to his time period and terrifying!

Also, for @coolgirl32 since I haven’t fulfilled their request yet! So I combined those aspects with this lovely man. It’s not too detailed since I’m still trying to get out of my slump.

Yandere Head Canons: Lock and Key

Yandere 1950’s Husband x Fem Reader

TW: Yandere themes, obsession, MISOGYNY (microdose), BEING HELD AGAINST YOUR WILL (it isn’t obvious), isolation, HORROR, murder (mention), extreme jealousy, possessiveness, DO NOT ROMANTICIZE THESE BEHAVIORS OR THEMES, and OBSESSION

Robert Jones

Robert was your husband, the only man you’ve ever dated. He was a lawyer at his own law firm. Cold and calculated to others, but he had a soft spot for you. The ideal husband who was only loving towards you… almost too loving.

“Darling, I’m home!” He would always greet you with a hug and a kiss before he’d enjoy the dinner you’d make him.

Robert always sung your praises at how well you kept your home. The instant you washed the dishes, he’d hug you from behind to sniff your hair like a dog. He never seemed to get enough of you… he’s been this way since the two of you were in school.

His hands often grabbed at your hips and thighs. You swore you felt him shake as if he was holding himself back from devouring you like a rabid animal.

Robert was clingy behind closed doors and heavens he was such a possessive man… he had a long list of rules of her interactions with others. Especially other men.

“You’re my wife, dear. I can’t have another man seeing how beautiful you are.” Robert would whisper from the crook of your neck. “I’d have to kill them.”

Hell, he didn’t want you to even speak to the milkman nor the mailman. The reason being that you were too pretty and he wasn’t there to protect you. Even the other housewives weren’t allowed over.

But his consistent isolation made it so lonely… so you began to ask if you could have a job just like a few of the other women had.

Every time you asked if you could get a job, he’d always scoff. He was indeed a typical man of this time period.

“Women can’t work. They’re meant to stay at home and take care of the house.” Robert would always tell you with a click of his tongue. “Do I not give you a cushy enough life?”

You’d always reassure him and he’d smile at your submission.

“We should try for a baby soon… I hate leaving you alone in this house all the time.” He sighed. “Work has been so busy… but you’ll look so pretty all swollen. Don’t you think so, darling?”

Now you were never lacking in the bathroom. Robert was all you knew after all… and he was well endowed. Yet a small part of you wondered if other women’s husbands were constantly on them all the time. That their husbands would obsessively whisper how much they belonged to them…

Yet Robert never allowed you the time to think of it too often before he’d pull you into another round. He couldn’t stand it when your mind wandered from him. He should be all you think about because he was your husband after all.

If only you knew the lengths he had went to in order to be your husband. It was hard to hide all those bodies back in your school days. He was just lucky the police never traced the missing kids back to him.

Gods, Robert wouldn’t know what to do if you hadn’t chosen him. If you hadn’t chosen him to be your perfect provider and future father of your children. He was sure he would have been in a psych ward. Yet you chose him, like the kind person you were… so perfect and obedient to him. He loved you so much!

“I love you, darling.” Robert smiled as he held you close. His fingers traced shapes down your back as he sighed happily.

He would always keep you close under lock and key.

[capsensislagamoprh]

"You know," she said as I turned the corner, "you're dangerously close to something."

"Is it your liver?" I asked, pressing my knife in deeper.

"Not quite. Good thing too. The god of medicine is a buddy, and pal, he do get mad when I show up with random holes I didn't previously have."

I admit, I was taken aback. "Say what now?"

"Oh yeah. Lives over on 3rd and Pine."

"There's a god. Living on 3rd -"

"And Pine, yeah. So anyway," she smiled, dusting off her robes. "I work for the messenger god - fabulous health care, pension, I mean how could I not? He says to watch it. You're dangerously close."

"To what?"

"Becoming one."

"I'm going to need clarity." Perhaps demanding was a strong word, but it was heavily implied I should put away my knife as she pushed her rather pointed boot into my groin in the most unpleasant manner.

"That should help."

By the time I recovered enough for the letter she'd dumped on me to stop swimming through my vision, she and her burgundy trench coat were gone.

Three hours latter there was a knock at my door. The sun set and so did my senses. She was back with pizza and a twelve pack. By the time I'd decided I was to intrigued not to let her in, my small apartment was full of people literally crawling in through the fire escape. Except that one guy who walked in through the closet door like it was Tuesday. There were more than a dozen of them taking over my living space, raiding my fridge. One guy pulled out things I *knew* weren't in my fridge. All I could think was 'what is happening'?

"So, you're the new kid," a particularly buff old gentleman with the sort of beard one can only describe as a cloud said as he sipped from an IPA, bright eyes taking me in. "Interesting."

I was so off put all I could say was, "What?"

"Don't mind him. He's new," said the messenger's assistant, divesting her burgundy coat. "So new he doesn't know what he's done yet."

The room stopped. Glances were exchanged. "At all?" asked one particularly colorful being, his heart shaped shades some how clashing violently with his Hawaiian shirt and cacky shorts while completing the image at the same time. She set down the six pack and grinned.

By the next morning I knew what I did. I knew what I'd done. And I knew what I was in for.

Old gods exist, sure. Saw a few myself last night. (Don't ask the guy in the loud shirt to take off his glasses. Just an F.Y.I.) But so do new ones. They exist for a thousand little things. And they have a portfolio or radius. Mine? I'm the 'generous god'. The giver. Some praise me by words. 'What a lucky day!' Some sigh in relief or look confused and pleased. But what matters is that they have started talking. And I have become.

Right now I am an urban legend. If I keep doing what I am, I will become part of the fabric of this place. And from there I can gain power, followers, more. If that's something I desire.

It comes with perks. Immortality based on gathered belief and those who warship - even if warship isn't in a structured temple thing - and the ever present stuck-at-the-age-I-am-now-forever bit. The down side? Power comes and goes. You do tend to out live everyone else. It leads to a tight net community of small gods. And they will randomly show up on your couch to crash for a few days.

But the thing they thought was great was that I came with my own built in set of moral codes. Most people have a hard time not letting power like this go to their heads. That's why they seem immortal in life but die tragic or forgotten. I'm not Robbin Hood. I'm not a saint. I'm a new god. A small player on a cosmic stage.

I think I'll grab a couple of friends and film them handing out flowers to people to make their day. You have to start your following somewhere. Might as well do with with a smile. We'll get coffee on the way.

You’re a rogue with enough gold to last ten lifetimes. But old habits die hard—you sneak through crowds, slipping coins into people’s pockets. The kingdom is buzzing about the mysterious, generous "thief."

[rooniearts]

Pitayaverse Asks............ TWO!

I once again have a good handful of asks regarding Pitayaverse, so here goes another post! :'D This time around there's about 29 asks I'll be answering! Enjoy <3

Silver's fine! His fur is just darkening with age :] Think of it like how a Siamese cat's fur works - he starts out looking almost fully white, but his limbs and face slowly darkens over time.

REAL,,, petition to let Tails hit his brother with hammers

@dahliacloud

Oh yes, he resents him deeply. He had no part in any of this, but still slowly but surely ended up with all of Sonic's responsibilities. But by far the worst part for him is seeing how much it all affects this tiny little baby girl. THAT is what truly infuriates him.

It's come to my attention that this ask is probably about his Archie backstory, which I unfortunately don't know much about and so isn't canon to the AU ;v; I'm going with the vague idea that they don't have parents for whatever reason and had to grow up alone together

But in that case, I still like to think it has a part to play, yeah. Tails knows how hard it is to grow up without a parent, and he knows Sonic does too, so he can't comprehend why he isn't trying harder to give this kid that love and stability.

@lowkeuu

LMAOOO idek how that would work with a fox! Maybe his fur thins? Idk :'D but he absolutely does start growing grey hairs pretty young

Oh, yeah. Having the Kind Patient Sweet one of the group snap and pop the fuck off on someone is scary every time it happens. All of them, Shadow included, would definitely be taken aback at the very least.

If I do end up giving them a kid, then this is absolutely the way I'd go with it. I can't let my boy go through even more turmoil in this AU, he's had more than enough :')

AWW LOL, see I like this take on it. That's very cute and I think he would just actually volunteer to take them in at that point too :D

[Referring to this post]

She does, but calling them that is a habit she picked up from Tails. Sonic and Knuckles just only referred to themselves and eachother as "dad," so when she'd talk to Tails about them he'd ask her to specify whether she meant "Sonic-dad" or "Knuckles-dad." Eventually she just started using those terms every time she spoke to or about them!

As Pitaya grows up, Knuckles graduates from "Knuckles-dad" to just "dad", but she eventually just starts calling Sonic by his name. Sonic doesn't really mind this, except for the few times that Knuckles gets to hold it over his head

HEHEHE loving all this Pitaya hype from y'all!! Thank you and yes, she deserves the world <3

YESSS! It's so important to me that she grows up to be happy. Maybe not well adjusted, but she's got endless determination and is not afraid to speak her mind!

[Referring to this post]

I mean, it's part of why. His actions didn't exactly do much to alleviate her doubts, either.

@your-local-cattus-enjoyer

The master post is right here! There may be a few stray asks that aren't listed, but they should still be under the tag

The basic gist of it is that he was just really neglectful. He was barely there, and when he was, it was often only a matter of time before he and Knuckles started fighting. As an adult, she's also really upset that he let Tails take over all the heavy lifting for him when he was still just a kid too.

Once in a while! Usually whenever both Knuckles and Tails are preoccupied for whatever reason. All their stories of clever sleuthing and high-stakes tussles is what made her want to be a detective one day :]

And yes, actually, she did! Her and Echo, and occasionally Psi and Alloy, end up forming their own New Chaotix Detectives group! They just aren't nearly as active as Vector, Espio and Charmy were :')

LOL, for sure! She loooves her cool uncles Vector, Espio and Charmy. She knows they've always got her back <3

Mighty USED to be in the cool uncle camp, but absolutely not anymore. That went out the window the second he got with Sonic. She does love Knuckles, but she's had her ups and downs with him. Ray she just doesn't really know at all, he just goes in the resentment bin by association :'D

That's so true actually,,,, my obvious Chaotix bias is showing :'D

But hmm, that's a good question. If they were to end up together, I think they probably wouldn't have kids, no. I like to imagine they'd be the type of couple who live seperately and just visit eachother frequently, and not like married with kids.

@inkmaams

Their go-to babysitter list is very short because Silver gets very very paranoid over them :'D It consists of Blaze&Amy and Vector ONLY. And it took Espio AGES to convince Silver to let Vector take care of them in the first place

[Referring to this post]

Yup :') He was probably not gonna tell them about any of that, but alas he and Espio spawned Little Mr. Thought Police so now he has no choice but to explain himself </3

@i-only-created-this-to-read

Maybe not robots, but in theory, I guess he probably could read aliens' minds. I was mostly referring to humans/mobians, but there's no reason he couldn't try on other sentient organic beings. However, I feel like they may end up being incomprehensible noise to him because of how differently an alien's brain would work to his own

As for when he's in meltdown mode and can hear everyone all at once, no, he can't hear everyone in the universe, just those that are within a certain radius. Think of it as like whatever a normal hearing range would be, just not obstructed by walls.

Yes! Espio and Silver are married and besides one or two blow-ups, they happily stay that way. And Sonic and Mighty are at the very least life partners, whether they get married or not (I haven't yet decided lol)

Besides them, Blaze and Amy are also married! And Knuckles and Rouge too eventually :]

LMAO, Sonic WISHES. But nay, Mighty had to go and be a spoilsport and put a rule against backwards names. Rude of him tbh.

bro just can't stop spawning babies, what can I say🥀

@scribble0rat

LOL yeah the poor guy only had a vague idea of what he was signing up for. He had met Pitaya once in a while when she was young, and he knew Sonic had struggled with being there for her and that something happened between him and his friend group, but he didn't realize just how angry not only Pitaya was, but also Tails. He's using all those years of anger management to their fullest to tank this situation, I fear :'D

AND YESSS my boy needs more love <3 Us Mighty girlies have to stick together💪

AWWW that's actually such a cute thought experiment!!!!

It's hard to say, but I think they'd be relatively close. Maybe not joined at the hip, but they'd appreciate one another. They're both very similar in personality, it's just mostly that Echo is an introvert and Silver is a HUGE extrovert. The only conflict I can think of is that Echo is very much a copycat, and I think Silver might get annoyed with that pretty quick.

@marinette-sky

No, Shadow is Echo's only parent via cloning shenanigans. Sonic has nothing to do with her, thank goodness :'D

And thank you!! Much appreciated!!! <3

[mrsfudd]

give me tough love

warning: smut, toxic relationship, cursing, degrading, praise, spanking, choking, etc etc

sorry for typos lmao this is kinda ass lowk

After the Dallas wings lost against the Aces, anger was emulating off of Paige. She honestly played really well but for some reason was still pissed. It was only a preseason game but Paige took it to heart. You knew she was under a lot of pressure, she just moved to a new city, is on a new team and is trying to find her groove. It couldn’t be easy but if you being honest you seemed to provoke her more then bring her to peace. Tonight was a perfect example of that.

After the crowd died down, you got a perfect view of Paige. She looked like someone has genuinely wronged her. As your walking down to the court, Paiges eye meets yours. Her eyes seemed to go dark. She looked terrifying.

“You did great baby” You say reaching up to hug her. She doesn’t hug you back, just looks you up and down. Starting at your shoes, then your maybe a little too short skirt, up to your pretty sitting tits in a tank top then your face. “You okay?”

“Fine” She said clearly lying.

At first you didn’t want to add on but her attitude was just screaming to be reciprocated.

“Doesn’t seem like your fine” You say.

“Yea well maybe I would of been able to focus better if you weren’t dressed like a desperate slut.” Paige hissed.

“Alright bro, i’ll meet you in the car” You say laughing and walking away.

Paige didn’t say anything else, she didn’t have to. As you’re walking off the court you feel her eyes drilling a hole in the back of your head.

The car ride was damn near silent. It kinda scared you.

Once you and Paige get up to the hotel room, she wasted no time putting you in your place.

“Come here” Paige said still standing by the door.

“What Paige?” You say will your heels in hand.

“All fucking night when I looked up expecting to see my girlfriend you know what I saw” Paige said through her teeth.

“Hm?” You say not wanting to feed into her bs.

“Some fucking guy staring at your tits and ass all night” Paige said starting to raise her voice.

Oh shit you thought to yourself, you didn’t realize your outfit caused any unwanted attention. Paige is already always on you for the way you dress, tonight you proved her point even more.

“Paige I dont care about him, there no need to be jealous” You snicker.

“Take it off” Paige growled.

“Take what off” You say trying to get her closer to the edge.

“Everything” Paige snapped.

Lowkey scared for what was about to come, you listen. You start at your top, slowly pulling it over your head, not trying to mess up your hair. Then you shimmy your skirt down and they accidentally pull your panties down halfway, you continue to pull them down and step out of them. Once you get to your bra the look on Paiges face changes. All the compassion left her.

You take off your bra and toss it on the floor next to you. The cold air hits you and you start to get goosebumps. Paiges large warm hands start to roam your body, not enough to give you any pleasure but definitely enough to tell you that she was about to wreck you.

Without warning, Paige picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bed. She threw you down and started to take off her sweaty clothes. As shes pulling off her jersey, her eyes never leave yours, expression never changed.

Once she was down to her spot bra and shorts, she sits down on the bed.

“Come over here” She demanded.

You crawl over to her.

“Lay across my lap” She ordered.

You do as your told, laying on your stomach, ass in the air.

“You wanna act like a slut right” Paige asked.

“No I-” You say before your cut off with a harsh slap.

You wince at the pain and Paiges hand rubs the burning spot.

“Ima ask you again baby, you wanna act like a fucking slut right” Paige cursed.

“N-No Im no-” You barely let out as another slap gets planted. These weren’t kiddy little spanks, she was genuinely trying to hurt you.

“Baby, baby dont lie to me. Say it, say your a desperate whore” Paige said rubbing the spot where she hit you.

You don’t say anything.

Paige started to hit you one after one. Some lighter than others. Tears roll down your face as her big hands cover the surface of your ass. Paige noticed you started squirming and said “Say it and i’ll stop, come on I know you know how to be good”.

You swallow your ego and say “ Im a desperate slut” behind your tears but that wasn’t good enough for Paige. “Cant hear you baby” She chuckled.

“I-Im a slut, your slut” You say louder.

Paige smiled at your obedience. “Good girl baby, good job.” She said slipping two of her long fingers in your soaked hole.

Your breath hitched as you feel her immediately find your spot. Her paced started fast and never slowed down. You reach back trying to hold on to her for support but she slaps your arm away.

“Nah nah take this shit, this is want you wanted right?” She teases speeding up. Her other hand finds your ass and starts to spank you again, lighter but it still burns.

The mixed feeling of pleasure and pain is enough to bring you closer and closer to orgasm. Paige takes notice of how you start to grip against her fingers and pulls them out. You whine at the lost of contact and almost fall off the bed as Paige pushes you off her lap, standing up.

You sit up and pull your knees to your chest as Paige digs in her suitcase. She doesn’t turn back around to face you. Your eyes widen as you hear two filmier clicks.

“Lay down” Paige said walking towards the edge of the bed, you listen.

Paige grabs both of your ankles and pulls you closer to her, she rests your legs ontop of her shoulders. She doesn’t warm you up or try to tease you or anything. She slams her 7 inches into your aching pussy. Your back immediately arches off the bed. Paiges grip on your legs tightens as she starts to thrust into you.

Shes hitting every spot and she knows it. Paige is so deep in your stomach she grabs your hand and makes you feel where it is. Paiges aggressive pace never lets up not once as her one of her hands squeezes your chest.

Your letting out more screams then moans and more pleads for her to slow down then keep going. Paige doesn’t try shush you not once, she wants to her how she gets you knowing no one else could. She knew very well that she was stretching you out and was proud of it. It needed to be known that you were hers and this was her pussy.

Paiges hand lets go of your boob and makes its way up to your throat. Her large wraps around your neck and her head comes down, marking your chest.

Once shes done bruising you, she brings her head up and starts putting all her weight on your throat. Yours legs weaken and fall on her hips as she continues to fuck you. You had no clue where she has all this energy from but she had it and it was all for you.

As Paiges grip on your neck tightens, you grab her wrist trying to pry her off you. Paige knew you were getting closer to orgasm so she didn’t let up.

“Cum for me dirty girl” Paige said.

You repeatedly said her name which made her smile as your trying to push her off you but it made no difference as your orgasm came crashing down on you. It was everywhere. Paige finally pulled put, leaving you limp on the bed.

Paige goes into the bathroom and gets a damp rag with hot water on it. She starts to clean you and says “ I know you did that shit on purpose”.

“ and what if I did” You giggle.

“Never again baby” She smirks.

“Yea yea, we’ll see”. You joke.

Paige leans down and gives you much needed kiss. “ Love you….slut” She laughs.

“Oh shut up”.

[justauthoring]

Undercover Discoveries.

Summary: Zoro knew he should've stopped this mission from the beginning.

Pairing: Zoro Roronoa x F!Reader

A/N: This one shot just kept escalating as I was writing it lol and it turned into this. But HEYYY protective Zorooooo!

Word Count: 5,006

TW. Canon violence, HEAVILY implied sexual slavery, violence and attempted rape towards reader ALSO not spell checked :)))

"I actually can't believe I'm doing this."

Although your comment is more made to yourself than anything, it grabs Zoro's attention nonetheless. Leaning against railing of the Thousand Sunny across from you, arms crossed over his chest, Zoro slowly glances up at you.

There's a deep frown on his face despite his nonchalant stance.

"You seemed fine with it when we planned it out earlier."

Looking up from your hands, you glance back at Zoro, frowning. "That's because the rest of the crew was here," you sigh, pressing your hand to your forehead. "How was I supposed to say no when they were looking at me like that? Especially Luffy."

Pushing himself to a stand, Zoro's hands fall on his swords, shrugging. "They would've understood."

You just shake your head, knowing there was no way someone like Zoro would understand.

Swallowing thickly, you force down the nerves rattling your entire body and focus on the plan at hand. "Let's go over it one more time, okay? Just to make sure." Zoro nods to your words, so you step towards him. "This captain... Kaizoku. He's known for taking young women and forcing them to work for him."

Zoro's face twists as your own lips further into a frown.

"I'm the only one on the crew without a bounty which means I'm the only one Kaizoku won't recognize. Especially because he seems to be a fan of Luffy."

"That's what Nami said," Zoro nods. "Apparently wouldn't stop raving about us."

"But one of the girls asked for our help?"

"Yeah," Zoro huffs. "Came running at Sanji, crying and asking for help only to be dragged away by one of Kaizoku's men."

"Tell me again why we can't just go running in and take this asshole down?"

Zoro shakes his head. "Nami says it'll put the girls in danger. Though, that would be my prefered method."

You just snort. "Mine too," you agree, and you really do mean it. But-- "But Nami's right. We can't put those girls in danger. So that's why you're going to give Kaizoku me as some sort of offering... Pretend we want to make peace with him, gain his trust and then... take him down. All while I secure an escape for the girls."

Hands still on his swords, Zoro nods once again, face still straight as it always is. You don't notice it, too lost in your own racing thoughts, but there's something different in Zoro's eyes as he stares at you lost in your head.

The truth was, there was no part of you that wanted to do this undercover mission. Even if your heart yearned in concern for those girls, you were terrified to be putting yourself in their exact positions. But, Nami had been right; you were the only one this Kaizoku wouldn't recognize and none of you could just leave those girls to suffer.

Besides, you had to do this. To prove yourself. Ever since you'd joined the Strawhat Crew, it had felt like you weren't doing your part. Everyone had a part to play, while it felt like you... were just there.

It embarrassed you to be the only one not strong enough to be recognized for a bounty, but if that meant you were the only one willing to do this, then... well, you were just going to have to do it.

"Okay," you say, inhaling sharply as you turn to Zoro with determined eyes. "Let's do this."

Zoro blinks at you, noticing the way that although you're clearly trying to be brave, the fear in your eyes is obvious. He wants to tell you that you don't have to do this--that they'll figure some other way to take down Kaizoku and his men.

But he knew you would just argue him on it. And if Zoro was being honest, he didn't quite understand why you looking so afraid bothered him so much anyways.

So, he settles for something else;

"Y/N."

His call of your name shocks you, your eyes refocusing on his own as he steps towards you.

"Do you trust me?"

It's such a simple question, and still, it surprises you. You blink up at Zoro, not having expected him to ask such a earnest and honest question. The way he's looking at you... it's as if he's genuinely concerned about you. And it's not like you think Zoro doesn't care about you, but for as long as you've been on the crew, he's always been more quiet and reserved.

It warms your heart, his concern.

And the answer is easy.

"Yes."

With that, you hold your hands out towards him, and nod.

-

Doesn't mean Kaizoku is any less terrifying.

With your hands tied behind your back, your clothes scuffed and ripped, there's a certain vulnerability as the man eyes you up and down like you're nothing more than a piece of meat.

There's a lecherous grin on his face as he laughs, head tilted back, his laugh followed by his men's laugh that surround him. There's a woman forced to his lap, dressed in nothing more than a tiny dress. Her face has a large bruise on the left cheek, her hair matted and she's looking back at you with terror in her eyes.

You swallow thickly, body frozen in fear.

Zoro, on the other hand, is finding it increasinly more difficult to keep the look of utter disgust off his face. He hadn't been there when Luffy, Usopp, Nami and Sanji had run into Kaizoku the first time. In fact, he'd been back on the ship with you.

If he had, he definitely wouldn't have agreed to this plan.

Still, it's too late now. Zoro didn't have any doubt he could strike this asshole down in two seconds, but with the amount of men surrounding them, there was no way he could guarantee any of the women's or, more importantly, your safety.

His hand tightens on the grip he holds of the rope connected to your wrists, jaw tense.

"The Straw Hat found for her for me?" Kaizoku laughs, leaning forward to eye you closer as he licks his lips. "I didn't realize the kid had such a good eye."

Your stomach twists, unconsciously shifting in your binds as Zoro glances at you from the corner of his eye.

Refocusing on Kaizoku, Zoro grunts with a shrug; "just something to show our appreciation for your warm welcome to our arrival."

Kaizoku grins wider; "well, you can tell your captain his gift is most appreciated." Holding his hands out to his men, the women on his lap cowering at his sudden movement, his men grin back at him, each as disgusting as himself. "I say this calls for celebration! Bring you and the rest of your crew to my ship tonight."

Zoro nods; "I'll be sure to pass along the message."

"Now," Kaizoku starts, taking the woman on his lap by the waist and pushing her to her feet. She stumbles, but one of his men nearby grab her, yanking her along. "Let me see my gift upclose."

His hands reach out for you and you mentally prepare yourself, waiting for Zoro to move.

He never does.

Trying to school your surprise, you glance back at Zoro, only to see him staring back at Kaizoku, face unreadable.

Kaizoku's face twitches; "is there a problem?"

It's clear his patience is thinning, not sure what to make of Zoro's silence, and you can see Kaizoku growing more and more suspicious. Not wanting the plan to fall through before you've even had the chance to help anyone, you subtly move your hands back, touching Zoro's own hand.

It's all you can do, knowing that speaking or looking at him would give way to further suspicious. But, it's enough, because Zoro moves a second later.

"Of course not," Zoro grunts, stepping forward and pulling you with him. He doesn't offer any other explanation and Kaizoku doesn't seem to care the second he gets his hands on you.

You're pulled towards him, stumbling over your own feet at the sudden movement, practically falling into his lap. Instantly, your face scrunches up in disgust, as Kaizoku reaches for your chin, moving you so he can see your face better.

He smells disgusting and looks even more so upclose, licking his lips as he takes you in.

"You certainly are beautiful aren't you, sweetie?" He laughs, "I can't wait to get to know you better."

Swallowing thickly, you try to ignore the race of your heart.

Kaizoku seems to notice Zoro then. The same Zoro who hasn't moved from behind you.

"That'll be all, Roronoa Zoro." Kaizoku cuts in, pulling away from you to wave Zoro off. "I'll see you and your captain tonight."

You take the chance to glance back at Zoro, figuring at this point it wouldn't matter, and his eyes meet yours instantly. You can tell he doesn't want to leave and you don't want him to leave, but this was all part of the plan.

So, with a small and subtle nod from you, Zoro only hesitates a moment longer before leaving.

You watch him leave, his back turned you and slowly growing further and further away. You ignore the sinking of your heart.

"Sorry to say, sweetheart," Kaizoku speaks up, his hands falling on your waist as he tugs you into his lap. You can catch yourself because of your restrained hands, and are forced to fall into his embrace. "But you're mine now."

-

Shortly after Zoro's departure, you're taken by Kaizoku's men into a room. There, they untie your hands and force you into a dress chosen by Kaizoku. Thankfully, they turn around, one of them grumbling something about you being for Kaizoku's eyes only.

When you're dressed, you're lead lower into the large ship, all the way to the bottom. Immediately, you realize you're being led into a cell where all the women are kept.

Every women, as equally scantily dressed and beat up as the last, cowers to the back of the cell at Kaizoku's mens arrival. The men leer and laugh at them, while the one holding you unlocks the cell and all but throws you in.

You fall to your knees with a cry, at the last second managing to brace yourself on your hands, before slowly turning only to see the cell door slammed shut in your face.

The men walk off with grins and cheers, as reality settles in for you.

Silence settles in the cell as the women all glance down at you. You stare back at them, until finally one steps towards you.

"Here," she calls, and you can tell she's the oldest of the handful of the women there. She grabs you by the arms, grip much more gentle then the men before, and leads you to your feet. "They always throw us back in here. You might as well get used to it."

Meeting her eyes, you frown; "how long have you been here?"

She seems mildly surprised by your rather blunt question, but the surprise fades as a bitter smile curls onto her lips. "A few years," she shrugs. "I was caught by Kaizoku when I left my husband." Stepping back, she gestures towards the women. "She was a tourist from another island who got caught. Her boyfriend sold her to Kaizoku to save himself. She got taken one night walking home. And she was sold by her own father..."

You eye each woman she points at, disbelief coursing through your veins.

How had Kaizoku gotten away with this for so long?

Once she gets to the last woman, she turns back to you. "How'd you get caught?"

You blink, lips parting, as you remember the whole reason you're here.

"I wasn't." And at the looks on hers and everybodies face, you rush to explain. "I'm undercover. I'm part of the Straw Hat crew. I'm here to help you all escape."

There's a beat of silence before the woman who'd helped you, laughs; "there is no escape from here, girl."

"There is now," you push. "Luffy. Straw Hat Luffy. He has a large bounty. He's a pirate and he's going to be the King of Pirates. And he's my captain."

Her face blanches; "then he's no different than you."

You shake your head. "No. No. Luffy is different. All of them are." Remembering Sanji's story, your eyes widen. "There was a girl who asked my friend for help." Your eyes dance across the women, "he was blonde. Has a curly eyebrow... probably smoking. She asked for our help and we're here."

The woman who'd help you reaches for you. "Emi?" She calls, frowning. "Emi was killed for disobeying."

Body growing cold, your wide eyes stare back at her.

"And you're stuck here just like us."

"No," you breathe, voice echoing. "No, listen to me. There must be some sort of escape route here. You have to--"

Eyes blazing, the woman huffs; "there isn't."

-

You sit in the cell, silent, for a while.

You're not sure how long it is, feeling the stares of the other woman as they stare at you. For the first bit you'd walked around the small cell desperately looking forward some sort of escape; a crack in the wall, something like that. Only to come empty handed.

Luffy and the rest of the crew were coming tonight to uphold their end of the deal and if you didn't do you're part, it'd all be for nothing.

Head falling into your lap, you huff. No wonder you didn't have a bounty... You couldn't even do your end of the mission. Your entire crew would do their part tonight without hesitation and they'd come out victorious as they always did.

But they'd have to make up for your own short comings.

You're pulled from your thoughts at a sudden cry. It makes you jump, back straightening as you turn towards the women, only to see them cowering towards the back of the cell like they had when you'd been brought in. Aina, the woman who'd helped you at first, was standing at the front, protecting them.

But if they were afraid, that could only mean one thing.

Eyes turning towards the front of the cell, you tense when you see Kaizoku and two of his men trailing behind.

His eyes lazily drag over the woman, smirking, before he settles on you. He nods back at his men, not saying anything, and then the men step forward, unlocking the cell and heading straight for you. You don't even get the chance to fully stand to your feet before their hands are on you, pulling you along as you stumble to right yourself.

Aina calls out for you in response; "please, she... she's new!"

You're surprised she tries to help her after what had happened earlier. When you glance back at her, her face is twisted in concern and desperation.

Kaizoku only laughs at her, "all the more reason to try her out!"

With that you're dragged out of the cell, the two men holding you ignoring your cries and struggle as they drag you through the ship. They don't stop until the reach a room, and the second it's open you know immediately it's the captains quarters.

Your heart plummets.

They throw you on the bed settled in the middle of the room, but you barely are given the chance to sit up before your leg is grabbed. Slimy hands wrap around your ankle before something cold is clasped around it.

Sitting up, your eyes widen at the chain now clasped to your leg.

The other end of it is secured to the floor.

The two men shuffle back, and the one who'd restrained you grins at you. "Good luck," he says, voice mocking. "Maybe when the Captain's done with you, he'll let us have a turn."

They leave without another word, ignoring you as you call out for them and slam the door shut behind them.

Inhaling sharply, you try to calm your racing mind. This could be a good thing, you tell yourself. Kaizoku must have keys on him to the cell. If you could keep him entertained long enough, you could grab the keys and then, when Luffy and the rest came tonight, you'd be able to help the women escape.

How you were going to do that, you didn't know.

It's about five minutes later when Kaizoku comes walking in. You hear muffled talking before he steps in, and the second he does, you shuffle as far back on the bed as you can.

He doesn't say anything to you. There's that reoccuring smirk on his face as he shuts the door behind him, and moves to take off his belt keeping his jacket on. You watch as he drapes it across the chair beside his desk, and immediately zone in on the set of keys dangling from it.

That was your chance.

"You truly are beautiful."

You turn back to Kaizoku, refocusing on the way he's now stood in front of you. He's leering at you the same way he had when Zoro had 'delivered' you to him, but this time, you're completely alone.

"But I've yet to hear your voice," Kaizoku frowns. "Let me hear you call me 'Master'."

Disgust swells in your chest, and your face twists in a glare.

Kaizoku just laughs, reaching forward to grab your chained ankle, tugging you towards him. You gasp, hand moving to swing at him, but he catches your wrist with his other hand. Before you even have the chance to swing your other hand, Kaizoku's hand leaves your ankle to press your wrist into the bed.

"You're helpless against me," Kaizoku says. "It's better you submit now before I'm forced to get rough."

Eyes narrowing, you glare up at him.

"You saw my other girls, right?" He grins, "saw the bruises on their pretty delicate skin? That can happen to you just as easily, sweetheart. Or, we can keep your perfect skin just that... perfect." His eyes dance across your heavily exposed skin thanks to his stupid dress, practically drooling.

Heart racing, your face twists; "you're disgusting."

You expect him to get mad, but instead, Kaizoku just grins.

"That's okay," he shrugs, "I like hurting woman too. And bruises are just a sign of my ownership."

The glare on your face fades as your panic settles in. You start to struggle in his grasp, but you're not particularly strong in general. You didn't have a devil fruit like Luffy and Robin or fighting skills like Sanji and Zoro. And you didn't have your weapon to help you fight.

His fingers press into the skin of your wrists, tight and pinching and it pulls a cry from your lips.

"Ah," Kaizoku moans, pressing his lips to your neck as you squirm underneath. "I enjoy hearing you cry out in pain even more. Maybe it's a good thing you don't want to be obedient, otherwise I wouldn't have had the pleasure of hearing you cry."

Struggling wildly beneath him, you huff, trying to buck him off of you. It doesn't work and you're forced to accept the way he trails kisses and licks along the length of your exposed neck, nails digging welts into your arms.

His legs slide between your own when you start to kick you feet, pinning them flat as you yelp in response.

"Get off!" You scream, voice pitching in wild panic. "No! Stop!"

There's a sharp pain that radiates across your cheek in the next second. It takes you a moment to realize Kaizoku has punched you across the face, jaw aching and vision spinning as Kaizoku continues to grin and laugh down at you.

It's then you realize just how truly insane this man is.

You were correct to be afraid and you should've never accepted this mission just to prove yourself to your crew.

He shifts your wrist to one hand, stretching it above your head as you twist uncomfortable. With his free hand, he pulls a knife out from behind him. Your eyes instantly widen on the weapon, as the man licks his lips down at you.

Shifting the knife so the tips point towards you, he starts at your right shoulder, pressing so it cuts into your skin. A cry instantly leaves your lips, face twisting in pain as he drags it across your chin, moving towards the strap of your dress.

"Please!" You cry, voicing pitching at the end in distress and agony. "Please, don't!"

"That's it!" Kaizoku laughs maniacally. "Cry for help!"

He continues to drag the knife, the pain turning numb as you twist wildly in his grasp. His goal shifts to your other strap, intending to cut that off too, before a loud explosion echoes.

Kaizoku instantly stops, knife hovering above you as he glances up at the ceiling.

"What the--"

But his words are cut off by another explosion, this one louder.

He glances down at you, face twisted in annoyance, before he lets go of your wrists, standing. Heart racing, you watch him, the sting in your chest radiating, as he moves towards the door.

"Idiots," he grumbles to himself, not bothering you another glance before he slams the door behind him, the noise making you jump.

You lay there for a moment longer, not moving, heart pounding erratically against your chest. Then, another explosion echoes and your hands come to your chest, shaking.

Distantly, you hear a familiar yell. One that sounds oddly like Luffy.

Your... Your crew was here.

Sitting up, your eyes fall to his desk, seeing his belt. He hadn't grabbed it in his haste. This was your chance.

You ignore the ache of your body, thankful for the length of the chain that allows you to just barely grab his belt. It takes you a minute, but eventually you find the right key to your chain, unlocking your ankle and not hesitating a second more to making your way towards the cell.

You had to get there before the men did.

It takes you only a few minutes to reach the cell. Instantly Aina races towards you, confused as to why you're alone. You ignore her questions and concern, unlocking the cell.

"We have to go," you say to them, breathless. "Now."

They only hesitate a second, before the group of them follow you. Aina assures you all of them were there, that you were the only girl Kaizoku took out the day, and so you lead them up the back entrance, hoping to avoid the rest of the crew.

It doesn't work.

Turning down a corner, you halt to a stop at the sight of three of Kozaku's men. They notice you immediately, turning to race after you. A few girls behind you cry in panic, but you just brace your hands in front of them, eyes flickering across the hall for something.

There's a sword just in front of you, and grabbing it quickly, you hold in front of you.

"What are we going to do?" Aina cries behind you.

"It's okay," you assure, "I'll protect you."

"Protect us?" Aina yells, "you're injured!"

Glancing back at her, you smile; "it's okay. I'm a Straw Hat afterall."

With that, you rush forward, moving in the way Zoro had helped you practice a few times. It's rusty, and honestly, Zoro would probably be ashamed. But it was the best you could do considering everything.

You actually manage to take one of the men down, but the other two gain on you, knocking you off your feet. You cry out in response, bracing your hands in front of yourself and mind racing to think of how you'll help those girls.

But before the man can do anything, a loud thud echoes.

Your eyes flicker open, confused, only to see a familiar flash of green. It zips past you, taking down the other man, before Zoro is suddenly on his knees in front of you.

Breathless, you stare back at him, watching the way his eyes take in the welting bruise on your face, the deep cut across your chest and you're torn dress.

Rage burns in his eyes as his lips part.

"Oh my god, Y/N!"

Whatever Zoro had been about to say is cut off as Nami comes running towards you, face falling in horror as she takes you in. She pulls you out of your stupor, letting her take your hands as she asks if you're okay.

You just shake your head. "I'm fine, I'm fine," you breathe, "but--but, Nami! The women!" You gesture behind yourself, towards the group of women all hugging each other, watching the three of you with wide fearful eyes.

Zoro doesn't even bat an eye at them.

Nami, still obviously concerned for you but recognizing the importance, nods. She takes one look at Zoro, before stands; "I'll get them out of here. Sanji's just up ahead. He'll help!"

You nod, watching as Nami moves towards the women. They flinch at first, but once she explains herself, they slowly nod, moving to follow after her. You watch them go, relief flooding you.

Aina's the last to run by, and her eyes meet yours.

"Thank you," she whispers, reaching forward your hand. "Thank you so much."

You nod, squeezing her hand and then she's running off to follow Nami.

In the far distance, you can hear Sanji, true to his typical self, rush to help them. But you can't focus on that. The second they leave, Zoro's hand is rising to lightly brush his fingers across your cheek. You wince, finally registering how much pain you're in.

His face twists.

"I never should've let you do this."

Swallowing thickly, you shake your head. "It's okay," you whisper. "I... I wanted to do it."

"Y/N," Zoro calls, turning to you in disbelief. "How can you say it's okay? Look at you!"

You just smile at him, "I was able to help. That's all that matters."

Realization dawns on Zoro then, and his face falls.

"That's why you did this?"

"Huh?"

"Because you thought you had something to prove?"

Puzzled, you brows furrow; "Zoro, I--"

"You have nothing to prove. Ever." He cuts in, voice leaving no room for argument as he meets your eyes. "To anyone. Least of all me."

"Zoro..."

"I mean... look at what he did to you."

Shoulders falling, the fog of your desperation fades. You think back to before, in that room, overpowered and defenceless against that man as he laughed at you, hurt you, and wanted to... do so much worse to you.

Zoro was right. Nothing, not even proving yourself, was worth suffering through that.

Your breathe quivers as the tears you've been holding back finally escape, welling in your eyes as you stare back at Zoro. "I was so scared," you admit, hands trembling as you reach for him. "He... He almost..."

Taking you into his arms, Zoro pulls you into his embrace, grip firm but not painful. It's comforting, reassuring and most of all, makes you feel safe.

"I promise you, Y/N," Zoro whispers, "I'll never let that happen again."

You nod into his chest, leaning into his embrace as you let yourself go.

Zoro holds you the entire time, never once letting you go as he takes you back to the ship.

-

Later that night, in the midst of the crews celebrations of having taken down Kaizoku, you're off on your own.

The crew had expressed their concerns, with Luffy apologizing for ever making you feel you had to go to such lengths to prove yourself. You're confident Zoro had said something, but you wave off his apology, assuring him it was your own shortcomings too.

And you assure the crew that you want them to celebrate, because it had been a big win, regardless. Not only did they take down a evil crew of men, but they'd saved women.

You just didn't have it in you to celebrate with them.

So, off on your own, you stare out of the vast sea, and think about what almost happened that day.

Zoro finds you an hour into the celebrations.

He's silent as he sits beside you, swords at his hips like always and body tilted back as he stares ahead. You glance at him briefly, before staring back before yourself, hugging your knees to your chest.

"Are you okay?" Zoro asks softly a moment later.

You nod, "I am." And at his silence, you let a small smile curl on your lips. "I promise." You meet his eyes briefly. "I am okay. I'm better than I've felt in a long time."

"Are you in any pain?" Zoro raises a brow, frowning.

"Not really," you assure. "Chopped fixed me up good."

Silence follows for a moment. Then, Zoro's hand is falling into the space between the two of you, palm up. The meaning is clear, and you let your hand settle into his own a moment later.

"I wanted to go after you the second I left."

Turning to Zoro, fully this time, you frown.

He's staring back ahead of himself, as if reflecting, "I should've."

"You were just following the plan," you argue.

"It was a stupid plan."

You laugh lightly at that; "I can agree to that."

Then, finally meeting your eyes, Zoro's expression is serious; "you never do something like that again, you hear me? I don't care what the rest say. You don't need to prove yourself for anything. You are a valuable member of this crew, always."

Lips curling into a soft smile, you squeeze his hand.

"Thank you, Zoro," you whisper, "that means a lot."

He nods; "as long as you believe it."

"I do," you say, without hesitation. "After all, I trust you, right?"

The grin on your face is soft, somewhat teasing, enough that it has Zoro rolling his eyes.

"Of course you do," he grins back.

[clockwayswrites]

Danny in Metropolis, Ch 5 Part 2

masterpost shhhh migraine, hell week, worked like 14 hours yesterday. no editing please <3

Kon leaned against the open door frame between the hall and kitchen. He watched Lois peel an apple with practiced ease; Jon hated apple skin. Kon had no idea where Jon got that from, considering Clark would eat most things and Lois was snacking on the peel as she worked.

“Need anything, honey?” Lois asked without taking her eyes off the apple and the sharp knife in her hand.

The nickname always made Kon feel equally warmed and uncomfortable. Honey—someone Lois cared about. She had cared since about fifteen minutes after she’d met him. The first fifteen she’d spent chewing Clark out.

Kon cleared his throat. “Yeah. I actually wanted to ask you for some advice, if you’ve got a moment.”

“Welcome to my parlor, pull up a chair,” Lois said with a grin. “Want an apple slice?”

“Sure.” Kon took the offered slice and went to lean against an open spot of counter. He took the excuse of eating the snack to try and gather his thoughts. “So, um, what sort of activity is good for a first date with someone you already know?”

Lois almost fumbled both the apple and the knife with how quickly she spun to look at him. “No! Really? Who made the move first, you or Danny?”

Kon crossed his arms. “That obvious?”

“Honey, you forget I fell for a Midwestern dork myself, I know what that looks like,” Lois said as she motioned with the knife. “Besides, you were cuddling with him. You only let your group cuddle with you and even then you shove them off half the time.”

Kon opened is mouth to protest, but couldn’t actually find any words to defend himself with so he just frowned.

“Well?” Lois asked with a teasing smile. “Who made the move?”

“Me,” Kon grumbled. “A little one, but then Danny made me talk about it, and I maybe kissed him.”

“Look at you go! Proud of you, kid,” Lois said.

Which was a surprise.

“…yeah?”

“Yeah. Like I said, it was clear that you were sweet on him. It’s too easy to do nothing about a crush. I’m proud that you did something about it,” Lois said. It sounded true.

“I… thanks,” Kon said. He rubbed at his cheek. “But I don’t know what to do for a date. Dates weren’t exactly something that Lex had downloaded into my brain like math.”

“I wouldn’t trust anything that Lex thought about dates anyways,” Lois said dryly.

Kon thought abut that for a moment. “Yeah, okay, true. But that still doesn’t help.”

“We’re getting there!” Lois said and tossed another piece of apple at him.

He caught it and munched on it as a way to stay quiet.

“A movie date is still a classic,” she said. “But if Danny is feeling better, there’s always bowling or roller skating. There’s this grate place—I did a story on the women there once—that’s a roller derby rink but when there aren’t matches, it’s just a place to skate. They use the funds to help pay for the team, but it’s also set up to be a safe place for queer teens and young adults to hang out at. That might be something fun.”

Kon thought about it. “…that could be fun, yeah. Do you remember the name of it?”

Lois shook her head as she piled all the apple splices onto a plate with some cheese slices. “Not off the top of my head, but I can pull it up at work tomorrow and text you to it, okay?”

“Yeah, that’s great,” Kon said and stole a slice of cheese. “We wouldn’t do anything before Friday anyways, bit chem test coming up.”

“Ugh, chem, please tell me you don’t need any help with that one.”

“Nope, that I did get downloaded into my brain,” Kon said with a grin.

“Well, about time Lex did something useful,” Lois joked as she headed off to find Jon with the snack plate. “Other than making you I mean, honey!”

Kon ducked his head an rubbed at his cheek. Under his breath he mumbled, “…thanks, Mom.”

[sh4nksslvt]

Romance By Impact

A series of unfortunate training accidents, unexpected collisions, and very confused pirates—featuring awkward kisses, deadpan reactions, and maybe a few new feelings.

shanks x reader | zoro x reader | mihawk x reader | ONE SHOT tags: fluff, sfw, accidental kiss, light romance a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ff a bit cringe, akward, and confusing word count: 3k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

SHANKS

The tavern was rowdy in the way only a Red-Haired Pirates pit stop could be—laughter bursting at the seams, ale spilling like waterfalls, and someone’s boot hanging from the ceiling for no discernible reason.

You were seated at your usual corner table, safely tucked away from the wildest parts of the madness but still within arm’s reach of chaos if it happened to wander over. Which it always did. Because, of course, you were with them.

Tonight, chaos arrived in the form of Lucky Roux barrel-rolling across the floor, chasing after a chicken that had apparently stolen his sandwich.

You sipped your drink without blinking.

“Should we stop him?” you asked no one in particular.

“Nah,” came Shanks’s cheerful voice as he flopped down next to you, drink in one hand, and a smirk stretched wide across his sun-warmed face. “Roux’s gotta work through that betrayal himself.”

You tilted your head, watching the chase. “That chicken has excellent footwork.”

Shanks snorted. “It’s always the poultry you least expect.”

He nudged your shoulder with his, and the casual warmth of his presence settled around you like a blanket that smelled faintly of salt, rum, and trouble. You’d been with the crew long enough that this kind of night was practically a lullaby—boisterous, ridiculous, and, in a strange way, comforting.

“Bet you five hundred berries Benn falls asleep with his eyes open again,” you said.

“Double if he does it standing up,” Shanks countered immediately, raising his mug.

You clinked glasses in solemn agreement, like any two upstanding degenerates would.

The crew roared around you—music blaring, a couple of drunk pirates arguing over whether a narwhal could beat a sea king in an underwater arm-wrestling match—and for once, nothing too insane was happening.

Until it did.

It started innocently enough, as these things tend to.

Yasopp challenged Shanks to a drinking game. You were pulled in as the impartial referee, a decision that now, in hindsight, seemed… foolish.

Very foolish.

“I swear on my entire alcohol stash that I won’t cheat,” Shanks said solemnly, hand on his heart.

You raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even know the rules yet.”

“Exactly,” he said, grinning. “So I can’t cheat if I don’t know how.”

“…You are so full of crap.”

“Don’t judge me with those eyes,” he said dramatically. “Your judgment is louder than Benn’s gun.”

The drinking game was a disaster within two minutes. Shanks was supposed to drink only when you called “go,” but he insisted he had “emotional premonitions” of when the right time was, which led to half the table being soaked in rum, and you nearly getting knocked off your seat laughing when Yasopp fake-passed out from "betrayal."

The grand finale happened during a particularly rowdy round, when Shanks, in the middle of turning to dodge a flying peanut (launched by a vengeful Lucky Roux, still chicken-less), whipped his head around—and smacked right into you.

Forehead, nose, lips.

An accidental kiss.

A very smack-worthy, full-on, blink-and-you-miss-it kiss.

There was a beat of silence as your heads bumped slightly, your faces still awkwardly close. He blinked at you. You blinked back.

“…Well,” you said, completely calm, “that’s one way to dodge a peanut.”

Shanks blinked again, then burst out laughing, tipping backward so hard he almost fell off the bench.

“You—” he wheezed between laughs. “You just got accidentally smooched, and your only comment is about a peanut?! DAHAHAHA”

You took another sip of your drink. “You missed the peanut. Poor reflexes.”

“I’m an emperor of the sea!”

“With poor reflexes.”

The table erupted in laughter. Yasopp fell off his chair. Benn, true to the bet, was already dozing with his eyes half-open in the corner.

Later that night, the party simmered down into lazy chuckles and off-key sea shanties. You and Shanks were still at the table, now sharing a plate of spicy skewers someone had abandoned (their mistake).

“So,” he said eventually, nudging you again. “About the kiss.”

You looked up from your skewer squinting at him. “You’re not gonna propose or anything, right?”

He almost choked. “What?!”

“Some people get very dramatic about first kisses,” you said matter-of-factly. “If you were about to declare undying love and offer me a life of sword-swinging romance, I was gonna need at least three more drinks.”

He stared at you for a moment. Then grinned, slow and wide.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

Shanks stretched, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. “I was gonna make a cheesy joke about how that kiss stole my breath away, but now I feel like you’d hit me.”

“I might. Gently.”

“Deserved,” he admitted.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, settled deep into the bones of the night, the kind of silence that says we’re fine, we’re good, we’re idiots, and it’s okay.

Then Shanks leaned his elbow on the table and gave you a smirk that was half mischief, half curiosity.

“But seriously,” he said, “not even a little flustered?”

You thought for a second, then shook your head.

“You’re not my first accidental kiss, Shanks.”

He gawked. “What?”

“There was this thing with some guy once,” you said, picking up another skewer. “He fell asleep mid-training, woke up, swung his sword, tripped, face-planted into mine. Lips. Boom. Instant nap buddy.”

Shanks looked personally betrayed.

“I thought we had something special.”

You shrugged, chewing thoughtfully. “Sorry, I’m a walking magnet for chaos. If anything, this makes us even.”

He was quiet for a beat, then started chuckling again.

“You know,” he said, grinning, “I think I might like that about you.”

“Not the chaos part, right?”

“No, especially that part.”

You rolled your eyes, bumping shoulders with him again. “You’re lucky I’m immune to charm.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to try harder.”

You turned to him, deadpan. “Try aiming better next time. If you're going to kiss me, at least make it count.”

There was a beat of stunned silence.

And then Shanks’s grin turned absolutely feral.

“Oh-ho-ho,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

You got up, stretched lazily, and patted his head like one might a particularly smug golden retriever.

“It’s a ‘you spilled sauce on your shirt’ distraction, actually.”

He looked down.

There was no sauce.

You were already halfway to the door.

“Hey!” he called after you, laughing. “That’s cheating!”

You raised your mug in a mock-toast without turning around. “So are emotional premonitions, Captain!”

ZORO

The sun was brutal. The kind of heat that could fry an egg on the deck of the Thousand Sunny if you weren’t careful—or cook your brain if you were dumb enough to train during it.

Which is why you, naturally, were dumb enough to train during it.

“Your stance is all over the place,” Zoro grunted from where he stood, shirtless and already glistening with sweat. His swords were tucked under one arm like an afterthought.

You adjusted your footing. “You said that five minutes ago.”

“And it’s still true five minutes later. Amazing, right?”

“You’re a terrible teacher,” you muttered, shifting again.

Zoro snorted. “And you’re a terrible student. So we’re even.”

It was a typical afternoon—Zoro had been training solo on the upper deck until you wandered in with a practice sword and what you claimed was a completely reasonable curiosity about swordsmanship. He, of course, took this as a challenge to prove why he was the best swordsman on the ship.

You took it as a challenge to mildly annoy him while improving your footwork.

“You're using too much shoulder,” he said, stepping around you. “All power, no control.”

“You sound like Sanji when he critiques my chopping skills.”

Zoro scoffed. “Don’t lump me in with the eyebrow.”

You grinned. “Hit a nerve, mosshead?”

“Try again, and I’ll knock you on your ass.”

“Oh no, sensei, I’m quaking.”

Zoro rolled his eyes, stepping in to correct your posture, hands rough but surprisingly careful as he nudged your wrist and shoulder into position. He stood too close for it to be entirely comfortable—not for you, at least—and his breath was warm against your ear when he muttered, “Now, swing.”

You did.

Too fast. Too hard. Too ambitious.

Zoro moved to block—too late.

There was a flurry of movement. Your feet caught on each other. His elbow knocked into yours. Balance gone. Two bodies tumbling—

And then—

Wham.

His weight half on top of you. The practice sword somewhere nearby, long forgotten. His lips smashed awkwardly against yours—messy, breathless, more collision than kiss.

Silence.

Hot, stifling, vaguely sandy silence.

Zoro lifted his head, eyes wide like someone had just hit him with a frying pan. His nose bumped yours again.

You blinked at him.

“Well,” you said, voice dry, “that’s one way to teach me about impact.”

Zoro scrambled back like he’d been electrocuted, nearly tripping over his own sword in the process.

“I—I didn’t—That wasn’t—” he pointed at you, flushed, eyes wild. “You fell!”

“Correct,” you said, propping yourself up on your elbows. “I was there.”

“We collided!”

“Yep.”

“Your face was just—right there!”

“I imagine it still is.”

Zoro stared at you like you’d grown a second head. You sat up fully, dusting off your shirt, and glanced around.

“Honestly,” you said casually, “I’ve had worse landings.”

“That was your mouth!”

“Well, it wasn’t your foot, so I’m counting my blessings.”

He stood there, mouth slightly agape, looking like his brain had entered maintenance mode. You picked up your fallen practice sword and twirled it idly.

“Anyway,” you added, giving him a once-over. “You okay? You didn’t, like, sprain your pride or anything?”

Zoro blinked. “I—I kissed you!”

You looked at your wrist like you were checking an invisible watch.

“And I’m still breathing,” you said. “So no emergency.”

“You’re weirdly calm about this.”

“Zo, you once mistook a cactus for a training dummy and challenged it to a duel. Our standards for ‘weird’ are skewed.”

Zoro turned scarlet.

“That was one time.”

“I still have the sketch Usopp made of it.”

“I will burn it.”

You shrugged, walking past him toward the rail to stretch your sore legs. “Go for it. I have backups.”

He followed after a second, still visibly flustered, arms folded tightly across his chest.

“So,” he said slowly, suspiciously, “you’re not… mad?”

You looked at him. “Mad? You tripped and accidentally kissed me. I’m not gonna sue you for emotional damages.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“I know.”

“It wasn’t, like, a move or anything—”

“I know.” You smiled, folding your arms. “Though if it was, I gotta say—clumsy technique. Room for improvement.”

That shut him up.

For about three seconds.

“You’re infuriating.”

“You kissed me.”

“That doesn’t mean I like you!”

You raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say you did.”

More silence.

Then Zoro turned abruptly toward the rail and muttered, “Well, maybe I do.”

You stared.

He stared harder at the horizon.

“…Did you just confess to the ocean?”

“It’s neutral ground.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“And you’re annoying.”

You stepped closer, bumping your shoulder against his.

“Do you always fall on top of people when you’re into them?”

“Only the ones who can take it.”

You smiled, surprised and not surprised at the same time.

“I’m flattered.”

He side-eyed you, still red in the ears. “So… you don’t mind?”

“The accidental kiss? Or the part where you basically admitted you like me?”

“Both.”

You gave it a moment. Then shrugged. “I don’t mind either.”

He blinked. “Seriously?”

You looked him up and down. “You’re hot, skilled with three swords, and somehow managed to trip and kiss me without impaling either of us. That's impressive.”

“You have low standards.”

“I have realistic standards. And I’ve seen you snore in a tree upside-down. I’m not exactly expecting poetry and roses.”

“…Good. I don’t do that stuff.”

“Obviously.”

You leaned on the railing beside him.

“You know,” you said casually, “if you want to properly kiss me sometime, you could just ask.”

Zoro stiffened.

Then, very slowly, he said: “…You mean, like... on purpose?”

You nodded. “Yeah. With mouth coordination and everything.”

He looked like he was solving a physics equation in his head.

“That’s… bold of you.”

“I am bold.”

He glanced at you, then at your mouth, then away again, scowling like it personally offended him.

“Maybe later.”

You grinned. “You say that like I’m on a schedule.”

He muttered something under his breath that sounded like “annoying brat,” but didn’t walk away.

Later that night, you found a small bundle of snacks on your bunk—your favorite, carefully tied with a red string.

There was no note.

But Zoro was mysteriously missing from post-dinner drinks.

And when you found him again, fast asleep on the training deck with a slight smile and a very obvious blush…

You didn’t say a word.

But you did steal his bandana and left a note in its place:

“Next time, I’m aiming for your mouth. On purpose.”

MIHAWK

The first thing you learned after arriving on Kuraigana Island was that everything was too quiet.

The second thing you learned was that Mihawk didn't do "chit-chat."

He spoke in silences and glances, moved like a blade through shadow, and regarded most human emotion with the polite detachment of someone observing a minor weather event.

You weren’t sure why he agreed to let you stay, but you weren’t complaining. Something about “discipline” and “training potential.” Or maybe he just liked the sound of your sword clashing against his—it was hard to tell.

Currently, the clash in question was taking place in the overgrown courtyard behind his castle. Vines curled along shattered pillars, moss blanketed stone steps, and two crows cawed disapprovingly as Mihawk parried your strike with less effort than someone brushing lint from a coat.

“Tighter grip,” he said, flicking your blade aside.

“I have a tight grip,” you huffed, adjusting your footing. “My bones are humming.”

“Your technique is humming,” he replied, stepping around you. “Your bones are just trying to keep up.”

You gave him a look. He returned it with a subtle, unimpressed tilt of his head.

“I’m going to hit you eventually,” you muttered.

“Unlikely.”

“Says the man with a bird for a butler.”

“Perona talks more than you. And she’s a ghost.”

You lunged again—he sidestepped effortlessly. Your momentum carried you forward, and before you could recover, Mihawk moved. A blur. His hand on your arm, redirecting. Your balance tipped.

One misstep.

You fell.

So did he.

Right on top of you.

His hat flew off.

Your mouths met in a brief, surprised, and completely accidental kiss.

It was soft. Barely a second. Warm. Smelled faintly of red wine and leather.

Then—

He blinked.

You blinked.

The crows blinked, probably.

“…Well,” you said, still flat on your back. “That’s one way to parry.”

Mihawk didn’t move immediately. His face was inches from yours. He was clearly calculating something—trajectory, blame, moral ramifications, possible prison time.

Then he leaned back, brushed nonexistent dust from his coat, and offered a gloved hand.

“I believe that qualifies as a technical error,” he said flatly.

You took his hand and stood. “Are you talking about my stance or the kiss?”

“The latter,” he said. Then, after a pause, “The former was already unsalvageable.”

You snorted. “Charming as always.”

“Mm.”

He turned to retrieve his sword, as if he hadn’t just accidentally kissed someone in the middle of sword training on an abandoned island.

You rubbed your jaw. “You kissed me.”

“I landed on you.”

“Lips-first.”

“That was not intentional.”

“Shame. You’re weirdly good at it.”

Mihawk paused mid-step. His eye flicked to you like a dagger. You could’ve sworn one of the crows wheezed.

“I am proficient in many skills,” he said at last.

You nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll add ‘spontaneous kissing’ to the list.”

“Remove ‘self-preservation,’ while you’re at it.”

You grinned. “I’ll take my chances.”

He turned back toward the castle with his usual smooth grace, pausing just long enough to say over his shoulder:

“You’re due for footwork drills. Ten laps.”

“For kissing you?”

“For falling.”

“Again, you fell too.”

“And yet here I am. Standing. Composed.”

“Smug.”

He didn’t deny it.

You did your laps. Begrudgingly. Grumbling.

By sunset, Mihawk was seated on the stone steps, wine in hand, his sword resting beside him like an extension of his arm. You joined him, flopping down with a huff and sweat-damp hair.

“You planning to avoid talking about it forever?” you asked.

He sipped his wine. “Define ‘it.’”

“The part where you kissed me.”

He glanced sideways. “Do you truly require verbal confirmation of what your mouth already knows?”

You blinked. “Is that your version of flirting?”

“It’s my version of clarity.”

You stared at him. “So you’re not denying it?”

“I am denying the accident. Not the effect.”

You tried not to visibly short-circuit. “That was almost romantic.”

“I could try again,” he said calmly, still watching the horizon.

“Oh yeah?”

“Properly this time.”

You hesitated.

Then turned to face him. “Alright.”

He looked at you fully now, gold eye sharp, steady. There was no dramatic lean-in. No swelling music or cinematic pause.

He just placed his wine down, leaned in slowly, and kissed you.

Softly.

Deliberately.

His lips were cool from the wine, but his hand warm as it rested lightly on your jaw. No rush. No fumble.

Just precision. Control.

Steel and silk.

When he pulled back, you were pretty sure the crows had tactfully flown off.

“Well,” you said faintly. “I see why people fear you.”

“Because I kiss well?”

“Because you do everything like it’s a duel.”

He raised a brow. “Is that a complaint?”

“Not in the slightest.”

You leaned back, satisfied. “So... are we dating now?”

“That depends,” he said. “Will it interfere with training?”

“Only if you kiss me mid-swing.”

He gave the faintest smile. “Then we’ll manage.”

Later, you found a red wine left near your sword. Wrapped with black ribbon. No note.

Very Mihawk.

You kissed his cheek in the morning.

He didn’t protest.

But your next sparring session? Brutal.

You limped for three days.

© dollywons for the dividers <3

[cherrygirlfriend]

─── YOU'VE GOT MAIL .ᐟ

...or him dreaming of you.

★ pairing.ᐟ frat!rafe x nerd!reader

★ summary.ᐟ rafe cameron is the golden boy of kildare university; certified frat boy, captain of the football team, relentless party animal with lines of girls to sleep with.

reader couldn't be more different; while she has the best grades in the whole school, she suffers from social anxiety disorder, and her social life is limited to her three best friends and the cat she secretly snuck into her dorm room.

both of them decide to join the anonymous chatroom for their campus, and start talking to one another, a friendship starting to form between the two; but neither of them know how different the other is.

★ author's note.ᐟ this is a bit of a fluffy filler… i have something exciting coming for them it makes me giggle!!

YOU'VE GOT MAIL!

the fall break was coming up, and so far, the only plan you had was to crash over at vivian's place, fully aware that you were less than welcome to go home to your parents. you were on your laptop, your messages with MalachiConstant open on KildareUChats.

YOU: you got any plans for over the break?

MalachiConstant: yeah, a bunch of us are going to our buddy's lakehouse.

YOU: geez, i'm jealous.

MalachiConstant: well i'd invite you to tag along but i'm pretty sure your response would be 'i'd rather die'

YOU: you know me so well, vonnegut. YOU: nah, my plan is to go to my friends' place, we're just gonna spend the entire week playing video games and watching really bad romcoms while eating half our bodyweight in junk food.

MalachiConstant: and is the cat coming too?

you chuckled, looking to angel who was currently munching on her dinner, before turning back to your laptop.

YOU: nah, i got a catsitter. my friend's mom is allergic.

MalachiConstant: damn, cat-free and everything. MalachiConstant: don't do anything i wouldn't do poe

YOU: i don't think there's much you wouldn't do. YOU: i still remember you telling me about diving off a roof into a pool.

MalachiConstant: hey, i used to take swimming lessons. i was a pro at work

YOU: and also under a nice amount of promilles.

MalachiConstant: someone's just jealous because she doesn't have the balls to dive off a roof.

YOU: let's not get it twisted. i'm smart enough to not dive off a roof.

you and vivian were studying in the library for an exam, when she suddenly spoke up. "so… i have some news." vivian looked at you with pursed lips, making you instantly aware that whatever her news was, it would not be good.

"what is it, viv?" you asked, trying not to show to the girl how nervous you were. "come on, spit it out."

"soo... topper kind of invited me to come hang out with him over the break..." she tapped the rubber end of her pencil against the desk. "alright...?" you questioned, your brows furrowed. "what's so bad about that?"

"it's for the whole week." vivian cleared her throat, "at his family's lake house..."

"viv!" you groaned in exasperation, "we have plans. you told him no, right? that we were hanging out for the break?"

"well..." she looked down, doing everything to keep her eyes anywhere but on your face, "i kind of said i'd talk to you about it..."

"i can't believe you." you scoffed, "you're ditching me. you know the crap i go through when i go home and you're-"

"no, it's not like that!" your best friend interrupted, putting her hand on your arm as a way to calm you down. "i told him that i couldn't do it because i was gonna hang out with you, but then he told me to bring you along. and he said i can bring zainab and emilia along, too. zainab said she couldn't make it, but em is fully in."

you shook your head, letting out a soft scoff, "vivian, you know how bad my anxiety is. spending a week with a bunch of strangers sounds like my worst nightmare."

"hear me out." vivian insisted, "most of the football team is gonna be there. which means that your online boyfriend is also likely gonna be there."

"so?"

"so you have a chance to finally find out your mystery guy's identity! then you'll fall in love, get married and have a bunch of babies who'll call me auntie viv and i'll secretly buy them beer when they're too young to buy it themselves."

"i'm seriously starting to think that you don't have any morals."

"i'm dead inside." the pink-haired girl shrugged her shoulders, "so? are you in?"

"what makes you think i want to know the identity of the dude?"

"the fact that you get all giggly whenever your damn phone lights up like you're a middle schooler passing notes with your crush. you wanna be with him, don't you? you're so much more open, so much happier than you were BFB."

"BFB?"

"before frat boy." vivian grinned at her own wit, softly nudging your arm, "you totally have the hots for him."

"no one says that anymore." you rolled your eyes, fiddling with the edge of a sheet of paper, "i'm nervous. what if he doesn't like me?"

"girl, shut up." vivian let out a frustrated groan, "i've seen the messages you send each other. it's like the online version of eye-fucking someone. seriously, you two might as well be sexting, and that would somehow be less couple-y than the shit you have going on now."

"we're not that bad!" you exclaim in feigned offense, making vivian lift her brows, "not that bad? what did the message he sent you last night say again... something about dreaming about just staring into your eyes. him asking you to describe how they look just so it could be accurate?"

you couldn't help but feel your cheeks starting to burn as you thought back to the messages you'd been exchanging the night before.

YOU: i'm currently looking up at the stars. YOU: i actually took an astronomy class a while back!

MalachiConstant: of course you did, nerd. MalachiConstant: you know what'd be nice?

YOU: i'm sure you'll tell me!

MalachiConstant: ha ha. MalachiConstant: i wanna look at the stars with you, poe. i can picture you womansplaining all the constellations and shit.

YOU: aww, that's weirdly kinda sweet. YOU: who are you and what have you done with vonnegut boy?

MalachiConstant: really appreciate how seriously you're taking this MalachiConstant: i dream of you sometimes, you know

YOU: oh? YOU: what do you dream about?

MalachiConstant: all kinds of sappy shit MalachiConstant: i dream of just staring into your eyes MalachiConstant: i'm pretty sure your eyes are gorgeous

YOU: good theory. you don't even know what they look like. does that line seriously work on any girls?

MalachiConstant: maybe you should describe them to me.

you bit down on your bottom lip, vivian looking at you with an expectant look on her face, "he likes you, sweetie. and he's still gonna like you when he finds out who you really are. if he doesn't, then he's a fucking idiot."

"viv-"

"say yes. say that you'll come. what do you have to lose?"

letting out a sigh, you shook your head, vivian looking at you with a pleading look in her eyes. "i hate you, viv."

"is that a yes?"

"yeah." you rolled your eyes, "it's a yes."

TAGLIST: @yktayy9669 @tinythebunni @dywho @melalsworld @akobx @samwinchesterisawhore @st8rkey @jjasmiineee @ltristessedureratoujours @a-lovers-card @uselessnewt @lunaleah @letstryagaintomorrow @cinnamqnnlatte @papapoy @kay133sposts @wtfisastiles @butterfly1c @emmiesummers @melodyyybubbles @toomanywhitelies @littl3loveydovey @scne-vampire @alwaysmaybank @mysticbby2009 @luna443 @drewstarkeyswife-7 @flowerluvr @kisselxoll - cont. in com

[theonlyonesora]

The Third Rule

Lily x Oscar Piastri x You (Reader)

Synopsis. “They were a pair—until we became a triangle.”

Chapter 01 – Pocket Boyfriend

The sun hit just the right angle on campus that day, golden and soft, like it had been filtered through a summer memory. I had collapsed onto the grass beside our little group, my backpack flung somewhere behind me and the weight of my finance finals finally peeling off my chest. I was free. My brain was still buzzing with formulas and late-night study sessions, but the only math I wanted to think about now was how many drinks I could responsibly down at tonight’s party.

“I swear if I failed macroeconomics I’m transferring to a cult in the woods,” Meg said, sipping iced coffee like it was the blood of her enemies.

“I’m going full wine aunt this holiday. Just me, my dog, a playlist called ‘crying at brunch,’ and no contact with reality,” Jessy declared, lying flat on her back with her sunglasses sliding down her nose.

And then there was Lily—perfect posture, hair somehow unbothered by the wind, scribbling something in her planner like we weren’t already mentally clocked out for the semester.

Lily and I had met in the first month of college. She was studying engineering, which meant she said things like “thermodynamics” and “fluid mechanics” and actually understood them. I was the finance girl with chaotic energy and a too-big planner filled with dreams and half-baked budgeting tips I never followed. We clicked instantly. She was the responsible one, I was the one doing tequila shots in the dorm hallway on a Tuesday. We balanced each other like opposite ends of a seesaw—somehow always meeting in the middle.

And yet, for all our closeness, there was always one ghost in the room: Oscar. Her long-term boyfriend. Formula 1 driver. Constantly flying. Constantly in another timezone. I hadn’t met him yet, not properly. He was always just on the other end of a FaceTime or in the stories she told, but never quite real.

“You should meet him,” she’d say. “You two are weirdly alike. It’s actually kinda scary.”

But the meeting never came. He was in Monaco. Or Melbourne. Or training. Or sleeping. But he never once seemed to mind that Lily and I were basically joined at the hip. And truthfully, I liked that. I liked that he trusted her. Trusted us. Because I loved her. Not in that way—not really. At least, I didn’t think so. Until that one day on the grass.

Jessy’s voice broke through the sleepy lull of our post-finals haze.

“So (Y/N),” she asked with a wicked glint in her eyes, “have you done it?”

“Done what?” I blinked, half-dozing.

“Ménage à trois.”

“Excuse me—what? It’s noon,” I groaned, sitting up. “It is way too early for this kind of scandal.”

“Just answer,” she pressed.

I laughed, brushing a blade of grass off my jeans. “No, I haven’t. Never done it.”

Jessy raised an eyebrow. “Not even curious?”

Before I could open my mouth, Lily’s voice slid in, soft and casual. “Are you curious?”

I turned to her. “Are you?”

She shrugged, playful, but something flickered in her expression—quiet, electric. “I don’t know… I think it can’t just be with anyone. But wouldn’t it be strange to do it with strangers?”

There was a pause. An almost imperceptible shift in the air. The kind of silence where a thousand things go unsaid but somehow still felt.

“I did it with a cousin once,” Jessy said, so casually she might as well have been talking about borrowing sugar.

“Oh my God,” Meg choked, nearly spitting her coffee.

“What?” Jessy blinked, genuinely confused.

“It’s family!” I said, horrified but laughing.

“It was high school!”

“Still!” I replied, shaking my head, half-disgusted, half-intrigued, and fully spiraling into the kind of laughter that makes your ribs ache.

Lily was laughing too, but something in her gaze lingered. She looked at me for a moment longer than usual, head tilted slightly, like she was filing something away in the corner of her mind for later. Like she was imagining something.

And I should have known then. I should have felt it—that thread pulling tighter, twisting quietly around us, waiting for the perfect night to snap.

.

Lily’s room smelled like coconut body lotion, hot flat iron, and vanilla perfume—basically the scent of girls getting ready to destroy lives

“You realize we’re just going to a bar, right?” I said, grinning. “Not the Oscars.”

“You can’t call it a ‘just a bar’ when it’s finals week and the entire city is out celebrating,” she replied, adjusting a gold hoop. “Besides, it’s been forever since we all went out.”

“We went out last week.”

“I said all

I rolled my eyes and stepped further into the bathroom, stealing a pump of her lotion while she was distracted. We'd been living together for four months now in a spacious apartment two blocks from campus—big enough for sleepovers in each other's rooms, dance parties in the living room, and nights spent sharing pizza and soft secrets. It was easy with Lily. Always had been.

And just as she picked up her phone to check the time, it started buzzing. Oscar.

“Speak of the devil and he FaceTimes,” I muttered, smirking.

Lily answered, holding the phone up to her face. Her voice instantly softened. “Hey, babe.”

I backed up a little to give them space but hovered just enough to be nosy.

“Are you with (Y/N)?” Oscar asked through the speaker.

I leaned into the frame dramatically, still in my towel. “Hello, pocket boyfriend.”

Oscar chuckled. “Hello, trouble.”

“Are you still calling him that?” Lily asked, amused but mock-exasperated.

“What? He’s always in your pocket! I’ve never seen him outside of a phone screen. Honestly, I’m starting to believe he’s AI.”

“Deeply hurt,” Oscar said with a hand to his chest. “You wound me.”

“But you're so polite about it,” I teased. “That’s what makes it worse.”

Our dynamic was weirdly natural for two people who’d never met in person. Friendly banter. Inside jokes. I’d always respected the space he and Lily shared, but I’d also never shied away from being me

“You two going out tonight?” he asked, brushing a lock of damp hair off his forehead.

Lily nodded, tilting the phone to show her outfit. “Yeah. The girls and I. Just bar hopping. (Y/N) made us promise we wouldn’t end up doing karaoke again.”

“That was one time!” I shouted from the bathroom.

Oscar grinned. “Just make sure she drinks water this time.”

“I always

Lily laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”

Oscar’s eyes softened at that. “You always do.”

There was a little pause then. Just a second too long. Like the sentence sat there between us, warm and humming with something neither of us fully named. Because yeah—she always did. And sometimes, I worried I let her.

“I gotta get dressed,” I said, suddenly aware of the towel slipping a little too far down my chest. “Nice seeing you, Oscar.”

“Soon, I hope,” he replied. “In real life. Not just FaceTime.”

Lily smiled, eyes flicking between the two of us. “Maybe we’ll finally make it happen this summer.”

“Careful,” I said with a wink. “I might actually steal him.”

“She’d probably let you,” Oscar joked.

And Lily?

But she didn’t say no.

[luxcuriousao3]

Not-So-Creepy Landlord!König Part Three

Masterlist

Warnings: none Notes: he baby WC: 843

Your landlord was odd.

That wasn’t news—you’d known from the second you met him that he was a grade A weirdo—but what was news was that he was also strangely… sweet?

You supposed he had always been sweet—he had started helping you with your groceries after only a few weeks of you living there, after all—but you hadn’t noticed, too busy thinking he was plotting your murder.

(You weren’t yet entirely convinced that he wasn’t. Just… mostly convinced. Enough to let your guard down a little bit more.)

But it was hard not to see it, once your eyes had been opened. His awkward attempts at conversation, when he told you little bits about his childhood in the apartment where you now lived, were less offputting, and more endearing. The way he pretended to be sweeping the lobby so he could carry your groceries to your door was no longer creepy, but kind. And the grin he gave you when he sat down at your too-small table as you poured him a glass of lemonade was honestly kind of adorable, despite the gruesome scars twisting the expression of joy into something straight out of a horror film. The happiness just radiated off him, his massive form folded and squished and hunched over to fit into the chair. He did it with ease, and you wondered how long it had been since he’d fit in one.

It was the third time you’d let him into your apartment to put your groceries away, the little routine the two of you had established finding a permanent place in your schedule. You expected him to wait at your door instead of running off, now, bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager for his reward. He was a little like a dog, in that way. A huge, scary-looking, stray that just wanted to be told he was a good boy.

You’d always liked dogs. Especially the big ones.

“I planted lilies in the garden,” König said as he drank lemonade. “Did you see?”

“I did,” you answered, leaning against the counter. “They look beautiful. Lilies are my favorite, you know.”

“I know,” König said earnestly, looking very proud of himself. “You told me before, when I gave you a tour of the apartment.”

“And you remembered?” You asked, surprised and more than a little touched.

“Ja,” he replied, nodding. He went to take another sip of his lemonade, but then frowned down at the cup when it came up empty. “I remember everything you say.”

And… that was kind of weird, but again, also weirdly sweet.

“Do you want more?” You offered, and König looked up at you, blinking those perpetually sad, perpetually big blue eyes at you. If you stared at them too long, you started getting the urge to wrap him up in a blanket and give him hot chocolate. It was unnerving.

“You usually shoo me away as soon as I finish,” he pointed out, and you coughed in embarrassment, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Well, I can certainly do that, if you want—” you started, only for König’s eyes to widen as he shook his head rapidly.

“Nein! Nein. I would like some more, please,” he answered quickly, holding out his glass to you. You huffed, half annoyed, half amused, and refilled it before giving it back. He smiled shyly at you. “Danke.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed in reply, then turned towards your sink and made a face at the pile of dishes that had accumulated. Not having a dishwasher was turning out to be quite the adjustment.

“Is something wrong, Ma— Fraulein?” König asked, and you glanced over your shoulder to see him watching you with a furrow between his red brows. You waved a hand at him dismissively.

“It’s nothing,” you insisted, turning on the faucet and starting to tackle Mount Dishware. “Just not a fan of doing dishes by hand, is all.”

König was quiet for so long, you almost forgot he was there. By the time he spoke up again, you were already halfway done.

“I have ordered a dishwasher,” he declared, and you nearly dropped the plate you were holding in your shock. “Someone will come to install it in three days.”

“Wait, what?” You stuttered, clutching your chest with a soapy hand as you waited for your heart to stop racing. For such a big guy, König could be worryingly silent.

“The dishwasher will get here tomorrow. I chose overnight shipping. But I could not get someone out here until Thursday.” König’s shoulders were hunched, his chin tucked to his chest. “I am sorry, M— Fraulein. I will do your dishes for you until then.”

“What— I don’t have the money to buy a dishwasher!” You replied, a tad hysteric. “Or pay for its installation!”

König’s frown deepened, and he tilted his head to the side a little, like a confused puppy.

“You did not buy it,” he said. “I bought it. Just now.”

You gaped at him, wide eyed and speechless.

Yeah. Your landlord was so odd.

[dantes-jacket]

I’ve only wanted you

Dante x fem reader

Author notes: request #3! You confess to Dante and he rejects you. You two get into an argument, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, love confessions

Dante Sparda. The infamous half demon half human demon hunter. Everyone in town knows his name and his business, Devil May Cry. But you know him as a goofy guy that loves pizza and strawberry sundaes.

He is also your closet friend and your biggest crush. But you’ve taken that secret to the grave. Or well you’re trying. Every time you two hang out it comes closer and closer to being blurted out.

Would it be a bad thing if it got known? You don’t know because you can’t even begin to think what he would say or do. He’d probably think you were just joking and brush it off like he does to the waitress at the cafe. Soon you’ll probably be in her boat at this rate.

You can’t help it though, Dante is so sweet and caring. He’s also super protective about you. He acts differently around you than he does with any other girl. He’s a lot more touchy and flirty with you compared to when he’s with Lady or Trish. He also doesn’t shy away from acting that way when they are around. It’s like he wants to make something known. Maybe you do have a chance.

You’re laying in your bed looking up at the ceiling while all these thoughts run through your head. It just makes your heart hurt more and more. Keeping this secret is really hurting you. Tonight you should tell him, even if it ruins everything. The thought of losing him hurts but the pain you’re feeling now also hurts a lot. You’d rather rip the band aid off instead of hurting yourself slowly.

You get out of bed with groan and get ready to head over to Dante’s. He called you earlier asking if you wanna hang out, of course you didn’t decline because you just want to be near him.

The walk to Devil May Cry is about fifteen minutes. It’s nice because the cool breeze is helping calm yourself down. Today is the day you’re going to confess. You know it could end horribly but that isn’t going to stop you now.

When you arrive you knock and the door and it swings open revealing Dante. “Thought you were the pizza man.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh I’m sorry, I can leave if you want.” You jokingly say while turning around to “walk away”.

He laughs at your joke and grabs your hand, “Not so fast, you’re mine tonight.”

You try to control yourself from blushing so he doesn’t see his comment makes you flustered. It does send your heart racing though. You let him drag you inside and he announces the plan for tonight, “Thought we could eat some pizza and catch up.”

“Sounds like fun.” You nod along with the idea. Wonder what kind of games he has in mind.

You set your purse down and kick off your shoes and head into the kitchen. You grab two beers and bring them back to the living room. You immediately fall onto the couch letting out a sigh of relief. Dante’s couch might be worn and old but it’s comforting and warm at the same time.

Dante comes to join you but it’s stopped in his tracks when he hears a knock at the door again. He grabs the pizza and walks back over to you. “Did you even pay for that?”

“Nah I had them put it on my tab.”

“Dante you’re probably going to go even more in debt if you don’t start paying for this stuff.”

“Hey it’s fineeee. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.” He opens the pizza box and instantly digs in.

You try to not blush at this comment too. He definitely didn’t mean anything by it and was just playing with you. You change the subject and ask, “How have you been?”

He swallows a massive bite then answers, “You know same old same old. Killing demons while looking like a total sexy badass.”

You slap a hand over your face and drag it down of course he had to add the last part. “Yeah, yeah. But I meant how you actually are like as Dante.”

“Oh well that’s not fun. When I’m not hunting and killing demons I do nothing but wait to hunt and kill demons. I mean I’ve had some good pizza and strawberry sundaes recently.”

You roll your eyes, this man is really dense sometimes. “We need to get you a hobby that isn’t hunting and killing demons.”

He looks at you like you were the one that killed him family in front of him, “How dare you say that!”

Great now he’s pouting. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant find something to do in your free time while you wait. You like to dance but you’ve barely done that recently. We could get you some books to read-“

“BLEH, books? Are you trying to kill me with boredom? I’d rather sit in complete silence than read a book.”

You roll your eyes at the man again, “Sometimes I really think you’re a child.”

“Hey-“

“But then I remember you are probably the furthest thing from one.” You look over to him and he’s looking at you. You have his full attention and don’t seem like you’re going to lose it any time soon.

“You’re very strong Dante, the strongest person I know. You care so much about everyone around you and carry so many burdens just so you can help them. You’d take away all the pain from everyone and carry it yourself if you could. You hold the weight of the world on your shoulders but you never complain about it. You only face the problems head on and without any hesitation.”

You let out a shaky breath and continue, “I guess that’s why I fell for you. Everything about you is so admirable that it’s hard not to fall for you. I love you Dante and have for a while.”

You hear his breath hitch and you don’t dare to look at him. You close your eyes and pray that it doesn’t end like the bad scenarios you’ve made up in your head.

“Why did you have to ruin this?”

Your eyes fly open and you snap your neck to look at him. He looks absolutely pissed. “Tell me why did you have to fucking say that?”

Now you’re confused, “What- I don’t get what you mean.”

“WHY DID YOU HAVE TO TELL ME YOU LOVE ME!?” He’s standing up now and yelling. He’s never once raised his voice at you. This is a different side of him and you don’t like it one bit.

You stand up and try to stand toe to toe with him even though you know it’s probably useless. “Because keeping it a secret was hurting me! I had to tell you so it wouldn’t hurt anymore.”

“I don’t fucking care! We are friends and now you had to try and cross that line.”

Now you’re mad, “Don’t act like you don’t act differently around me! You act completely different with me compared to Trish and Lady.” You argued back.

“Well I don’t see you any different from those two! You mean the exact same to me as they do, nothing more nothing less. You’re basically a work friend. I’m not interested in you that way at all.”

Work friend? That’s it? After everything you two have gone through together in the past years, he doesn’t see you as someone close to him. You freeze and bite your lip at his comment. It’s like he’s tearing out your heart and handing it right back to you.

“I’m not even a demon hunter Dante!” You yell back. You lower your head so he wouldn’t see the tears that are starting to run down your cheeks. You lower your voice, “I was wrong, you’re not a good person. You’re just a jerk.” You lift your head to look at him and you see him open his mouth just to quickly shut it.

“I guess I made another mistake in loving you. I thought you’d be at least nicer.” You walk past him and slip on your shoes. You grab your purse and open the door.

Dante can’t move. He can’t comprehend any of this. He doesn’t know how it got so bad. But he doesn’t want you to leave. Not like this. Not when he lied to you.

“Hey come on wait-“ he steps closer to you reaching his hand out to grab your hand again.

You move your hand out of his reach, “Don’t touch me.”

“Wait I-“

You look at him solemnly, “This is goodbye Dante.” You then walk out and close the door behind you. Once you’re a couple feet away you sob harder and run back to your apartment.

This went worse than you ever could have imagined. You knew there was a possibility of him rejecting you but you never knew it would end like this. You two are definitely on opposite side of a cliff, with the biggest ravine between you.

Dante begs for you to open the door again and come back. He stands and watches hopelessly. He knows you’re not going to and he’s stupid for thinking that it’s even possible.

Why did he yell at you? Why in the actual fuck would he yell at his favorite person in the whole world? Why would he yell at the woman he loves?

Dante knows why he was so quick to say no though. Everyone he’s ever loved has died or been in some kind of pain because of him. He can’t put you through that and he can’t put himself through losing someone else he loves. You told him he was super strong but he feels so weak now. He feels weak because he broke everything between you two.

His necklace starts to feel oddly heavy around his neck, great his mom is mad at him too. He grabs the necklace and looks up, “I am going to fix this mom. I’m not going to let her get away.” He promises.

While you’re running back to your apartment you run into someone. You mentally curse yourself because now you’re going to be in an awkward situation. Before you can apologize you hear two people call out your name.

You recognized those voice. Shit you gotta run. You try to get around them and mumble a sorry but your hand is suddenly grabbed.

“Why are you running from us?” Trish asked.

You turn to look at them and they freeze at your tear stained face. You hide your face and try to stop the tears. But your broken heart won’t let you. Lady looks at Trish and they silently agree to get you back to your apartment.

They walk you back while you silently cry. Lady takes your purse and grabs your keys from it to unlock your door. Once you’re inside they guide you to the couch.

You finally calm down enough to where you’re not completely sobbing. But still have some stray tears rolling down your face.

Lady now speaks up, “Okay what in the hell happened?” Trish smacks her arm. “Ow what was that for?”

Trish only glares at her, “Let her go on her own time.”

“It’s fine.” You cut the arguing duo off. You tell them what happened and you have to hold them down.

“Oh I’m going to fucking kill him. Shoot him right between the eyes,” Lady growls.

“I’m right behind you girl. Let’s go.”

“Wait stop! Just leave it. It’s already so messy between us and I don’t want the rift to grow even bigger.”

Lady rolls her eyes and questions, “How can you defend him after this? He was a total douche to you.”

“I’m not defending him. I don’t even know if I could do that. What he said hurt me more than anything ever has. But I don’t want to completely burn our bridges. He’s good at what he does and that’s helped me many times.”

Trish sighs knowing you making a good argument. But she isn’t just going to sit around and let you be upset.

“How about this, tomorrow we all go out! I’ll invite some drinking friends and we can relax together. We gotta get your mind off of this.”

“Sounds good to me,” you respond. It actually sounds awful but you know they are going to drag you out no matter what you say. So it’s better to agree than disagree and make another argument happen.

•

A couple weeks have gone by since your big argument with Dante. You two have spoken a word to each other and haven’t seen each other since. You went out with Lady and Trish the next night and it was hell.

Most of the people Trish invited were guys so they were trying to hit on you and it made you feel uneasy. One guy was really persistent though.

His name was Jackson. He was kinda nice and okay to look at. He wasn’t funny, he didn’t like to dance, he wasn’t cocky, he wasn’t Dante. You shook your head at the thought. Dante is your standard now and you can’t even change it.

The going out for drink because quite common within the past few weeks which means you see Jackson more and more. Last night he asked you out on a date. The thought of that made you sick. You didn’t want to go out on a date with him. You’re still thinking about Dante.

You wonder how he’s doing. He’s been radio silent with Trish and Lady too. Maybe he knew they’d be on your side so he just kept to himself for now. You hope he’s okay. You hope he’s eating enough and getting enough sleep. You hope he’s taking care of himself during missions and resting properly after them.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and you look to see Jackson, “So is that a yes?”

Lady buts in and says yes for you. You give her a glare and she just shrugs it off. So much for no date.

Now you’re out shopping with Lady and Trish to get an outfit for the date tonight. They claimed you needed “a fresh new look for a fresh new start.” You hated every second of this. They kept handing you dress after dress to try on.

You ended up falling in love with one dress though. Of course it was red and of course it made you think of Dante. You tell them you want this dress and Trish eagerly buys it for you.

You three are walking out of the store that’s when you see him. The man you secretly have been yearning to see again. You can’t help yourself, you still love him. Even after what he said to you.

As if he senses eyes on him Dante turns and sees you three. He then quickly walks over to the group. Lady and Trish sees him approaching and goes to cover you. All he manages to get out is, “Hey.”

“Hello Dante.” Trish responds. The brave soul that’s going to go toe to toe with him.

“What are the three of you doing here?” He tries to look around the barrier they made to see you but they keep you blocked.

“We’re shopping for her date tonight. Now if you excuse us, we gotta go get her ready.”

“Date?” Dante stammers out not believing what Trish just said. She just nods and pushes you away.

Lady stays back and Dante looks at her, “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“No we aren’t. There’s some men out there that actually want her unlike you.”

“I WANT HER MORE THAN ANYTHING!” He snaps back.

“Then why yell at her like you did? Why say she means nothing to you?”

“Because I’m fucking afraid of losing her. The thought of it hurts so bad. I can take shots like nothing but she can’t. What if something happens to her because of me? I can’t live with that.”

“So you’d rather live without her?”

“No I want her right by my side.”

“You have to pick. You can’t say you want her then push her away. You also can expect to push her away and expect to have her.”

Lady starts to walk aways and looks over her shoulder, “She still talks and thinks about you all the time. She’s leaving at six for her date. If you want to fix this, stop her and apologize.” She then goes to catch up with you and Trish.

Dante stands there watching hopelessly again hoping you’d come back to him. But after Lady’s last comment there’s new fire that burns within him. He’s determined to get you back.

These past few weeks has been absolute hell for him. All he’s wanted to do is reach out to you. He can’t deal without your presence anymore. He misses how your laugh would fill up the quietness of Devil May Cry. He misses how the pillow on the couch you always slept on doesn’t smell like you anymore. He missing calling you and having you come over just to goof around with him.

He misses your beautiful self. He’s always thought you were eye catching. Your presence made him calm and happy. He needs you in his life again. He can’t go a minute without you anymore. Tonight he’s getting you back. He’s sure of it.

You finished getting ready and all you have to do is slip on your heels. You’re happy Lady and Trish left even though it kind of confused you. Lady whispered something in her ear and the two of them suddenly announced they are leaving. But it is peaceful because now you just get to think freely.

You slip on a pair of black heel and look at yourself in the mirror. You looked great, the red dress and heels really complement one another. You wonder what Dante would think of this dress. You shake your head trying to get the thought out. You finally got to see him today even though you didn’t get to talk to him. He looked exhausted, he must have just came from a mission.

You smack your hands against your cheeks to focus yourself. You’re going on a date with someone else tonight. You can at least be decent and not think about another man.

You hear a knock at your door and look at the clock. It’s 5:30 and you agreed to meet at the restaurant. So who on earth could be knocking?

You walk to the door and open it to be greeted with the man that hasn’t left your thoughts. You two stare at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence.

Dante swallows thickly and then murmurs, “Don’t go on the date.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“No Dante I don’t.”

“I can’t really say…”

You were happy to see him now you’re mad. You’ve had enough of this. He’s telling you not to go on the date and won’t tell you why. What is his goal here?

“Okay bye then.” You start to shut the door but he scrambles and stops you.

“Wait please don’t shut the door again. I have a feeling if it shuts again we are done.”

“What’s your goal here Dante? Are you trying to make me miserable?”

He pushes the door open so you two have no barrier between you two anymore. “Hell no. That’s honestly the last thing I want.”

“Funny, didn’t seem like you cared about that last time.”

“I know, I was a dick and shouldn’t have yelled at you. I regret it with every fiber of my being. Human and demonic side.”

“Dante, that doesn’t change what happened. You said I didn’t mean anything to you.”

“I didn’t mean it I promise. I’m so sorry for how I treated you. I wish I could take it all back because I regret it all. I want to punch myself for yelling at you but most of all I hate myself for lying to you.”

You gulp at his words. You think you know where this is going and you don’t know if he’s just going to say it or if he means it. “Dante, what do you mean?”

He steps forward and raises his hands to your cheeks. Seeing that you’re not stopping him, he rests them on your cheeks. He swipes his thumbs back and forth against trying to soothe you.

“I love you. I’ve always had.”

You bite your lip and close your eyes. You are taken back to when he said he saw you as nothing more than a work friend. That you meant nothing more to him. You hear that replaying in your head over and over again.

“You said I was nothing more to you than a work friend.”

You feel him flinch and him whisper, “I know.”

“You yelled at me and said I ruined everything.”

“I know.”

“You said you weren’t interested in me.”

“I know.”

“But Dante the funny thing is even after all that, I don’t hate you. I still am in love with you.”

He sighs and hangs his in relief. “Fuck I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll make it all up to you. I’ll take care of you and protect you. I’ll treasure your love till the day I die. Please give me the chance to make it right.”

“I trust you Dante but you only get one chance. Don’t waste it.”

“I’m not going to fucking waste a second more.”

He dips down to connects your lips. It’s as if a switch has gone off and made everything right again. This kiss feels so perfect and warm. It’s passionate and loving, like Dante is trying to confess even more than he has.

You two break apart and you look to see your lipstick smudged on his lips. You laugh at the look. You raised your hand to his lips and wipe off the lipstick.

“Heyyyy don’t do that I wanna walk around with that.”

“You’re fine. But now I gotta cancel the date. Great Trish is going to be mad the dress didn’t get its use.”

You start to walk away but Dante pulls you back into his embrace. Your back is against his chest and he leans down and whispers into your ear, “Nah you’re going to be a no show baby, no more talking to that guy. But I’m going to take you out because I’m not wasting this sight. You look so fucking hot in red.”

@fashionloverr846

[softsunnyy]

Its criminal that I'm not cuddling Luke rn (esp after the devils loss :( )

What I wouldnt give to just lay on his chest and listen to his heart while some mindless movie plays in the back

-🐥

no bc it took me way too long to finish writing this, but i really feel like it healed a part of my soul.

jesus, what i wouldn't give to see my sweet boy and tell him how well he did and how proud i am while i play with his curls. *Sigh*

anyway, those thoughts got me distracted while i was writing this, so if it doesn't make much sense, I'M SORRY.

your heart aches so much. It hurts to see Luke so stressed, trying to contain his frustration so he wouldn't take it out on you.

you still remember how you stopped breathing when you saw his body inside the net. It's like the world had stopped moving. Your ears were blocked, you couldn't even blink. You watched him get up, skate, leave, and come back, but your mind kept thinking about his pained expression, different from when the puck hit him, and different from the time he thought he'd injured his wrist. It's like he knows this is different. More serious.

and you wanted to run to see him, but your friends by your side stopped you, hugged you, tried to comfort you, to calm you, but their arms felt cold. Not like Luke's. So they didn't succeed, and you had to hold back your desire to go to him.

now you're living the results of that day, with Luke unable to play, having to watch games from home or going to the arena. And it's hard—it's so hard—because you can see on his face how much he wants to be there, helping his team and trying to make a difference.

you see him run a hand through his hair every five minutes, then slap his thigh when a play isn't going his way. His leg bounces up and down in anxiety, and you see him nervously bite his lip; a habit he'd lost a while ago with your help.

and you wanna help him, to do more than just rub his back or rest your head on his good shoulder. You wanna give him the world, heal his body, give him back the ability to play an entire game without tearing his shoulder apart, but you can't, and it makes you feel so frustrated and useless.

and Jack tries to help you, god, even Quinn. You know they've talked to him, trying to guide him through these days where things feel so heavy, where everyone feels guilt and frustration. But nothing works, you can see it. You see it in his tense shoulders, his clenched jaw, and his white knuckles. You see it even when he sleeps, having constant nightmares, tensing his body so much that the next day it hurts even more.

and so the days go by, and with them, the games too, until game 5 arrives, in Carolina, which means you two will have to watch it from home.

that day, your hands are shaking; you're nervous, so anxious. You want the team to succeed, not only because you know them and all the effort they've put in to get where they are, but also for Luke's sake. Because you know a loss will break him completely, and you don't think you can handle that.

when the game starts, the mood is excellent and the lead makes Luke smile, proud. But as it continues and the lead is lost, your sweet boyfriend returns to his serious, worried expression. And he's so attentive, analyzing every play, thinking about everything he would do differently, and all the mistakes they're making.

this time, he's too quiet, too tense. He doesn't even complain quietly when a penalty isn't called, and that makes you play with your fingers, unsure.

when the game extends to the first OT, you feel like you're gonna die, like you're gonna have a heart attack. And during the intermission, neither of you gets up from the couch. You don't even speak, both staring at the tv, trying to make the seconds pass faster.

it's in the second OT that things get more serious. And you wanna bite your nails, stretch your legs, anything, but instead you just stay still, staring at your boyfriend's back, who hasn't moved.

when that penalty is called, you feel a pain in your stomach, a hole in your chest. You have a bad feeling and you hope it doesn't happen. But when Aho scores the goal, the one that gives Carolina the win, you know that's what you felt.

the air became more tense, heavier. There's a loud silence, and you can see his eyes fill with tears in seconds. Tears that soon begin to slide down his cheeks as his hands try to dry them. And you see how he trembles, how he can't stop, so you decide to hug him.

Luke, who's usually so big, strong, confident. Who's usually the one who wraps his arms around you to make you feel safe. Who's always there to pick up your broken pieces and put them back together. That Luke threw himself into your arms, crying, his shoulders shaking with his small sobs.

you've never seen him like this, with his face buried in your chest, trying to hold onto your shirt. He's desperate, and you can only hold him in your arms, trying to give him the same warmth he always gives you.

and you try not to burst into tears when you hear him, when you see him reach his breaking point, finally exploding and letting out all the frustration he's been bottling up for so long.

you've seen his struggle, you've listened to him talk for hours about strategies and plans; about things he learned in practice or advice he's received from other professionals. You've seen his eyes light up differently when he thought about making the playoffs, and how everyone talked about him for a moment, about the Hughes who could be a hero this time.

you've been there every day, and you've seen him through both good times and bad, but you've never seen him like this, so hopeless, guilty, frustrated. Thousands of things are running through his head, thousands of images of moments that could have been different.

Luke has spent day and night wishing he'd moved in a different direction, at a different speed. God, wishing he'd been more careful.

he's spent days avoiding the media, the people who want to ask him about his health. He knows they'll ask him about that moment, and that they'll make him replay it, relive it in his head, and he can't do that, not again, not now.

so when Carolina wins, it was like a stab in Luke's chest, right where his guilt had been growing, making him suddenly feel like the world is about to end. Even though he knows it isn't. Even though he knows he'll be calmer in a few hours.

and you both know he has the right to feel bad now, after a cursed season, filled with injuries, effort, and people doubting them. Luke Hughes has the right to feel bad for once.

so you give him his space. You don't even know how many minutes have passed, but you can feel his breathing calming slightly, and his sobs slowly stopping, until finally his body stops being so tense and he decides to lift his head to look at you.

his red, swollen, and irritated eyes; his red nose; his bitten lips; and a look of pure and complete sadness. That's what you see in him at first. But you can also see the exhaustion, the guilt, and a little relief that at least this torture is over.

“you wanna go to bed, Lu? you don’t have to stay and watch the rest,” you reassured him, and though he seemed to hesitate for a moment, he finally nodded, silently moving away from your body so you could get up, turn off the tv, and extend a hand to help him up.

together, you walk to the bedroom, your steps slow and heavy, heavy with emotion. When you reach the bed, you think about lying down first, but he beats you to it, and you know that for today he needs to feel covered by you, by your warmth, to feel safe. So you lie down, your head on his chest and his arms immediately around you.

there was a moment of silence, where you both tried to gather your thoughts, not knowing what to say to each other, what to do, until you finally decided to speak.

"you know, this isn't your fault, Lu," you began, in a low, gentle tone, one of your hands caressing his chest. He sighs, staring up at the ceiling. "I know everything is so frustrating right now, but this wasn't your fault, Lu, and you don't have to take all the blame."

he knows you're right, and he knows that if he has to open up to someone, it's better if it's you, so he started talking for the first time in a while.

“i know, it’s just…” he sighed, “all i can think about is the things i would have done differently. What i would have done to be able to be there, to help in any way i could. We worked so hard…” his voice broke a little at that point, so he cleared his throat, closing his eyes for a moment to hold back the tears. “We tried so hard, when they stopped taking us seriously, when they thought that without Jack, we were lost…” he frowned at that thought, and you could feel his body tense, so you placed a couple of silent kisses on his chest, bringing him back to reality, making him relax a little. “We worked and worked to be better, to not repeat the mistakes from last time, but we kept coming back to the same thing, and it feels like everyone was right, and it’s so fucking unfair.”

you know that, of course you do. You spent days and days raging at the people in the media, at the commentators who kept showing the video of Jack's injury, talking about how essential he is to the team, and implying that without him it would be incredibly difficult for them to make it. Because of course, you know how important your boyfriend's brother is, but you couldn't understand why they were comparing them too. Why, when they talked about Luke, they had to compare him to Jack, or attribute his incredible talent and performance to his brother's absence. You couldn't understand it, and even though you tried to keep your anger at bay, now you know it also reached your sweet boy, and of course it got trapped in his mind.

it frustrates you so much to know that he thinks about it, maybe even constantly, and to know that right now it torments him, so you lift your head slightly, making him look at you, straight in the eyes, with a small pout on his lips.

“Luke, they’ll never be right,” you started, and your boyfriend could only listen, feeling how determined you were in your tone of voice. “It was a rough season, but the injuries and the struggles... hell, none of that is anything you guys could really control, and yet you pushed through, and you battled, and you dared to give it your all in these playoffs, even if it meant stretching this last game to two overtimes. You had everyone wondering what was going to happen because no one put up a bigger fight than you guys. And it sucks that you couldn’t be there now, but no one can ever question all the hard work you’ve put in because you’ve been the best for this team,” you said, sounding more and more annoyed, not at him, but at thinking about everything you’ve seen and heard.

and Luke listens. For the first time in these last few days, he really listens to you, feeling some warmth in his heart at how you defend him, even when no one's looking, and how you still feel proud despite the things that have happened. He feels grateful, even more in love, knowing that you're not judging him or making him feel worse, but that you're supporting him, lifting him up now when he needs it.

he looks at you with a very small smile, and when you realize it, you stop talking, realizing you'd started to vent, which made you blush a little, embarrassed.

"i´m sorry, but really, Lu, you were amazing, and even though you can't see it right now, you were so good, and you did so well. I need you to know that," you told him, this time in a calmer tone.

he feels things getting softer, and his head stops aching, his hands unconsciously beginning to caress you. You're calming him down, as you always do, with what he calls a superpower, but which is actually your ability to talk and say a thousand positive things about him without having to think about it too much.

he still feels frustrated and sad, but he listens to you talk about him, about his team, and it makes him feel calmer, accompanied. With you, he feels in a safe space, where he can vent and receive honest feedback. And although he knows his brothers tried too, with you it's different; this feels much better, much deeper, and then he understands that this is what he needed so much: to listen to you. To ask for your help.

so he lets you talk, to caress him, until after a while you both decide to rest and forget about tonight for a moment.

you let him choose a movie, and you see him put on one of his comforting choices, one of those he's seen a thousand times, but that always make him feel like he's in a safe and normal environment. And you know he won't pay any real attention, but the sound will keep him distracted for a while.

you rest your head on his chest again, and unlike before, you can feel his heartbeat much more relaxed, as it should be. His hand caresses your back, and then you allow yourself to sigh.

Luke isn't crying, and although his face still shows that he did, you know he feels better now. And these are going to be difficult days, you know it, but you also know that he's much more willing to talk about it with you, to stop being the tough Luke Hughes for a moment and be your sweet boy who sometimes also needs comfort and reassurance.

tomorrow he'll have time to continue worrying, to meet with the team, with the management, but now? he only needs you, so he clings to your body.

and he knows he can count on you, and that's why he feels like the luckiest person in the world. In your arms, he knows everything will be okay, so for tonight, he'll allow himself to forget everything.

thanks for being his safe space, is what he thinks before falling asleep

[navydoves]

Mine soon enough

✎ᝰ cw. professor zayne, tense atmosphere, teacher/student, suggestive, somewhat yearning, very conversational writing, TENSE!

✎ᝰ a/n. i’m inconsistent in everything i post lol. this is written in a very specific way, hopefully it comes across in the tone i want it to.

࣪𖤐

“am i really allowed to be here after office hours like this?”

zayne glances back at you from where he was standing by the tea kettle on his desk and smiles just slightly. “why not? this is my office after all.”

“yeah, but,” you hesitate, “most other professors are really strict on their schedules. i didn’t expect you to be so um… lenient about this.”

a small, almost imperceptible chuckle escapes zayne. “you do know i’m only this lenient on you, right? god i the headache i’d have if i had any other pesky students showing up and bothering me after hours.”

you glance to the side awkwardly and nod. “yeah… i know… it’s just a little strange… being your ‘favorite’ and all…”

“does it make you feel uncomfortable?” zayne’s voice cuts in quickly. he was clicking off the tea kettle now and preparing the two mugs with their respective tea bags.

“n-no… no it doesn’t,” you respond just as fast, “it’s just… not familiar to me. don’t take it personally professor, i only—“

“zayne,” he corrects while pouring the boiling water into the mugs. “zayne is better. you should get over all your formal habits when you’re alone with me. we’re friends, right?”

there’s a beat between you two before you nod.

“yes, friends.”

“well then as long as you’re not uncomfortable and we’re in equal footing here, there should be no problem. you would tell me if there was a problem right?”

another beat.

“yes… i would.”

zayne smiles slightly again. he places the kettle back down and starts properly dipping the teabags into the mugs before throwing them into the small can on the side.

“good. here, come get your tea.”

you move from where you were sat on the leather couch to zayne’s desk. the room was quiet apart from your gentle footsteps and zayne’s spoon swirling. you take your mug, identical to his, and scoop up a few spoonfuls of sugar. your gaze remains on the task below you rather than the man in front of you. he notices this.

“y’know i prefer tea over coffee too. i’ve always hated the bitter taste of coffee beans… even with all the sugar and cream added to it,” zayne hums.

you glance up at him and almost cringe at his attempt at conversation. “yeah, same. i’m not a coffee person…”

zayne looks you up and down with brows furrowed from scrutiny. he picks up his mug and takes a sip, eyes darting to the side in slight annoyance.

“lighten up a bit,” he murmurs. “i invited you to spend time with you. you know how much i enjoy your presence. i'd rather you not feel… weirded out.”

you finally stop stirring and meet zayne’s eyes for the first time. “i’m not… i don’t feel weirded out…”

“you do though,” he rebuttals, “you’re all tense and avoidant. am i doing something? we can take our leave, truly. just tell me.”

a small exhale escapes you after a moment of thought. you shake your head. “no, i’m… like i said im just not used to this. this type of treatment. the… personal hangouts we have in your office. the gifts. the grades. i think… i think we both know things are…”

zayne puts his mug down and mimics your earlier exhale. he moves around the desk and your eyes follow him. right behind you is where he stands, taller and towering, with his chin hovered just over your shoulder.

“i don’t want that to be a problem,” he whispers by your ear. “the hangouts, gifts, grades. i don’t want those to be a problem. i want to give you more, y’know? more… more of everything. are we overstepping lines? sure… but—“

“you are over stepping lines,” you murmur with a slightly shaky voice. the lingering warmth of him behind you was almost trapping you against the desk. “i… i haven’t done anything, you’ve done… you’ve made all the…”

“have you… not liked the attention?” zayne asks almost vulnerably.

“i never said that…”

“then is there an issue? you’re right, i’m overstepping lines, not you. if we got into some heat, i’d take the responsibility. does that mean something to you?” in the moments you hesitate to answer, zayne’s arm wraps around your waist and gently pulls you closer to an embrace. “i want it to mean something to you. what do i have to do?” he continues.

you wet your lips and search the desk below you for answers your mouth couldn’t form. you weren’t sure how long had passed before zayne backed off, but once he did, you quickly turn around to face him. he steps away with his arms up innocently, a look of shame on him.

“i’m sorry, im making you uncomfortable. im not sure what im doing.”

with your eyes avoiding each other, a long silence ensues between the both of you—charged with emotion and uncertainty.

“your tea is going to get cold, professor.”

zayne knits his brows together and trails his gaze slowly across the room, and then on you, and then on the tea.

“right.”

he steps back to his side of the desk and takes his still warm tea and avoids your presence while drinking. whether he wanted you here anymore or not, it was unclear. he notices your rogue, discarded mug of tea on the desk. barely touched and getting colder by the second. maybe it looked like regret.

your back was turned to him and facing the rest of the room, but you were still so close to the desk. unmoving. what was going through your mind, that was also unclear.

slowly, you put down your arms that were crossed in a defensive position, and glance down at the desk. zayne was no longer sipping his tea. you could only assume he was standing as silently and awkwardly as you were.

without much thought, you step back and sit on the desk, back still to zayne.

“my face is turned away, if it makes you feel any less guilty,” you whisper.

zayne’s eyes widen slightly. he looks over your body that was perched up on his desk. what a sight. “don’t say that like i’m some sort of… some sort of…”

“i’m not… insinuating anything, professor… or i guess ‘zayne’. i’m simply saying that, in the situation we’re in right now, guilt is normal to feel. but that… curiosity is too. so… i’m looking away.”

more tense silence.

“are you curious too?” zayne asks with a voice that’s barely there.

you don’t answer for a few moments.

“i’m a woman, zayne,” you murmur. “i can make my own decisions. we’re not too far off in age, yknow. we think similarly… i hope.”

amidst the quiet of the room, zayne walks closer to the desk. he stares right into your back and all of the crumpled fabric lines from your shirt.

“you’re a woman,” zayne whispers while reaching out and ghostly tracing a simple line over your shoulder blade. “and i’m a man. it works like that, doesn’t it? this is natural… isn’t it?”

you swallow. the very faint sensation of zayne’s fingertip makes you tense.

“y-yeah…”

zayne’s finger goes down to your mid back. here he feels you arch away instinctively, but still not rejecting him. he grows bolder with his touch, insisting a bit more with his finger tip until he’s tracing letters.

letters Z through E of his name. ZAYNE was on you.

“my attraction to you is natural, isn’t it?” he whispers. he reaches for the top hem of your shirt and then parts your hair from your neck, exposing your nape. with the pad of his thumb, he rubs there gently. the sensations on your skin were hair-raising.

“i… it is.”

“then does it come naturally to you too?”

you shudder softly as you feel more of zayne’s fingers rake over your skin. he abandons your neck, moving downward again until he was touching the small of your back.

“please, answer me.”

there’s more silence from you, but you break it with a whisper. “my face gives all the answers, but i already told you i’m not letting you look at me.”

“then how will i know how you feel about me too?”

no answer.

zayne looks down at where his hand is on your back and moves it lower to the bottom hem of your shirt. gently, he lifts it—so slow that a million thoughts came and passed in those long seconds.

at the top of your back, he scrunches up your shirt and admires the lines and curves of your skin.

“are you okay?”

“i’m fine.”

zayne rests his head against your back and closes his eyes. he felt stressed but also relieved. this far… he’s gotten this far…

“are you sure you’re okay?” he asks a little bit more desperately this time. his voice and breath tickled your skin a bit. “how am i supposed to know when i can’t even face you?”

you tilt your head back to stare up at the ceiling. the lights should be dimmer, you thought.

“i’m okay,” you whisper. “i don’t feel fear, i don’t feel nervous, i don’t feel anything. can you… will you make me feel something?”

zayne’s eyes fluttered open slightly. he turns his head back to the expanse of your smooth back and rubs his lips together. oh your words…

“i’ll become a man that’ll be capable of making you feel anything you want.”

the hands that were rested by your side went up to your upper mid back and touched the rough feel of your bra clip. with slight hesitation, zayne’s delicate fingers undo the clip and let it pull away to reveal your fully bare back. his eyes flutter even more now.

the moles and freckles of your usually hidden skin was an experience to his eyes.

“i’ll become a man so good that you won’t have to hide your face away in shame. after all, it’s natural, isn’t it?”

cool lips make contact to your back making you perk up instantly. the kisses were spread out, small in sound and in touch, and soon warm. zayne’s free hands not only steady you by the hips but also anchor himself through each press of his lips.

“i want you,” his voice rumbles against your skin

“i know,” you respond.

“after graduation?”

“it’ll still be scandalous.”

“it’ll be scandalous regardless. who has to know?”

you bite your lip. “is it just a lustful thing, professor?”

your words make zayne stop his affections and stand straight.

“never,” he whispers. “have i… made you feel that way?”

swallow.

“no… no you haven’t, i’m not lying either. but… i mean dates and stuff, it’s all so public. we’d get noticed immediately, it’d be risky. but… everything else, that’s done privately. so i’m just wondering… how… or where… or what…”

zayne lets out a small humorless laugh. “you’ll be mine soon enough, without all those worries meaning. i get scared too, yknow? but i’m scared enough for the both of us, so don’t… doubt me.”

you smile a little, unsure of what exactly is humorous. “don’t doubt your ability to keep me a secret, you mean.”

“don’t put it like that, you have such a harsh way of saying things,” zayne exhales.

“right, right, i’m sorry.”

you reach back for his hands and gently pull him forward so that his arms crossed over your stomach.

“but that’s what i am, a secret. you’re a secret too. just… become a man capable of taking care of me, secret or not.”

zayne tightens his grip around you just slightly.

“i’m your professor,” he whispers with his forehead against the back of your cranium, “and if nothing else, my job is to you guide you. you’ll be mine soon enough.”

he presses one kiss to your hair.

“you will.”

࣪𖤐

[thebucketpail]

Hi, sorry, the brain worms got me.

There was a crash, a bang, and a loud whirring that sounded suspiciously like one of Dr. D’s inators firing up. A disappointing and concerning series of sounds considering Danny had just stepped into the other room to find that socket wrench he could’ve sworn he saw on the coffee table. 

Another crash and Danny was bolting back into the lab to make sure his boss hadn’t somehow toppled the humongous machine they had been tinkering with for the past seven hours. What he found instead was something his brain could only classify as a ‘scuffle’.

Also a platypus. For some reason. It was wearing a fedora.

Both sets of eyes snapped to him. A tiny teal fist stopping midair on its way to punching Dr. D in the face.

“Oh there you are Danny!” Dr. D exclaimed, his collar still caught in the semi-aquatic egg laying mammal’s tiny fist. “Danny, this is my nemesis Perry the Platypus. Perry the platypus, this is my new intern Danny!” he introduced. 

The platypus looked between the two of them before settling a glare on Doofenshmirtz. 

“What, he’s paid! Benefits and everything! Tell him Danny!” The platypus raised an eyebrow condescendingly (Do platypi even have eyebrows?? Can they even look Condescending?. Danny didn’t even know at this point.)

“Um,” he cleared his throat. “Yeah, benefits; I get them. A whole hour for lunch, uh four weeks PTO a year. Up to date OSHA compliance..” he listed feeling one hundred percent not at all weird or judged by this tiny teal thing.

“See, Perry the Platypus!” Doof yelled, probably too loud for their proximity but Perry the Platypus didn’t so much as flinch. “I may be evil but I still pay my employees well. That’s better than stuck up Monobrow can say!” 

Perry rolled his eyes (Seriously! Could platypi even do that?!?!) and jumped of Dr. D’s chest, stepping back to cross his arms grumpily as if waiting for something. That something soon happened as Dr. D pulled a remote out of his lab coat and pressed a big red button, springing a cage around his nemesis with entirely too much zeal.

“Aha! Perry the Platypus you have fallen for my trap once again!” He shouted. Perry looked very unimpressed and, in fact, rather resigned. Danny got the impression that this was somewhat of a routine for this Mad scientist and-

“Sorry, what are you?” Danny interrupted. 

Dr. D looked over at him confused. “He’s a platypus?” 

“No no, I got that part but what’s with the fedora?” he pointed. 

“Oh, well, how do I explain this-” The Dr. was cut off by the platypus pulling out a pamphlet from his hat and holding it out to Danny. Danny took it.

‘So You’ve Got A New Nemesis!’ It read in bright bold colors. The pamphlet itself outlined the specific of what to expect from a nemesisship as it was so called, and the different regulations that a ‘Secret Agent’ was expected to follow. Danny flipped through it in interest before handing it back to Perry the Platypus who nodded in appreciation and slipped it back into his hat.

Danny turned to Doof. “Is fighting secret agents in my job description?” he asked. He hadn’t seen it on the job listing but he needed to ask in case it was one of those implied duties that all the other jobs he applied to had. 

Dr. D looked scandalized. “Of course not! I would not require you to fight my nemesis, you’re just my lab assistant!” He shook his head, “You’re welcome to take your lunch now if you want, this shouldn’t take more than an hour. Now Perry the Platypus, where were we? Ah Yes! Behold! The dead-leaf-crunchinator!”

Danny shook his head as he wandered back to the kitchen where he’d left his bag that morning. He’d already listened to Dr. D rant about how disappointed he got when some fallen leaves gave a less than adequate crunching sound when you stepped on them; and quite honestly, he didn’t need to listen to that again. But he supposed such was to be expected when you answered a job listing for a mad scientist’s lab assistant. 

Maybe he’d get sushi for lunch, there was this great place a couple blocks down.

Whenever I get a new hyperfixation I immediately start brewing crossovers with whatever my special interest at the time is. Which is kind of unfortunate because it can result in the most off-the-wall nonsense shit

Anyway I just think it would be fun for Danny to work as Doofenshmirtz’ intern (a PAID intern because he might be evil but he’s not as evil as Major Monogram!)

Danny could technically stop Perry from wrecking Doofenshmirtz’s shit but he just kind of. Doesn’t. It’s not his job to fight off Doofenshmirtz’ nemesis, his job is to troubleshoot Doofenshmirtz’s plans so he stops missing obvious problems

(Vanessa has been lodging complaints)

Danny just wants some formal work experience and Doofenshmirtz was impressed by the things he talked about doing in his parents’ lab and also by his tragic backstory (required)

Doofenshmirtz- also you were the only one that applied

Side effect of this is that Doofenshmirtz starts having to comply with OSHA safety standards because if he doesn’t then Danny refuses to eat lunch at work and Doofenshmirtz doesn’t like it

Doofenshmirtz- I’m not going to give you radioactive food!

Danny- I literally just don’t believe you

And yes Doofenshmirtz DOES immediately start trying to unlock more of Danny’s tragic backstory just because it seems like the thing to do and then proceeds to wheedle him into talking about it during nemesis fights (“You need to communicate!”)

Danny reminds Perry of his boys so they have an unspoken policy of ‘Danny won’t stop Perry and Perry leaves Danny alone’ which Doofenshmirtz appreciates. Perry absolutely realizes that Danny could be a much bigger threat if he wanted to but he also clearly doesn’t want to so Perry’s not really worried about it

Danny doesn’t really interfere either way because honestly the balance these two have going on is impressive. Doofenshmirtz makes his ‘evil’ inventions to work out his trauma and Perry makes sure no one gets hurt from them. No interference needed

This is probably some sort of tragic 18-19 year old Danny that’s really just trying to move on from everything that happened at Amity Park and doesn’t really want to think about it anymore

And yes half of this is just because I think it would be fun for Doofenshmirtz to have a slightly smaller younger assistant with a marginally less tragic backstory

…God why is there so much to this AU