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[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Neighborly (Part 3/Ending)

mdni

Masterlist

Soap x reader x Ghost

Summary: You didn't know hate until Johnny MacTavish. (Or a really big build-up to cuddles and smut).

Warnings: SMUT, vaguely dom Ghost, unrealistic recovery time from near death experience/hypothermia, cuddling for medical reasons, implied medically-related stripping, implied anxiety disorder/depressive disorder, self-isolation, language, incredibly shitty communication and social competence.

The next day, Ghost had you write a list of things you needed from home. He assured you Johnny wouldn’t be stepping foot in your place, but that did leave you on your own with the Scotsman while the giant lumbered through the snow to pack an overnight bag on your behalf.

Your extremities still had fits of unpleasant tingles, but when Ghost examined your hands and feet, he assured you there shouldn’t be permanent damage. First degree frost bite at worst. He praised your choice in winter boots, thick socks, and heavy mittens.

You’d asked how he knew.

“Had some experience. Nothing to worry about. Trust me.”

Instantly flustered, you’d looked down at the huge socks over your hands, fighting away the question of which man they belonged to, and assured him you did. Stupid, since you barely knew him, but you did, and much more than you should.

It didn’t matter if the man was handsome under that mask or ugly as sin. His voice did things to you. It made you want to sin so much he looked like an angel. And the way he handled you in bed, if only platonically, woke your libido from hibernation. Which was un-fucking-fortunate, all things considered. You’d be a horrible lay at the moment with your chapped skin and lingering exhaustion.

Besides, your neighbors were definitely in a relationship.

As you dozed after a cup of sugary tea, Ghost stepped away to speak with Johnny. You could see through the open door when the big man seized his partner by the back of the neck, leaning forehead-to-forehead as he rumbled something in that intoxicating voice. The mask didn’t come off, but you’d definitely spied a tongue stretching the knit to stab into Johnny’s mouth. Hands went to waists, drifted to asses, displayed affection they probably didn’t realize was so public.

You tried very hard to actually go to sleep after that. It wasn’t like you’d meant to creep on them. And they were the ones who chose to make out in front the invalid’s open damn door.

But it put your thoughts in a tailspin, and everything overwhelmed you. A near death experience preceded by robbery and car problems made for a long day. Waking up in your neighbor’s boyfriend’s arms and realizing they’d seen you naked took the knot of emotions and twisted. Then there was the fact that Ghost was likely elbow deep in your underwear drawer – again for platonic reasons – and it wound you up in the worst way. You were a fucking mess. A wad of feelings without an outlet.

You needed to get off and have a good cry. Either or both. And you weren’t in a position to have either.

When you’d suggested going home, Ghost shut you down before you even finished the thought.

“We’ll take care of you. Owe you, yeah? Besides, you’re still recovering.”

So, you wrote the damn list, asking for your comfy clothes, your toothbrush, phone charger, and other necessities. You resisted asking for your favorite throw blanket or the heavy, knitted monstrosity you tried knitting a few years back that was almost a sweater. Nothing you loved was safe around Johnny, and you didn’t want to be a burden, anyway.

Fuck.

Right.

You were a burden.

When you felt a bit better, you’d handle the empty mugs on the nightstand. What else could you clean? Efficient as Ghost was, he was babysitting for two adults. There must be a mess to clean, laundry to fold, something.

You’d make it right. When you’d put some distance between your waking thoughts and death’s shadow.

Trying to think your way out of the lingering pain with your thighs clenched and your glare drilling into the far wall, you almost managed to dissociate for a beat.

Until he knocked.

“Hey.”

Fucking Johnny.

You rolled over, glowering with the blankets up to your nose. Ghost should hurry and come back.

“’M so sorry, hen.” Failing to take the hint, Johnny inched into the room. His folded arms and heavy frown left him looking severe. The boyish illusion was missing. He was all bulging muscles, faint scars, and dog tags.

You’d wondered more than once if he was military. If he was, you’d bet anything Ghost was, too.

“I almost died,” you mumbled, speaking through the blankets. “I would’ve helped with whatever you needed if you’d fucking asked.”

His eyes snapped shut. His head dropped. Deep breaths lifted his shoulders, and he looked like he was in genuine pain.

Good. That made two of you.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Aye.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Aye.”

“You almost got me killed.”

“Aye.” Eyes wide, hands pressed to the foot of the bed, he towered over you, bubbling over. “I’ll make it up to you. Whatever it takes.”

He was practically panting, trying to escape his guilt. Just one more thing he wanted from you: absolution. A knight seeking a quest of atonement.

If he could take away the memories of betrayal and isolation as you felt your mind break and your body fail, that would work. You almost found enough spite in your heart to say it.

“I thought we were friends.” Half confession, half accusation.

“We are, bonnie, I swear –”

“No, we’re not.”

He clenched the blankets, white-knuckled with wet eyes that promised rain.

“Bonnie –”

“Stand down, Soap.”

You both turned to find Ghost peering in from the hall. He held a duffel bag, lightly dusted in snow that hadn’t quite stopped falling. Doordash had arrived with your order.

He set the bag on the end of the bed, nudging Johnny aside and nodding towards the open door. Johnny got the message, slinking out with his tail between his legs.

“Brought your things. Feel up to a shower? It would probably help at this stage. I’ll set out some towels for you.”

“Thanks.” You ignored Johnny, grateful for the escape Ghost offered from both the conversation and the room. “That sounds great.”

“I’ll get things sorted, then.”

He left you to choose your things from the bag, disappearing into the ensuite you had yet to explore. You got what you needed. Toiletries. Robe. Toothbrush. Just the basics. You’d address your hair later. And… everything else, really. You weren’t ready to see your clothes sitting folded in a tidy pile on your neighbors’ bathroom counter, even less so on their bed.

Ghost reappeared, and he pointed out the towels he’d prepared. “Assume your shower’s like ours.”

“Probably. Thanks.” Again. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Take your time.”

A nice sentiment, but you really couldn’t. You practically jumped out of your borrowed clothes as the water heated, and you got in when it was just north of tepid. You would not use all their hot water. By now, they had to be running on generator power. The power always went out for a day or two when the big one hit. All it took was one tree.

Still, once the sweat and stress-stink washed off, your hand lingered over your chest, an echo of your host’s. He hadn’t gotten frisky. He’d been entirely respectful. But if his hand had strayed even a little…

Or a lot.

Shit. Fuck. No.

You could not get off in your neighbors’ shower. That was out of the question. Even if they didn’t hear you, it was… rude.

Your core ached, stirred from passive aggression to full on fit by the water and your overactive imagination.

Enough. You were clean. You needed to stop.

So you finished your shower (and nothing else) in record time. You wrapped yourself in your robe, wondering if Ghost had packed any sports bras comfortable enough to sleep in.

Both men were waiting for you when you emerged.

“Uh…” Were you supposed to get dressed in the bathroom? Shit. You should’ve…

“Thought it was about time you got that apology,” Ghost said. He stepped closer. His fingertips brushed over the back of your hand, conjuring goosebumps like magic. “You’re cold again.”

“I’m fine.”

“Oh, aye.” Johnny winked. Caught himself. Cleared his throat. “Really am sorry. Wanna prove it. First step towards reparations, aye?”

He inched closer as he spoke, and Ghost stepped back to give him space. You held your ground, but only out of confusion. You technically had more skin covered than you had since they rescued you, but you were hyper aware of the loose knot holding the robe closed.

“What did you have in mind?”

Tea? A year’s subscription to a meal delivery service? A note?

His eyes flicked to your lips. “Thought I could warm you up.”

Your brain sputtered. It even made a sound like your engine had when it ran out of gas.

“I don’t think I understand.”

“I think you do.”

He wasn’t touching you. Yet. But his breath fanned over your lips. His body heat reached through your robe.

His partner was in the fucking room. “You’re in a relationship.”

“Already discussed it.”

You turned to Ghost, shocked, but he was relaxed. Almost casual about his boyfriend seducing the neighbor in his bedroom.

“We both like ya, bonnie,” Johnny whispered in your ear.

You shivered.

It sounded like such a bad idea.

But you wanted it. You wanted a real apology, and a reason to forget it all ever happened.

“How about it?” Johnny was hovering. Waiting for the green light. “Let us make you feel good?”

One more time, you looked to Ghost. You had to be sure. You wanted his permission. His confirmation. He nodded. So did you.

With one hand on your cheek, drawing your attention back to him, and one on the back of your neck, your neighbor pressed you into a kiss. There was no demure pecking. No sweet warm-up. Lips, tongue, and teeth leapt into the fray at the first trumpet blast.

A gasp gave him a window of opportunity, and soon you were eagerly kissing him back, yanking on his stupid mohawk for vengeance and a pitiful attempt at control.

Johnny licked a moan out of your mouth. He scoured your whimpers clean, gulping them down with a happy rumble.

“The best apologies are given on your knees, don’t you think Johnny?”

A silent exchange passed between the men, and Johnny was all smiles.

“Couldn’t agree more. Here, sit down, pretty girl.” He arranged you on the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees to keep the kisses coming. He plucked the robe’s knot free and tugged it open. His lips stayed on yours as fabric fell away from your shoulders, legs, and chest, pooling around your wrists. There was no time for the usual, momentary panic of finding yourself naked for the first time with a new romantic partner.

One more peck, and a whispered, “Lie back, bonnie.” And he was working down your sternum, pushing your knees apart. “Gonnae give you an apology you never forget.”

The apology came letter by letter, spelled through your folds. The S snaked around your entrance, looping over your clit. The O stayed there, spinning around your bud. The Rs wandered, following the O’s path before tracing each side of your entrance. The Y started at your base and swept up, teasing either side of your clit in turns.

He said it over and over again. The clever rhythm had him smiling against you as you tugged at his mohawk, trying to chase each sensation. But his hands were strong, and he kept you spread and stationary. At the mercy of his repentance.

The Os never circled long enough, and his tongue dipped inside just enough to remind you how much you ached for more on every Y.

It was driving you crazy, and tears of frustration gathered, blurring his self-satisfied gaze. You’d had it with him. Even when he went down on you, he took his own pleasure first, playing games you had no spoons left to enjoy. You wanted him to take care of you like he’d promised. You wanted to lose yourself. Wanted to feel desired. Wanted to feel good.

Your whining plea didn’t sound at all sexy to your own ears, but the way the tongue shook with suppressed laughter between your legs proved someone was having a good time.

Solid heat you’d learned to recognize in your sleep slipped up behind you. Long, thick fingers petted back your sweaty hair, and a hand pulled you back, urging you to relax into a solid chest. Ghost, once again coming your rescue.

“Be good, Johnny,” he rumbled. “Stop teasing.”

Eyes glinting, your tormentor’s face appeared. He licked his lips with a wolf’s fervor, eyes flashing from yours to Ghost’s.

“Yes, sir.” His voice had gone rough. Deep. You shuddered, and he squeezed your thighs. “Mind givin’ me a hand, LT?”

Ghost huffed, almost a dry laugh, and his hands left you. You had a mind to complain again, but then his grip appeared under your knees, lifting and spreading even farther than Johnny wheedled earlier. You were obscene. You were desperate.

“You doing alright? Let us make you feel better. Give Johnny the chance to start paying you back for all the trouble he’s caused, yeah?”

One hand clamped onto his arm, unsure whether you planned to push it away or simply cling on. As you vacillated, Johnny craned forward, blew on you, and you spasmed. Your free hand jumped back to Ghost’s balaclava, and you knew what you wanted.

“Yeah. I’m alright. Please.”

“You heard the woman.”

“Happy to serve.” Johnny grinned, nearly feral, and lunged forward with fresh determination.

Now free, his fingers pulled you open, giving him better access to the mess he’d made with all his teasing. His tongue pressed hard, spearing deep as it could reach. It worked relentlessly, trying to scoop out every last drop, but the slick only grew, and he returned to your clit.

Ghost held you at an angle that defied your attempts to ride Johnny’s face, and you turned into a twitching, writhing mass in his lap. When his partner started suckling your bud, you shrieked, and Ghost crooned. His thumbs worked circles in your flesh, soothing the edge of delirium rising with your pleasure.

“Good girl. There you go. Finally letting us take care of you.”

A finger pressed inside, petting and curling as it hunted for the right spot. Every muscle rolled, trying to participate, to join the dance, and then Johnny found what he was looking for, and you screamed.

He’d tormented you so long. You didn’t have a chance to give a warning or brace for the snap. Your orgasm practically exploded, and for a minute you couldn’t even breathe. Everything froze, trying to catch and keep the high as your vision went white and your ears rang. Your thoughts ran slow and thick, like honey in winter, just soft enough for Ghost’s words to penetrate.

“How you feelin’? Rung out or ready for more?”

What a stupid question. Appreciated, but stupid. You’d ask for more until your voice gave out.

You consciously, carefully unclenched your fingers from his mask, from his sleeve. He still held you open, shivering and bare apart from Johnny’s face, still pressing slow kisses with tongue and teeth anywhere he was tempted to taste. Glimmers of firelight caught in the arousal smeared over his cheeks.

“More.”

Johnny muttered something very Scottish you couldn’t quite make out through the fading white noise in your head. But your eyes worked perfectly well, and he put on a show, yanking off his shirt, showing off like he used to when he shoveled the drive.

“Tell her, Johnny,” Ghost prompted. “Give her everything you’ve been thinking since you moved in here.”

“Fuck.” The Scotsman worked his belt free as talked, staring at you. His eyes roved, chasing the paths his tongue had traveled, rising to your heaving chest, to your face, so close to his LT’s commanding gaze. “Heard the neighbor was a hermit. Expected – doesnae matter. Prettiest hermit I’d ever fuckin’ seen. Showin’ up with biscuits and makin’ friendly.” The belt swished free from its loops and clattered to the ground. “Had me graspin’ after my manners with one look. An' after I tried catchin’ your eye in the snow, you took care of me an all.” He popped his button free. The zipper went down. “Wanted to bring ya inside and make things cozy. Had to wait for Ghost. Had to let ‘im see ya. Let him understand.” His hand slipped under his clothes, bringing a swollen red tip peeking over the elastic of his underwear.

“Should’a heard him on the phone,” Ghost murmured in your ear as Johnny pushed down his remaining clothes, already hard and weeping for you. “Thought he was gonna come to just the thought of you some nights. Started giving me ideas before I even had a chance to thank you for minding him.”

Naked, practically glowing in the fire, Johnny swooped down for a kiss. He squeezed a breast, thumbing the nipple relentlessly until you broke for air. Everything about him hummed with energy. A livewire sparking over the street. “Wanna fuck you. Please? Please let me fuck you, bonnie. Sweetest little cunt I’ve ever had. Please?”

Standing where he was, and held as you were, his dick rubbed against you as he spoke.

You were going to combust, and you’d enjoy every fucking second of it. All thoughts of snow and ice had melted. Everything had turned to steam.

“Yes.” He’d dived to work a hickey into your neck during your brief hesitation, and you fought to even whisper your answer. “Please.”

He lined up, rocking shallowly once, twice, and pushing home in a long, burning stroke. You yelped, and he moaned, both going still until the sting had passed. By the time you nodded your permission, he had his hands on your hips, trembling with need.

He fucked you like he was dying. Like you were his last meal and the only lifeline thrown in a storm. It was months of yearning, months of confusion and false starts and greedy hunger that spilled over and burned you like hot wax. There was no shelter – not that you wanted any – and you once again seized Ghost’s arms because they were the only fucking thing he’d let you reach. They would take care of you. You weren’t allowed to do any of the work. Not in that bed. Not that night.

Johnny keened, huffing and growling and whimpering as he went faster and faster. He brought you so far. So close. Just a little more.

But not enough.

His hips stuttered, his head bowed, and his warm release splashed out.

“Fuck.” Blushing from exertion – and probably something else – he looked up from where he was still balls-deep to sheepishly meet your eyes. “I swear, never finished so fast in my life. Didn’t get you there in time, did I?”

He pulled out, and you dropped your head back on Ghost’s shoulder with a wail of frustration. You were too close to stop now. You reached down to touch yourself, but before you could rub one out, Ghost shifted. He moved closer to the edge of the bed, dropping one of your legs to swat your hand away from your clit.

When you didn’t fight him, he reached behind you, and you both heard and felt him work his cock free.

“May I?”

Too horny and too frustrated, you nodded wildly. “I said I trusted you.”

“Glad to hear it.”

He didn’t pick up where Johnny left off. Thick fingers that had really only held you up to this point reached down, groping over breast and belly to reach your center. Long strokes kept the spark in your belly alive as he ran his hand over you, lubing his fingers in the mixed spend.

One dipped in. He paused, considering. Then a second joined.

“Minute I saw you at the door, knew you were a carer,” he said. “Knew it’d been so long since someone took care of you that you’d forgotten how a good neighbor should act.” The fingers curled, scissored, working you with clear and vulgar intent. “Wanted to be more than neighbors. Had to close that door quick. Every filthy thing Johnny said hit me, and I wasn’t fit company.” The full implications of that didn’t quite hit you in the moment, but a hazy vision of him watching you through the windows, palming an erection sent your cunt fluttering.

A third finger. All together, they were wider than Johnny’s cock. A deep breath helped. The thumb flicking over your clit like a moth drawn to a porchlight did more. “Had to figure out how to fix all the fuck ups then. So many delays. Took too damn long.” He pulled his hand free, denying you release.

“You said you’d take care of me.”

“We will, sweatheeart. Easy now.” His hand hovered in front of you, fingers spread so he could watch his good work cling and drip like a liquid spiderweb between his digits. “Fuck. You’re perfect.”

He spread his knees, pushing yours wider, and he lifted you up until his dick rubbed over your entrance. Even without looking, you could tell he was massive. You’d need to relax. You’d need to trust him.

Unlike Johnny, he took things slow. He read every flutter and clench, every gasp and hiss like he was fluent in your personal language of carnality. The stretch constantly rode the edge of too much, but it touched places no one else had reached, stuffed your senses full of bliss. And he was so careful. Tactical.

When he’d sheathed himself, his hands slid to your thighs, positioning you in a similar way as before.

“Think you’ve got more apologizing to do, Johnny.”

“Yes, sir.”

You’d closed your eyes at some point, overwhelmed by everything Ghost had to give, but you snapped to attention when a tongue ran over your clit. Johnny smiled up at you, pleased as punch. Devious fucker.

Ghost thrust, and the sound he pushed out of your mouth was pure filth. Helpless, you made it again with the second push. It happened again and again until it became an unbroken string of praise and pleas. Johnny made a game of keeping his tongue on you, pulling back, going still so Ghost would bounce you along it as he drove into you.

A hand pressed over your lower belly, and you moaned in tandem with Johnny.

“Fuck, Simon. Can feel you moving in her.”

After Johnny’s performance, Ghost clearly had something to prove. The first time you came, you clenched so hard on his dick it actually slowed him down. You thought that would be it, that he’d ride high to the end having achieved his goal. Instead, he kept going, fucking you brainless as Johnny actually giggled below. A second climax left you boneless, and by the third you’d entered a fugue state. Ghost slowed down until you could respond (I’m okay.) and then he drove you over the edge until you forgot how to count. Johnny offered kitten licks and praise throughout. When Ghost finally finished - pulling you flush to his chest and panting in your ear (Good fucking woman.) it was Johnny’s attention to your clit that broke you. He sucked and worked his tongue under your clitoral hood like he was sucking nectar from a honeysuckle blossom.

But you were tapped.

“Can’t. Too much.”

Johnny disengaged immediately, and two pairs of hands lifted you from where you sat impaled. Soft words and warm washcloths bathed you in the afterglow. Gentle suggestions guided you under the covers, and a familiar touch turned you to rest with your back to a heated chest. Warmth crowded in from the front, too, murmured joy and praise leaking through the haze to find you.

You didn’t even realize as you slept that you’d found something far better than a good neighbor. But that understanding would come with the dawn, a cup of tea, and a suggestion to go thrifting when the weather broke so you could find a matching set of truly hideous mugs.

[nothoughtsjustficrecs]

I really enjoyed reading this story, it was so fun and cute and I kind of never want to leave this world of chaos and love 🥺💗

Thank you for writing this wonderful story and sharing it with us!

When I was reading, I decided to write down my thoughts as I go because I knew I'd forget otherwise so below this is literally just the thoughts I wrote down because I do not have the brain power to convert them into actual fully coherent comments [I'll put them below a read more cut for the sake of spoilers and such]

-

“ The maknae in question was indeed face-down on the floor, only managing a weak thumbs up to confirm his continued existence. ” this mental image is very entertaining

“ "Even the penalty box has more romance than our captain." ” damn, penalty box is where it’s at

“ "Until he scared her away by talking about hockey stats," ” poor, obsessed, big, buff baby

The “daily tiger horoscopes” omg. But now I’m curious ngl

“ - Plan C: Vernon's interpretive dance ” SCREECHING

The whole intervention scene is pure chaotic mess, and I love it

“ "What about: 'Looking for someone to share ice cream with'?" Vernon suggested. ” Aww, baby 🥺

“ And somewhere in the lounge, Hoshi was already preparing his "Why Tigers Make Great Wedding Mascots" presentation. ” I would like to see that ngl, but that may just be because I’m whipped for soonyoung

“ - Solution: Have team occupy all surrounding tables ” we love supportive friends

Okay I won’t lie, I got so absorbed reading that I forgot to write things down, which, I think, shows how much I enjoyed it that it sucked in my entire attention!

offside | seungcheol

Author: bratzkoo Pairing:  Hockey team player/captain! Seungcheol x Physical Therapist! reader Genre: fluff, chaos Rating: PG-13 Word count: 6.5k Warnings/note: i wrote this to start chaos. have fun reading!

summary: seungcheol's hockey teammates just wants a break from their captain's strictness with hockey practice and decides to force him to join a dating app.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

"Desperate Times Call For Desperate Teamates"

"We need to do something," Seungkwan declared dramatically, sliding down the practice room wall. "I can't feel my legs, and I swear I saw Dino's soul leave his body during that last drill."

The maknae in question was indeed face-down on the floor, only managing a weak thumbs up to confirm his continued existence.

"He's gotten worse," Jeonghan observed from his position on the bench, watching their leader through the glass as Seungcheol reviewed practice footage. Again. "Yesterday, I caught him making a spreadsheet comparing different practice intensities. He color-coded it."

"That's... normal?" Vernon tried optimistically.

"At 3 AM, Vernonie. 3 AM."

A collective groan echoed through the room.

"Did you know," Mingyu started, still catching his breath, "he named his new hockey stick? I heard him calling it 'Dedication' while cleaning it."

"Better than last week's 'Discipline'," Wonwoo muttered, not looking up from his phone where he was apparently documenting their captain's concerning behaviors.

Jun raised his hand like a student in class. "Question: is it normal that he's memorizing the ice rink's maintenance schedule? He knows when they resurface the ice better than the zamboni driver."

"The driver's married, by the way," DK added helpfully. "Even the penalty box has more romance than our captain."

Hoshi suddenly sat up straight, eyes wide with his trademark tiger enthusiasm. "THAT'S IT!"

"Indoor voice, please," Woozi grumbled, rubbing his temples. "Some of us are still recovering from this morning's 'voluntary' extra practice."

"No, no, listen!" Hoshi was now pacing, his energy seemingly restored. "What does our Coups-hyung need?"

"A life?" Minghao suggested.

"Sleep?" from Joshua.

"Therapy?" Wonwoo pushed up his glasses.

"A GIRLFRIEND!" Hoshi announced triumphantly.

The practice room fell silent. Twelve pairs of eyes shifted to look at their captain through the glass, who was now rewinding the same play for what must have been the twentieth time.

"That..." Jeonghan started slowly, a mischievous smile spreading across his face, "might be the first useful thing you've said all year, Hoshi-yah."

"Hey!"

"No, no, he's onto something," Joshua leaned forward, already pulling out his phone. "Remember when Seungcheol-hyung had that crush on the girl from the coffee shop last year?"

"Oh yeah," Dino suddenly revived from his floor position. "He actually left practice on time for like two weeks."

"Until he scared her away by talking about hockey stats," Seungkwan reminded them.

"That's why," Jeonghan stood up, commanding attention like the second eldest should, "we need a plan. A mission."

"A mission impossible," Vernon quipped.

"Exactly!" Jeonghan pointed at him. "We need to get our captain a girlfriend before he turns this team into an Olympic training camp."

Woozi raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly do you propose we do that?"

"Simple," Jeonghan's smile grew wider, more dangerous. "We form committees."

"Oh no," Joshua muttered, knowing that look.

"Oh YES," Seungkwan perked up, loving that look.

And thus, Operation "Mission Impossible: Get Seungcheol a Girlfriend Because We're Afraid He's Gonna Be More Strict With Practice Like Let Him Get a Life Pls Pls Pls" was born.

"We need a shorter name," Wonwoo noted, already typing it in his phone.

"M.I.G.S.A.G.B.W.A.H.G.B.M.S.W.P.L.H.G.A.L.P.P.P?" Vernon tried.

"Perfect," Jeonghan clapped his hands. "Now, for the committees. Hoshi, you're in charge of daily tiger horoscope readings-"

"That's not a thing," Woozi interjected.

"It is now. Joshua, you're documenting everything. Mingyu and Minghao, you're on style watch - make sure he doesn't wear hockey jerseys on dates."

"Bold of you to assume he owns other clothes," Mingyu muttered.

"Seungkwan, you're our drama department-"

"I was born ready!"

"Wonwoo, you're researching dating apps. Vernon and Jun, you're our social media experts. Dino... just try to survive practice for now."

"What about me?" DK raised his hand.

"You and Woozi are our emergency extraction team. If any date goes wrong, you pull him out with a fake emergency."

"Can the emergency be my dying leg muscles?" Dino asked from the floor.

"Speaking of," Jun suddenly pointed at the glass. "Incoming!"

They scattered like startled cats just as Seungcheol opened the door, looking suspiciously at his suddenly innocent-looking teammates.

"Break's over. Let's run that play again."

The collective internal screaming was audible.

"We start tonight," Jeonghan whispered as they lined up. "For our legs."

"For our legs," twelve voices whispered back.

-

6:00 PM - Team Lounge Preparation

"Places everyone!" Jeonghan's voice commanded through the earpieces he'd borrowed (stolen) from the broadcasting team. "Hoshi, status on the PowerPoint?"

"Forty-seven slides of pure tiger-themed conviction!" 

"It was supposed to be five slides," Woozi muttered, sitting at the piano he'd somehow smuggled in. "Also, why am I composing 'The Ballad of Single Seungcheol' again?"

"Emotional impact," Seungkwan explained, practicing his dramatic slides across the floor. "We need background music for my monologue about dying alone."

"No one's dying alone," Joshua sighed, reviewing his crisis management notebook:

- Plan A: Direct confrontation

- Plan B: Emotional manipulation

- Plan C: Vernon's interpretive dance

- Plan Z: Release the embarrassing photos

Meanwhile, Mingyu and Minghao were strategically placing furniture.

"The chair needs to be exactly 45 degrees under the spotlight," Minghao insisted.

"We don't have a spotlight," Mingyu pointed out.

"VERNON!"

"On it!" Vernon appeared with a desk lamp and determination.

At the same time - Y/N's Clinic Break Room

"You need to date," Krissa, Y/N's coworker, declared while stealing her lunch. "When was the last time you went out?"

"I go out!" Y/N protested, thinking about her weekly grocery runs.

"The old lady with the hip replacement asking you to dinner with her grandson doesn't count."

"Mrs. Kim is sweet..."

"She's also convinced her grandson is the next president. He collects rubber ducks, Y/N. Rubber. Ducks."

6:30 PM - The Ambush Begins

Seungcheol was having a good day. He'd organized new training menus (color-coded by intensity), named his newest hockey stick ("Perseverance"), and only spent three hours analyzing game footage.

The first sign something was wrong: the lounge lights were off.

The second sign: Mingyu trying (failing) to hide his 6'2" frame behind a plant.

"What-"

"HYUNG!" Seungkwan's voice echoed dramatically. "Do you know what day it is?"

"...Thursday?"

"IT'S YOUR INTERVENTION!"

The lights flashed on. Seungcheol found himself surrounded by his teammates, each wearing matching black hoodies with "Code Red: The Captain NEEDS a GIRLFRIEND" printed in glittering letters.

"Are those... rhinestones?"

"Focus!" Jeonghan stepped forward. "Seungcheol-ah, we need to talk about your relationship with hockey."

"My perfectly normal-"

"YOU TRIED TO INSTALL AN ICE RINK IN YOUR APARTMENT!" DK interrupted.

"It was a small one-"

"Exhibit A!" Hoshi clicked to his first slide, featuring a pie chart of Seungcheol's daily activities:

- 60% Hockey

- 30% Thinking about hockey

- 9% Basic human needs

- 1% Everything else

"That's... not accurate?"

"Exhibit B!" Another slide: a photo series titled 'The Evolution of Our Captain's Dating Life' showing:

- 2019: Attempted to explain offside rules on first date

- 2020: Brought hockey stick to coffee shop

- 2021: Asked team manager for practice schedules during blind date

- 2022: "Is being married to hockey valid?"

Meanwhile - Y/N's Evening Commute

"Just download the app," Krissa had insisted, practically forcing Y/N's thumb onto the install button. "Trust the algorithm!"

Now, squished between a businessman and a grandmother on the subway, Y/N found herself mindlessly scrolling through profiles.

Too posed. Too filtered. Too... is that guy posing with a fish?

Then she saw it.

'Cheol, 26'

The first photo was clearly candid - a genuine smile, caught mid-laugh. Someone had badly edited out what looked like hockey gear in the background, leaving obvious white spaces.

The second photo: attempting to look serious but his eyes gave away suppressed laughter. More suspicious white spaces around him.

The third: clearly taken without his knowledge, feeding a stray cat.

Bio: "Just a guy who likes ice sports and dad jokes. My friends made me download this. They're currently holding my training menus hostage. Send help."

Y/N found herself smiling. There was something refreshingly honest about him.

Back at the Ambush...

"And THAT'S why penguins mate for life!" Hoshi concluded slide thirty-seven.

"What do penguins have to do with-" Seungcheol started.

"EVERYTHING!" Seungkwan was now lying dramatically across the floor. "Even flightless birds find love, hyung!"

"Woozi-hyung, music!" DK cued.

The opening notes of 'The Ballad of Single Seungcheol' filled the room, accompanied by Vernon's unexpected contemporary dance.

"When did he learn-" Seungcheol tried again.

"STOP DEFLECTING!" Jeonghan commanded. "Mingyu, the phone!"

"For our legs!" Mingyu declared, executing a perfect phone-grabbing maneuver.

"YAH!"

"Jun, Minghao, initiate synchronized intervention dance!"

"We have a dance?!" Minghao looked panicked.

"Improvise!"

- After 15 minutes of improvised dance, they managed to make Seungcheol agree in making a dating app profile: "Bio first," Wonwoo adjusted his glasses, phone in hand. "Interests?"

"Hockey!" Seungcheol offered from his chair, where he was being guarded by Mingyu and Jun.

"NO!" Eleven voices shouted.

"Put 'enjoys sports'," Joshua suggested diplomatically.

"And dad jokes," Jeonghan added. "He needs to warn them early."

"What about: 'Looking for someone to share ice cream with'?" Vernon suggested.

"That's... actually cute?" Woozi sounded surprised.

"Add 'good with kids'!" Hoshi insisted.

"I've never-"

"YOU LITERALLY TUCK US IN AFTER PRACTICE!" Seungkwan interrupted.

Photo Selection Committee:

"No hockey photos," Mingyu declared, scrolling through Seungcheol's gallery.

"That's 98% of my photos-"

"We know," Minghao sighed. "That's the problem."

"Oh! This one!" Dino pointed. "From team dinner!"

"Too many hockey players in frame," Joshua vetoed.

"We could edit them out?" Jun suggested.

"NO-" Seungcheol started.

"Wonwoo, your Photoshop skills!" Jeonghan commanded.

"On it."

"Is that... why is there a white blob where Mingyu was standing?"

"Artistic choice," Wonwoo muttered, concentrated.

Meanwhile - Y/N's Apartment

"You're overthinking," Krissa's voice came through the phone as Y/N stared at Cheol's profile.

"His friends clearly made this profile-"

"That's cute! It means he's not a player."

"But what if-"

"Y/N, I swear, if you don't swipe right-"

"His smile seems genuine..."

"SWIPE. RIGHT. NOW."

Back at the Ambush:

"And done!" Wonwoo announced. "Profile complete."

Seungcheol looked horrified at the final result:

Photos:

Team dinner (now with mysterious white blobs)

Feeding cat (only half-edited hockey stick visible)

Candid laugh (suspiciously cropped)

Bio: "Just a guy who enjoys sports, dad jokes, and ice cream. Good with kids (and teammates). My friends made me download this. They're currently holding my training menus hostage. Send help."

"It's... honest?" Joshua offered.

"Too honest," Seungcheol groaned.

"Now we wait-" Jeonghan started.

ping

Thirteen heads snapped toward the phone.

"Is that..." Dino peered closer.

"A MATCH!" Seungkwan actually collapsed.

"Someone check if he's breathing," Woozi muttered.

Y/N's profile lit up the screen.

Seungcheol felt his ears turn red as he read:

"Physical therapist who loves dogs, rainy days, and helping people recover. Looking for something genuine. Probably swiping through this while drinking coffee."

Her smile was warm, natural. No filters, no posed shots. Just... real.

"She's perfect!" Hoshi declared. "The stars-"

"If you say the stars align one more time-" Woozi threatened.

"But they do!"

"Quick, say something!" Mingyu urged.

"I can do this myself-"

"The last time you messaged someone, you sent hockey statistics," Jun reminded him.

"One time!"

"Three times," Joshua corrected, consulting his notes. "Four if we count the referee explanation."

Seungcheol looked at Y/N's profile again. Something about her eyes seemed kind, understanding. Before his teammates could interfere, he typed:

"Since you're a physical therapist, any advice for teammates who dramatically fall during interventions?"

Across Seoul, Y/N was curled up on her couch when the message came through. She laughed out loud, typing back:

"Depends. Was it a planned fall or genuine distress? In my professional opinion, dramatic interventions require proper falling technique."

In the team lounge:

"She has humor!" Seungkwan had revived just to faint again.

"And medical knowledge for your old joints!" Dino dodged another flying pillow.

"Mission status?" Jeonghan asked formally.

"Phase one..." Joshua consulted his notebook, "surprisingly successful?"

"Now what?" Vernon asked.

"Now," Jeonghan smiled mysteriously, "we begin Phase Two: Operation First Date."

"We have a Phase Two?" Woozi looked concerned.

"We have phases up to Z," Joshua showed his notebook.

"God help us all," Seungcheol muttered, but he was smiling at his phone.

Little did Y/N know that her simple right swipe had initiated not just a potential romance, but had inadvertently involved her in the chaos of thirteen hockey players' most ambitious mission yet.

And somewhere in the lounge, Hoshi was already preparing his "Why Tigers Make Great Wedding Mascots" presentation.

-

“How To Text While Twelve People Read Over Your Shoulder"

Team Lounge - 10 Minutes Post-Match

"Don't just stare at her message," Mingyu urged, practically draped over Seungcheol's shoulder.

"I'm thinking-"

"That's your problem!" Seungkwan had recovered enough to offer wisdom. "Less thinking, more heart!"

Seungcheol typed: "My teammate's falls are an art form. Years of practice-"

"NO SPORTS REFERENCES!" Twelve voices yelled.

Delete, delete, delete.

"Just be yourself," Joshua advised.

"But not too much yourself," Jeonghan added.

"What does that even mean?" Seungcheol groaned.

Meanwhile - Y/N's Apartment

"He's taking a while to respond," Y/N muttered, watching the typing bubble appear and disappear.

"Maybe he's nervous?" Krissa suggested through the phone.

"Or composing poetry," Y/N joked.

"Or being attacked by friends," Krissa laughed.

If only she knew.

Back at the Lounge:

"Okay, how about..." Seungcheol tried again.

"You have to match her energy!" Hoshi was now doing his tiger-energy dance.

"Stop pressuring him," Wonwoo adjusted his glasses. "Statistically, overthinking first messages leads to-"

"No statistics!" Jun covered his ears.

Finally, Seungcheol managed to type:

"Would you believe me if I said one teammate has a dedicated falling technique for every emotional situation? We're currently at 'betrayed by captain who won't date' level dramatics."

Send.

"OH MY GOD HE SENT IT-" Seungkwan started hyperventilating.

"Quick, everyone act natural!" DK suggested, immediately striking the most unnatural pose possible.

Y/N's response came quickly:

"😂 As a professional, I'd love to analyze these techniques. For medical purposes, of course. Does he take appointments?"

The lounge erupted:

"She's funny!" from Vernon.

"She used an emoji!" Dino noted.

"Medical purposes," Woozi smirked.

"RESPOND FASTER!" Mingyu shook Seungcheol.

Meanwhile, in another corner, Operation Phase Two was already underway:

"Gather round," Jeonghan whispered to his secret subcommittee. "We need to prepare for every possible first date scenario."

Joshua pulled out a new notebook labeled "First Date Contingency Plans A-Z":

Plan A: Coffee Shop

- Pros: Casual, easy escape

- Cons: Might talk about hockey

- Solution: Remove all sports channels from café TVs

Plan B: Dog Café

- Pros: Cute animals, natural conversation

- Cons: Seungcheol might be allergic

- Note: Test for allergies immediately

Plan C: Restaurant

- Pros: Traditional, romantic

- Cons: Too much pressure

- Solution: Have team occupy all surrounding tables

"Should we include Plan T for Tiger Zoo?" Hoshi asked hopefully.

"No."

Back to the main conversation:

Seungcheol: "He's currently booked solid with interventions, but I hear he's willing to demonstrate for medical professionals 😊"

Y/N: "How generous! Though I should warn you, my professional opinion might include prescribing more social interactions for certain hockey-focused captains 😉"

The lounge went silent.

"Did she just..." Vernon started.

"She figured out..." Mingyu gasped.

"A WOMAN OF INTELLIGENCE!" Seungkwan declared.

Seungcheol felt his ears redden but found himself smiling as he typed:

"Caught me. Though in my defense, my team's intervention included a PowerPoint about why penguins finding love means I should too."

Y/N's Apartment:

She was grinning at her phone, ignoring Krissa's demands for updates. There was something endearing about this clearly hockey-obsessed captain and his concerned teammates.

Y/N: "Penguins are quite romantic. Though I hope your team knows humans have slightly different courtship rituals. Slightly."

Team Lounge:

"Is this... flirting?" Dino whispered in awe.

"Taking notes," Joshua muttered, scribbling furiously.

"We should give them space," Woozi suggested sensibly.

Nobody moved.

"I meant that as a command," Woozi glared.

Still nobody moved.

Seungcheol, somehow managing to type despite twelve people breathing down his neck:

"Would you be interested in discussing these human courtship rituals over coffee? I promise no PowerPoints. Can't guarantee no dramatic teammates though."

The lounge held its breath.

Y/N: "I'd like that! Fair warning though - I might assess your teammate's falling technique from afar. Professional curiosity 😊"

"SHE SAID YES!" 

Chaos erupted:

- Seungkwan fainted (again)

- Hoshi began his victory tiger dance

- Vernon started his congratulatory rap

- Woozi contemplated early retirement

- Jeonghan's eyes gleamed with Phase Two possibilities

"Operation First Date begins now," Joshua announced formally.

"Can I just plan my own date?" Seungcheol tried.

The look of pity he received from twelve pairs of eyes was answer enough.

- "Operation First Date (Or Twelve Ways to Overcomplicate Coffee)"

The Pre-Date Strategy Meeting - 3 Days Before

"ATTENTION!" Jeonghan stood at a whiteboard, pointer in hand. The team lounge had been transformed into a tactical command center, complete with:

- Floor plans of every coffee shop in a 5-mile radius

- Weather forecasts for the next week

- A mysterious PowerPoint titled "Tiger Luck in Romance"

- Seungkwan's "Emergency Scenarios" binder

- Joshua's "Date Exit Strategies A-Z"

Seungcheol sat in the corner, wondering where it all went wrong.

"First," Jeonghan began, "location analysis."

Wonwoo stepped forward, pushing up his glasses:

"I've compiled data on 47 potential coffee shops based on:

- Ambient lighting

- Background music volume

- Table spacing for optimal conversation

- Distance from hockey-related establishments

- Escape route availability"

"It's just coffee," Seungcheol muttered.

"JUST COFFEE?!" Seungkwan clutched his chest. "This is your FUTURE!"

"Moving on," Jeonghan continued. "Mingyu, wardrobe report."

Mingyu unveiled a clothing rack that definitely wasn't in the lounge this morning.

"I've prepared three categories:

1. 'Casual but Make It Romantic'

2. 'Yes I'm a Hockey Captain but I Read Books Too'

3. 'Trust Me I Have Other Hobbies'"

"Are those my clothes?" Seungcheol squinted.

"No, these are better," Minghao replied, sorting through fabrics. "Your clothes all say 'I sleep in hockey gear.'"

Meanwhile - Y/N's Preparation

"Just wear something comfortable," Krissa suggested, watching Y/N tear through her closet.

"But what kind of comfortable? Coffee comfortable? First date comfortable? Meeting-a-hockey-captain comfortable?"

"Is that last one a category?"

"I'm making it one!"

Back at Strategy HQ:

"Conversation topics!" Joshua read from his notebook.

DK raised his hand. "What about-"

"No hockey," everyone chorused.

"But-"

"NO. HOCKEY."

Hoshi bounced up. "The stars say-"

"No horoscopes," Woozi interrupted.

"But the tigers-"

"Especially no tiger horoscopes."

Vernon, surprisingly practical: "Why don't you just... talk normally?"

The room fell silent. Everyone looked at Vernon like he'd suggested playing hockey blindfolded.

"Talk... normally?" Jeonghan tested the words.

"Like... without a script?" Jun looked concerned.

"Absolutely not," Seungkwan declared. "We need contingency plans!"

The Emergency Scenarios Binder appeared:

- Scenario 1: Awkward Silence

  Solution: Pre-planted conversation cards under sugar packets

- Scenario 2: Hockey Mention

  Solution: DK's emergency dance distraction

- Scenario 3: Rain

  Solution: Strategic umbrella placement by Jun

- Scenario 4: She Recognizes Surveillance Team

  Solution: Mingyu's "We're Filming a Documentary" cover story

"Surveillance team?!" Seungcheol stood up.

"Sit down," Jeonghan commanded. "We're not done with the scenarios."

"There's more?!"

"There's always more," Joshua said ominously, flipping to his notebook's section labeled 'Crisis Management'.

Dino raised his hand. "What about our positions?"

"Ah yes," Jeonghan pulled down a blueprint. "Operation Coffee Shop Placement":

- Wonwoo & Mingyu: Window seats, pretending to study

- Joshua & Jeonghan: Counter, monitoring drink orders

- Seungkwan & Vernon: Outside café, "casual" pedestrians

- Jun & Minghao: Corner table, fake art students

- Hoshi: Emergency tiger energy provider

- Woozi: Getaway driver

- DK & Dino: Backup dancers if needed

"Getaway driver?!" Seungcheol looked alarmed.

"You never know," Woozi shrugged.

"And I'll be monitoring everyone's positions through these," Hoshi proudly held up twelve earpieces.

"Absolutely not," Seungcheol stood again.

"You're right," Jeonghan nodded. "We need color-coded earpieces."

The Day Before - Final Preparations:

Text from Y/N: "Looking forward to tomorrow! Any preference for which café?"

The team lounge exploded into action:

- Wonwoo consulting his café spreadsheets

- Mingyu checking lighting angles

- Joshua reviewing escape routes

- Seungkwan practicing his "casual pedestrian" walk

- Hoshi doing good luck tiger dances

Seungcheol, somehow maintaining sanity: "How about Stone Street Café at 2?"

"THAT WASN'T ON THE APPROVED LIST!" Seungkwan screeched.

"Perfect timing and place!" Y/N replied.

"She's perfect," Hoshi whispered. "The tigers were right."

"The tigers weren't-" Woozi started, then gave up.

"Tomorrow then," Jeonghan announced dramatically, "Operation First Date begins."

"Can't wait! 😊" Y/N texted, blissfully unaware of the twelve-man tactical team she'd inadvertently invited to coffee.

- "Operation First Date (Or How Twelve Hockey Players Became Drama Addicts)"

D-Day: Stone Street Café

1:30 PM - Initial Positions

"Everyone remember their roles?" Jeonghan whispered into the earpiece.

"We could just... not do this," Woozi suggested from the getaway car.

"COMMITMENT!" Seungkwan adjusted his "casual pedestrian" beret.

1:45 PM - Target Sighting

"Eagle has landed," Vernon reported, watching Seungcheol approach. "He's... wait."

"Report!" Jeonghan demanded.

"He looks... good?"

Everyone peered through various windows and hiding spots. Their captain had somehow:

- Styled his hair naturally

- Worn the outfit they approved

- Arrived early

- Wasn't carrying any hockey equipment

"Did we enter an alternate universe?" Minghao whispered.

1:55 PM - Second Target

"Y/N approaching from the east," Mingyu reported from his "study" table. "She's..."

"She's?" Eleven voices asked.

"Wow."

Y/N walked up to the café, a simple sundress and genuine smile making their captain visibly malfunction.

"Oh no, he's frozen," Jun panicked.

"Deploy emergency-" Seungkwan started.

But then...

2:00 PM - The Shift

Seungcheol smiled - not his camera smile, not his captain smile, but something softer. He opened the door for her, and...

"Did you see that?" Joshua whispered.

"The way they both laughed at the same time?" Jeonghan was already invested.

"Shhh!" Dino hushed. "We can't hear!"

Inside the café:

"I honestly wasn't sure if you'd come alone," Y/N grinned, settling into her seat.

"What makes you think I did?" Seungcheol raised an eyebrow.

Y/N casually glanced around, spotting:

- Two very tall men aggressively pretending to study

- A pair of "art students" who hadn't touched their sketchbooks

- A beret-wearing individual walking past the window for the fifth time

"Just a hunch," she smiled.

In various hiding spots:

"She knows!" Vernon whispered.

"But she's not running," Wonwoo observed.

"Guys," Mingyu suddenly said, "look."

They watched as Seungcheol and Y/N fell into easy conversation. No emergency cards needed. No tiger horoscopes required. Just... natural.

2:30 PM - The Evolution

"Should we deploy conversation starter #7?" Seungkwan asked.

"Wait..." Jeonghan held up his hand, watching.

Inside:

"So," Y/N leaned forward, "tell me about hockey."

Twelve hearts stopped.

But instead of launching into statistics, Seungcheol said, "Only if you tell me about what made you choose physical therapy."

She lit up, and suddenly they were sharing stories, laughing, completely lost in their own world.

The Surveillance Team:

"Are we... watching a drama?" DK whispered.

"Quick, someone film this!" Hoshi was emotional.

"Already on it," Joshua had his phone out.

3:00 PM - The Realization

One by one, the earpieces went silent. The elaborate plans forgotten. Twelve hockey players found themselves completely invested in watching their captain just... be happy.

"They're perfect together," Seungkwan sniffled.

"The way she makes him laugh..." Dino observed.

"The way he actually listens..." Mingyu added.

"No one mention hockey once..." Woozi noted, now inside with popcorn(?).

4:00 PM - Mission Evolution

As Seungcheol and Y/N prepared to leave, plans for a second date already made, the team had completely abandoned their positions in favor of:

- Seungkwan and DK writing a musical about them

- Hoshi planning their wedding

- Joshua documenting everything for future generations

- Jeonghan already plotting "Operation Second Date"

- Mingyu and Vernon designing couple merchandise

- Minghao and Jun choreographing a congratulatory dance

- Wonwoo calculating their compatibility (98.7%)

- Dino learning wedding songs

- Woozi pretending he wasn't composing a love song

Outside the Café:

"Your friends are really invested," Y/N commented, watching various heads duck behind plants.

"I'm sorry about them," Seungcheol rubbed his neck.

"Don't be. It's sweet. Though..." she grinned, "they might want to work on their stealth skills. I don't think art students usually cry over other people's coffee dates."

They both looked at Seungkwan, who was openly weeping into his beret.

"Second date?" Seungcheol asked hopefully.

"Definitely. Maybe somewhere with less... audience?"

"IMPOSSIBLE!" came a chorus of whispers from various plants.

Later - Team Lounge:

"Mission status?" Jeonghan asked formally.

"Complete success," Joshua reported, still emotional.

"Better than success," Seungkwan declared. "It's true love!"

"It's one date," Woozi reminded them.

"But did you see how they LOOKED at each other?!" Hoshi was already preparing his "Why Tigers Make Perfect Ring Bearers" presentation.

"So..." Vernon asked what everyone was thinking, "Operation Second Date?"

Seungcheol, walking in: "No."

"But-"

"Absolutely not."

"We'll be subtle!" Mingyu promised.

"You cried into a textbook."

"Those were subtle tears!"

Y/N's Apartment:

"How was it?" Krissa demanded.

Y/N smiled, thinking of gentle eyes and genuine laughs, of twelve not-so-hidden supporters and one perfect afternoon.

"It was... unexpected. In the best way."

Her phone buzzed:

Seungcheol: "I apologize for my team. They're... enthusiastic."

Y/N: "They care about you. It's cute. Though I did wonder why one kept making tiger poses."

Seungcheol: "That's just Hoshi. Wait until you meet him properly."

Y/N: "Looking forward to it 😊"

Team Lounge:

"She said she's looking forward to meeting us!" Seungkwan announced to the group chat.

"FAMILY DINNER!" twelve voices decided.

"No," Seungcheol texted back.

"Too late," Jeonghan was already planning.

"Operation Family Dinner begins now!" Joshua declared.

"We're not calling it-" Woozi started.

"OPERATION FAMILY DINNER!" everyone chorused.

Seungcheol sighed, but he was smiling. Maybe their chaos had led to something perfect after all.

-

"The One Where Someone Actually Likes Hockey (And Him)"

Operation Family Dinner Prep - Team Lounge

"Ground rules," Jeonghan addressed the team. "No embarrassing stories-"

"There goes my PowerPoint," Seungkwan sighed.

"No tiger facts-"

"But-" Hoshi started.

"NO tiger facts, and absolutely no-"

"MISSION ACCOMPLISHED BANNER!" Mingyu and Vernon burst in, proudly displaying a giant banner reading "THANK YOU FOR LIKING OUR CAPTAIN"

"Take it down," Seungcheol groaned.

"But we used glitter!" Vernon protested.

Meanwhile - Y/N's Apartment

"Twelve hockey players," Krissa repeated. "You're having dinner with twelve hockey players."

"Plus Seungcheol," Y/N added, trying on her fifth outfit.

"The same twelve who stalked your coffee date?"

"They weren't stalking! They were... enthusiastically supporting."

The Dinner - 7 PM

Y/N arrived at the team's favorite restaurant to find:

- The banner (they didn't take it down)

- Seungkwan practicing his welcome speech

- Hoshi's "subtle" tiger decorations

- Twelve very excited hockey players

- One very apologetic Seungcheol

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "We can leave-"

"Are you kidding? This is adorable!"

The team collectively melted.

Dinner was in full swing when Seungcheol started explaining a particularly complex play. The twelve teammates watched in fascination, each processing this unprecedented scene differently:

Jeonghan's Corner: "I've seen him scare away five dates with hockey talk," he whispered to Joshua. "Six," Joshua corrected, still filming. "Remember the coffee shop girl who ran away during his penalty explanation?" "But look at Y/N..." They watched as she drew actual play diagrams on napkins. "Are we sure she's real?"

Hoshi & DK's Observation: "The way she gets excited when he gets excited," DK clutched his chest. "It's like watching a drama!" Hoshi wiped a tear. "Better than your tiger documentaries?" "Nothing's better than- OH MY GOD SHE JUST ASKED ABOUT GAME STRATEGIES!"

Mingyu to Wonwoo: "Remember when he tried explaining hockey to my sister?" "She blocked his number," Wonwoo nodded. "But Y/N just asked him to explain MORE." "Statistically impossible but... happening right in front of us."

Minghao noticed something: "Look at his hands," he whispered to Jun. "What about them?" "They're not doing the nervous thing. He's just... comfortable." Jun sniffled: "Our captain's growing up!"

Woozi's Mental Notes:

First date to survive hockey talk ✓

Actually understands offside rules ✓

Makes Seungcheol laugh naturally ✓

Might need to compose a love song after all

Seungkwan's Live Commentary to Vernon: "Did you see that? She just made a hockey joke!" "And he actually laughed-" "NOT THE POLITE LAUGH, VERNON. THE REAL ONE!" "Should you be taking notes this intensely?" "This is historical documentation!"

Dino, watching it all unfold: "Hyung looks... different." "Happy," everyone replied simultaneously.

The turning point came when Y/N casually mentioned:

"Oh, that reminds me of your game last month - the one where you adjusted the defensive formation mid-play? That was brilliant."

Seungcheol froze mid-explanation. "You... watched our old games?"

Y/N blushed slightly. "I might have done some research? I wanted to understand what you love about it. Plus," she grinned, "watching you lead your team is pretty attractive."

Several things happened at once:

Seungkwan choked on air

Jeonghan dropped his phone

Joshua caught it without looking (still filming)

Hoshi started doing tiny victory tiger paws

Mingyu and Minghao high-fived

Wonwoo's glasses fogged up

DK clutched Jun in emotional support

Vernon patted a crying Seungkwan

Woozi pretended he wasn't writing lyrics

Dino watched his hyungs lose their collective minds

But most importantly: Seungcheol looked at Y/N like she had just scored the winning goal in the championship game.

Later, during dessert:

"I have a confession," Y/N admitted to the table. "I might have noticed you all at the coffee shop."

"We were subtle!" Seungkwan protested.

"You cried into a plant."

"Those were subtle tears!"

"And the one doing tiger poses by the window..."

"That was for good luck!" Hoshi defended.

"And the two tall ones pretending to study..."

Mingyu and Wonwoo suddenly found the ceiling fascinating.

"...was actually really sweet. He's lucky to have people who care so much."

The team melted all over again.

"She understands us too," Jeonghan whispered reverently.

"ONE OF US!" Seungkwan declared.

"We're keeping her," Hoshi announced.

"That's not how it works-" Woozi started.

"Too late! Already adopted!" DK confirmed.

Y/N laughed, fitting perfectly into their chaos while her hand found Seungcheol's under the table.

Later that night, Team Group Chat (Minus Seungcheol):

Seungkwan: EMERGENCY MEETING Joshua: It's midnight Seungkwan: LOVE DOESN'T SLEEP Jeonghan: Operation Wedding Planning begins Woozi: It's been ONE dinner Hoshi: BUT DID YOU SEE THEM?! Mingyu: They're perfect 🥺 Vernon: The way she understood hockey... DK: The way he smiled... Jun: The way they looked at each other... Minghao: The way they just fit... Dino: So... Operation Wedding Planning? Wonwoo: sends spreadsheet 

Meanwhile, Seungcheol walking Y/N home:

"I'm sorry about them," he started.

"Don't be. They're wonderful. Chaotic, but wonderful."

"Like a hurricane of love," he laughed.

"With a tiger twist," she added.

He looked at her then, really looked at her, and thought maybe his team's crazy plans weren't so crazy after all.

- Something was definitely different about their captain. The first signs were subtle - arriving five minutes late to practice (unheard of), constant phone checking (suspicious), and most alarmingly, humming while setting up drills (miraculous). The team huddled at the corner of the rink, watching Seungcheol with a mixture of awe and disbelief as he smiled at his phone for the fifth time in ten minutes.

"I think we broke him," Seungkwan whispered, clutching Vernon's arm. "Our plan worked too well."

Two months into dating Y/N, and their strict, hockey-obsessed captain had transformed into someone who said things like "the ice understands love" with complete seriousness. The man who once made them repeat a play 47 times now ended practice early because "the lighting at the coffee shop is perfect at 4 PM."

The real shock came during their morning practice. Seungcheol, still typing on his phone with a soft smile, casually announced, "No Sunday practice this week." The rink fell silent. Twelve pairs of eyes stared at their captain as if he'd just declared he was quitting hockey to become a tiger trainer (much to Hoshi's disappointment, he wasn't).

"Why?" Jeonghan dared to ask, though they all knew the answer. Their captain's ears turned that telling shade of red as he mumbled something about Y/N planning something special.

"WHIPPED!" Seungkwan coughed not-so-subtly, earning a half-hearted glare from their leader. The fact that he didn't assign extra laps for the comment only proved the point.

Meanwhile, across town at the physical therapy clinic, Y/N was having a similar effect on her workplace. Her colleagues had grown used to her sudden laughs at hockey memes ("He explains the rules so passionately!"), her lunch breaks extending whenever a certain captain dropped by ("Just five more minutes, he's explaining a new play"), and the way she lit up every time her phone buzzed.

"You actually enjoy his hockey talks," Krissa observed with amazement during their break. "Like, genuinely enjoy them."

Y/N smiled, remembering how Seungcheol's eyes sparkled when she asked about his game strategies. "He's cute when he's excited about it. Besides," she added, checking her phone where Seungcheol had sent a detailed analysis of their morning practice, complete with heart emojis, "his passion is attractive."

Back at the rink, the team was experiencing the full effects of their captain's transformation. Team meetings that once ran for hours now ended with "Any questions? No? Great, I have a date." Their notorious extended cool-downs had shortened considerably because "Y/N found this great lunch spot."

"Remember when he made us sleep at the rink before big games?" Jun whispered to Minghao during water break, watching their captain practically skip while texting.

"Now he leaves early because 'Y/N might get cold waiting,'" Minghao mimicked, though his smile was fond.

The team often found themselves "accidentally" having lunch near Y/N's clinic, watching their captain transform from fierce hockey leader to soft boyfriend in seconds. He'd arrive with her favorite coffee and snacks, his whole demeanor changing at the sight of her smile.

"It's actually kind of beautiful," Seungkwan sniffled, watching through the café window as Seungcheol forgot about his beloved hockey for a full minute, just staring at Y/N like she hung the stars.

"Disgusting," Woozi corrected, but he was already composing what he'd never admit was a love song.

"Remember our mission?" Jeonghan mused, watching their captain laugh at something Y/N said. "Get Seungcheol a girlfriend because we're afraid he's gonna be more strict with practice?"

"Mission accomplished?" Joshua suggested, still filming everything for their future wedding video.

"Better than accomplished," Mingyu grinned, pointing at their captain who was now excitedly explaining a play with sugar packets while Y/N watched with genuine interest. "We got him a girlfriend who actually likes hockey."

"And him," Vernon added importantly.

"The tigers blessed us," Hoshi declared solemnly.

For once, no one argued with the tiger agenda. They were too busy watching their captain being happy, finally having found someone who loved both his passion and him, hockey statistics and all.

- It became their thing - late evening walks after his practice and her clinic hours, usually ending up at the quiet café near the rink. Tonight, Seungcheol watched as Y/N drew little stick figures on a napkin, seriously explaining how his last play could be modified. The café owner, used to their presence, had long stopped asking if they wanted refills, just quietly placing fresh cups of coffee at their table.

"See, if you shift this position slightly," Y/N pointed with her pen, completely focused, "it might give you better coverage on the left side." She looked up to find him staring at her with that soft expression he seemed to reserve just for these moments. "What?"

"Nothing," he smiled, reaching across to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Just... do you know you scrunch your nose when you're really focused on explaining something?"

"Says the one who gets excited sparkles in his eyes when talking about new practice drills," she teased back, catching his hand and intertwining their fingers.

These quiet moments were theirs, away from twelve enthusiastic supporters (who they both knew were probably somewhere nearby, with Seungkwan likely crying into Joshua's shoulder about 'true love'). Here, they could just be Seungcheol and Y/N - not the hockey captain and the physical therapist, just two people who found each other through a chaotic intervention and some badly edited dating app photos.

"I never thanked them properly," Y/N mused, playing with his fingers.

"The team? Pretty sure they consider you letting Hoshi explain tiger love compatibility at dinner last week as thanks enough."

She laughed, remembering how seriously Hoshi had presented his PowerPoint while the others tried (failed) to stop him. "Not just for that. For caring about you enough to stage that whole intervention. For being so invested in your happiness that they turned into part-time spies."

"Terrible spies," Seungcheol corrected, thinking of Mingyu's failed attempts at stealth despite his height, and Seungkwan's dramatic crying behind plants. "But yeah, they're... special."

"Your family," she smiled softly.

"Our family now," he corrected, then blushed at his own boldness. "I mean, if you want- they've kind of already adopted you- but no pressure-"

She stopped his rambling with a gentle squeeze of his hand. "I'd love that. Though I should warn you, I might enable your hockey obsession more than they'd like."

"You mean you'll actually listen to my game analysis?"

"I already do that."

"And watch practice sometimes?"

"Already planning to."

"And not run away when I name my hockey sticks?"

"As long as you don't name them all after me," she teased.

His ears turned red. "About that..."

"Cheol! How many?"

"Just the new one! And maybe the backup one. And possibly the special game day one..."

Her laughter filled the café, and Seungcheol thought about how perfectly she fit into his life - into their lives. How she understood not just his passion for hockey, but also his need to take care of twelve chaotic teammates. How she'd become part of their family so naturally, like she was always meant to be there.

"Hey," he said softly, making her look up from where she was still drawing play diagrams. "I love you."

It wasn't the first time he'd said it, but it still made her heart skip just like it did that first time (when he blurted it out after she attended his game and actually understood why a particular play was brilliant).

"I love you too," she smiled, "hockey obsession and all."

"And the twelve-man emotional support team that comes with it?"

"Especially them. Though..." she glanced at the window where several suspicious plants seemed to have gathered, "they might need some work on their stealth skills."

Outside, they could faintly hear Seungkwan's emotional "They're so perfect!" followed by multiple shushes and what sounded like Woozi dragging him away.

Seungcheol just smiled, squeezing her hand. Let them watch. Let them see that sometimes the craziest plans work out perfectly. Let them witness that yes, someone could love both hockey and him, statistics and all.

And if their next date happened to be watching game footage while Y/N pointed out defensive patterns and Seungcheol fell more in love with every observation, well... that was just their kind of perfect.

[In the group chat later that night] Seungkwan: THEY'RE SO IN LOVE 😭 Jeonghan: Mission Accomplished ✓ Hoshi: The tigers blessed this union 🐯 Woozi: Stop watching them on dates Joshua: But the wedding video... DK: They're literally perfect??? Mingyu: Hyung named THREE sticks after her Vernon: Whipped culture Jun: Worth all the spy training Minghao: We did that Wonwoo: Statistically impossible but real Dino: So... Mission Possible: Wedding? All: MISSION POSSIBLE: WEDDING!

[puckinghischier]

thinking about comforting nico during this weird playing period.. he comes home upset and frustrated with not only the team but with himself.

he’d be so mopey, just kind of dragging around, not really saying much. mumbled answers to your questions, saying he’s not hungry, no input on what to watch. he’d kind of just go lay in your shared bedroom, headphones-in-and-staring-at-the-wall, kind of mopey.

you’d pad softly into the room, knowing you had to bust him out of the slump somehow. he had every right to be frustrated and upset, but you hated seeing your bright boy so down and dark.

he’d have his head leaned back with his eyes closed, legs stretched out in front of him with his hands resting clasped on his stomach. you softly crawl onto the bed to sit cross-legged beside of him. you poke at his soft belly a few times to get his attention.

peeking one eye open, he raises his head and removes one ear bud.

“what’s up?” he flatly asks, so unlike himself.

you smile at his fuzzy hair, his lack of properly drying it before slipping a beanie over it to leave the rink evident.

“let’s go for a drive,” you propose.

he scrunches his nose up at your suggestion, not interested in the slightest at getting back out into the cold air and riding around the city he keeps disappointing.

“not really in the mood,” he shakes his head, going to put the bud back in his ear until you grab his arm.

“please?” you give him your pouty eyes, hoping they’ll work now just like they do every other time.

reluctantly he agrees, tossing a sweatshirt on and covering his messy hair with a hat.

you bundle up yourself, slipping on a pair of comfy shoes before meeting him at the door, his hand reaching for the keys resting on the hook on the wall.

your hand beats his, though, grabbing his car keys before he can.

“you’re passenger princess tonight, bud”

he rolls his eyes, holding open the door so your smug self can walk out, making your way down to the drafty parking garage and seating yourself in the drivers seat of his lush mercedes.

pulling out of the garage, you turn the radio on to play whatever he was listening to last, some swiss rap you couldn’t understand the words to playing softly through the speakers. nico isn’t talking, just looking at the various lights and buildings as you drive through the quiet city.

most of the traffic from the game is already dispersed, giving you an easy ride to the mystery destination you didn’t tell him about.

you half expect him to figure it out based on your pattern of turns and familiar surroundings, but he must really be in his head, because when you park his car on the street outside of your destination, he’s still staring, unaware that the car even stopped moving.

“hey, neeks, come back to me,” you softly touch his arm, startling him a bit.

he looks over at you, almost like he forgot where he was, relaxing once his brain registered there was no threat. just you, looking over at him sweetly, as you always do.

“sorry, got lost thinking,” he mumbles, a little embarrassed. you smile at his accent shining on “thinking”, the subtle slip of his lips when pronouncing the word one of your favorite things about him

“s’alright. we’re here, though, so we gotta get out of the car.”

his thick eyebrows furrow in confusion, turning to look out the window to figure out where “here” is.

once he sees the familiar logo on the building right next to your parking spot, he looks back over at you.

“are they even still open?” he asks you, his tone lifting in a hopeful tone you haven’t heard for days.

you shake your head yes, trying not to grin like an idiot as his small show of excitement. “called them before we left, asked if they’d stay open a little bit longer for a special customer.”

the small, swiss owned bakery was somewhere you and nico had found on one of his few days off, simply setting out to explore the city with no plan in mind. on your lengthy walk, the sky had unexpectedly opened up, drenching both of you to your core. you ran into the closest storefront you could find, needing cover from the downpour.

the second your soaked figures trampled into the store, you were met with some of the most delicious smells you’d ever encountered in your life. the small space was empty, other than a plump older woman cleaning a display case of some of the most delicious looking pastries you’d ever seen.

“oh je!” the woman exclaimed when she saw the state of the two of you.

you thought the expression has sounded familiar, but couldn’t place it before she started speaking again.

“oh you poor kids, please, come sit, let me get you something to dry yourself,” the woman insisted, pulling out a couple of chairs at a small table, rushing off to find something dry to give you.

you heard her voice conversing with someone, a language you definitely had heard before, while you took your seat in the wooden chair.

she came back out to the two of you with warm dish towels, allowing you to at least rid your face of the excess water. nico was eyeing her suspiciously as she was bumbling about her husband making both of you a hot tea and something warm to snack on with it.

when he started speaking swiss german to her, you had no clue what was being said, but you loved the way he melted into being able to use his native language with someone who understood him and spoke it back. a tall, thin old man came out of seemingly nowhere in the middle of their conversation, two mugs of tea in hand.

the older man joined right in their conversation, his kind face just as excited as nico seemed to be.

the two of you ended up sitting in the small bakery for longer than anticipated, the rain long gone before you made your exit. the conversation had eventually switched back to english, the woman explaining how they had moved to the states many years ago, their dream of owning a bakery in the city finally coming to fruition a couple of years ago.

nico was amazed at the selection of swiss desserts they had, and praised their recipes as being reminiscent of his mothers. the couple insisted you take a whole hoard of stuff home, wanting nico to have a piece of home to enjoy.

the hidden gem ended up being a frequent weekend destination for you and nico, making a visit at least once a week when he’s home. the shop was so small and off the beaten path that nico never had to worry about someone spotting him there, going and sitting and conversing with his new friends for hours as you sat and watched their animated conversations.

you even found yourself frequenting the bakery on your own when nico was gone for any length of time, needing your own pastry fix. always being welcomed with open arms, you never left without a special pastry just for nico to have when he returned home.

which is what lead you here tonight, wanting to bring him even the smallest bit of comfort you could.

“schätz, did you really?” he uses the term of endearment you loved the most, having heard the shop owner utter it to his wife several times during your visits. “you shouldn’t have, they need their rest.”

you roll your eyes at his insistence on never wanting someone go to any extra lengths for him. he never wants anyone to be inconvenienced for his sake, even during times like these when he deserves to be made to feel special.

“hush, they insisted on it. you know how they are, too stubborn for their own good,” you wave off his concern, the concerned tone of the woman fresh in your mind when you called and explained the situation. “they even told me they were making something extra special for you tonight, so i hope you’re hungry after all that skating.”

nico doesn’t react to your words, staring at you so intently you were beginning to squirm at the gaze.

sensing your shift in body language, nico breaks the loud silence of the car.

“i love you, you know that?”

you giggled at his words, because of course you know that. he tells you all the time. every day. as often as he can.

“yes, neeks, i know that. and i love you too.”

he shakes his head slightly.

“no, i mean it. i love you so much. you…you always know what to do when i’m being a pouty mess. you never fail to make me feel better by just being you, but when you do things like this, even though i’ve been closed off and pouty this whole week because of the team and how our game is right now, even when i don’t deserve it, you still always manage to know exactly what i need.”

he grabs your hand in the middle of his small speech, needing to touch you so you can feel his words and his sentiments.

“well, you do deserve this. you always do. especially with how things have been going for you lately, because you’re giving it your all, always. and i’m proud of you. win or lose, i’m so proud of you, nico.”

you squeeze his hand in yours, emphasizing your point.

nico can’t stand how far away you are from him all of a sudden, reaching over and pulling your face across the console to meet his, consuming himself in you. the feeling of your lips on his melts away any thought in his head about his job and is filled with only you. the taste of your fruity chapstick, the softness of your face in his hands, the smell of your perfume still left over from earlier.

he tries to tease your lips open with a swipe of his tongue, but you give a small laugh as you pull yourself back.

“alright now, can’t be doing all that, now. you’ve got a hot, home cooked swiss meal waiting on you i promised some very eager people you’d be by to try ten minutes ago. don’t want them to think we flaked, do you?”

“oh god, i hope it’s traditional fondue,” he groans at the idea. “i’m sorry, baby, but this american version is shit, and i can’t pretend to like it anymore,” he completely switches up on you, taken over by the thought of food, completely unaware you’d already expressed to the owners how it was his favorite, a hot pot of the cheesy dish awaiting him behind the door he’s speeding towards.

[wordsmeetwbb]

One shot/drabble of p being obsessed with azzi's body (is p a boob or ass girl..)

Inspired by this post of p just straight up looking 😩

https://www.tumblr.com/paigebucketss/773164320108445696/lmaooo-paige-been-on-that?source=share

Stare

Word count: 770

Content: Fluff, kind of suggestive

Pairing: Pazzi

Notes: Just a short little something for y'all today :)

________

Paige couldn’t stop staring at Azzi’s ass, and everyone except for the woman in question had noticed. KK had already hit Paige twice when she saw her eyes wandering in not-so-family-friendly directions.

“Dude, please get a grip. I don’t need to see you look at my mom like that,” KK complained as she forcefully turned Paige away from Azzi.

“What’s your problem? I’m not allowed to look at my girlfriend?” Paige protested. KK scoffed.

“You call that ‘looking’? I call that eye-fucking. control yourself and have some respect for your children.” Paige could feel her cheeks warm. She pushed KK away. Even as she did, her eyes slid back to Azzi. They first dragged over her face, skin glowing as always, and a soft smile settled on her full lips. Then her eyes wandered right back down to her ass.

Azzi was wearing simple black leggings today, which was pretty typical, but she had paired them with a cropped shirt so no curve of her body was hidden from view. The slight arch of her back, the curve of her hips, the swell of her ass in those tight black pants… Paige swallowed. She was so fucked.

Azzi glanced over at Paige from where she was talking to Carol in the kitchen. Paige wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for the shift of her body that drew her eyes back up to her girlfriend’s face. Azzi raised her eyebrows as if to ask “What?” Paige smirked back at her. Azzi’s face scrunched in confusion, eyes flicking over to look at KK for answers.

“Girl, don’t look at me! Ask Paigey why she can’t stop staring at you!” KK exclaimed. This drew the attention of their other teammates. Azzi’s eyebrows arched once again and Paige wanted to bury her face in her hands just to avoid the embarrassment. She didn’t, though, as much as it would have been nice to not have all of her teammates see the blush on her face.

“What is everybody’s problem with me appreciating how good my girl looks, huh?” Paige asked defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. Azzi’s mouth broke into a grin.

“Because none of us want to see that! Y’all need to be gross in private!” KK said petulantly.

“Yeah, Paige, the way you look at her is really not appropriate for us all to see,” Aubrey agreed. Paige’s eyes darted around at the rest of her team, feeling absolutely betrayed.

“Okay, but she looks good!” Paige argued.

“I don’t have a problem with you looking at me,” Azzi supplied helpfully.

“Thank you!” Paige exclaimed, completely exasperated.

“None of us care what you think, Azzi,” Ice cut in. Paige groaned.

“My own children are betraying me,” she whined. Her eyes flicked up to Azzi and found that soft smile back on her lips. Paige pushed herself off the couch and marched over to Azzi, grabbing her hand and leading her to the door of the apartment.

“If y’all are just gonna bully us, we’re leaving,” she announced, pulling the door open and turning in the direction of Azzi’s apartment.

“We’re just bullying you, not Azzi!” Jana called after them as the door shut. Paige’s grip tightened on Azzi’s hand.

“They’re right,” Azzi said softly as Paige pushed the door to the apartment open.

“So what? I’m allowed to look at my girl, especially when you look as good as you do today!” Paige defended. Azzi tugged her hands free from Paige’s and brought them up to cup her face. The warmth of her skin immediately calmed Paige.

“I know, honey, but the girls don’t wanna see you stare at my ass,” Azzi soothed, fingers brushing over Paige’s jawline.

“But you have such a nice ass,” Paige whined, hands drifting down Azzi’s back to settle right on the curve of her hips, squeezing the flesh slightly. Azzi let out a soft breath.

“How about this- we’re gonna go lay on the couch and watch a movie, and you can touch my ass the whole time, and then you’re gonna agree to keep your staring to private occasions only, okay?” Azzi bargained, pushing her hips further into Paige’s grip. Paige let her hands drift a little bit lower, trying to get as much of the supple flesh in her palms as she could.

“Okay,” she mumbled, thoroughly distracted. Azzi smiled.

“Does that sound like a deal to you?” She asked. Paige’s brain was already so far out of her body from the feel of Azzi’s body in her hands that she just let her head drop to Azzi’s neck.

“Mhmm. Yeah, deal.”

[grandline-fics]

Hello! I just found your blog and I am reading everything that you have (while working🤐)

I have to say I am in love with your writing. You are amazing, can't put the phone down.

I would love to be in the tag list for everything that you will write in the future.

Also if you don't mind can I ask for the Promp "Conforting Kisses" where the reader had a nightmare of the getting badly hurt and they give them kisses to forget maybe?

If you can do it for Luffy, Ace and Shanks I will be thankful for ever. If you don't want to write it is okey💕

Hope you have a great day! 💕

Thank you again for writing💕💖

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Comforting Kisses

WARNINGS:  descriptions of injury, mentions of death. slight angst. hurt to comfort

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Shanks

WORDS: 1,340

A/N: Thank you so much for your support and this request! I made a mistake and mis-read it to think you wanted the reader to do the comforting. I also only managed to get something for Luffy and Shanks for this but I hope this is still to your liking and you enjoy how it turned out.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

LUFFY

He was so much stronger than he had been when you first met and joined him on the crew. Luffy had spent two years under Rayleigh’s instruction to ensure he’d never lose anyone else close to him again. So now why was he staring in horror, completely helpless and unable to intervene as you were overwhelmed by multiple heavy hitting opponents he’d defeated in the past. Each one got hit after hit on you, ignoring Luffy’s yells for them to leave you alone. As strong as a fighter as you were normally you were no match against these monsters striking all at once. You didn’t even seem to notice Luffy as he screamed and struggled to get to you. The Captain could only watch as your attackers fell back into shadows while you fell to your knees as a wave of Magellan’s poison and Akainu’s magma came crashing over you.

Luffy awoke with a shuddering gasp, limbs locked tightly and body trembling as the cold sweat broke over his skin. With every rapid breath he took, the images he’d just detached himself from flashed in his mind in the dark. Every desperate gulp of air just brought more of a panic, drawing him back to the darkest, lowest point in his life when he’d realised he was weak and couldn’t save his brother. What would he do if he lost you? Before a new panic could set in, he caught the sound of soft footsteps approaching. Immediately he was out of bed and approaching the door, opening it before you could even knock. “Oh, couldn’t sleep either Lu-”

Before you could finish your question, Luffy had his arms out like a shot and pulled you against him. Laying his head against your chest the sound of your heartbeat finally began to ground him, rooting him in reality and not the horrible nightmare that still clung to him. You’d initially tensed at the hug Luffy drew you into, not because of it being unexpected-it wasn’t given how affectionate he was with everyone-but because of how timid he seemed. This wasn’t a usual Luffy hug, filled with warmth and happiness. As you wrapped your arms around his shoulders you could feel the tremor in his frame and took note of how every so often his arms would try to pull you closer. Angling one hand you settled your finger’s against the back of his head, moving in gentle motions to help him relax from whatever nightmare he’d clearly had. 

Lightly you pressed a kiss against the top of Luffy’s head, a small smile tugging at your lips when Luffy slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze. It was reassuring to see he seemed more himself albeit still a little shaken. “Can you do that again? Felt nice.”

“Sure.” Leaning forward you pressed a longer but just as gentle kiss against his forehead, your smile growing to hear and feel Luffy’s body relax from the comforting action. You pulled back to watch him carefully. “Ready to go back to bed? I can stay with you if it helps.”

Unsurprisingly Luffy’s gaze hardened at the suggestion. He was tired, he wasn’t going to lie but at the same time he hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to have that nightmare all over against your offer of staying helped him greatly. 

Together you moved back into Luffy’s room and lay down in the bed. Taking naps with Luffy was never anything new but since starting a relationship with him this was the first time you were going to spend the night in his bed. As much as you didn't like the circumstances that led to this but you couldn’t deny how right it felt to lie in Luffy’s arms, pressing comforting kisses against his head as he fell asleep to keep his nightmares away. 

SHANKS

Shanks knew this image well. Loguetown’s town square filled to the brim of people, their heads turned towards the towering execution block and awaiting the procession to appear on the top podium. Overhead thick grey clouds quickly swept in and darkened the clear morning, rain falling heavily as the winds began to shriek. Shanks lifted his arm to shield his eyes, his gaze firmly on the Marines who appeared. Your name was shouted out for the audience to hear and immediately Shanks’ body froze when the two Marines stepped aside and you were roughly shoved onto your knees. 

Your body looked so frail and small on top of the execution block. Even from where he stood he could see the bruises and cuts against your body as you knelt, hands held firmly by the heavy iron shackles and chains. Shanks quickly began to push through the crowd, trying to get to you but for every person he moved out of his way more replaced them. No, this couldn’t be happening. While the two Marines drew their weapons in preparation of what was to come, another stepped forward to begin calling out the charges. 

“You have been found guilty for aiding and abetting, harbouring, and consorting with known Pirate Emperor Red Hair Shanks on multiple accounts spanning years. For this clear defection of the World Government’s rule and repeated alliance with dangerous criminals we can only treat you as a pirate and deem only one punishment is suitable; death.” Over the pelting rain and thunder, Shank’s yell for you was swallowed and you defeatedly hung your head. Your eyes slid closed as you waiting the swinging of the blades, arcing straight for you. 

Shanks woke sharply, a deep pit of ice twisting painfully in his stomach as his heart thundered loudly in his ears. It was so incredibly rare for Shanks to feel powerless or weak, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a nightmare and any that came to mind paled in comparison to what he’d just seen. He’d never allow any harm to come to you, in all the years he’d known you and loved you he’d made sure the Marines and any pirate rivals he had knew nothing about you. Glancing down he saw you sleeping peacefully against his chest. Logic told him you were fine, you were safe. He could feel your warmth and feel your soft breath against his skin but still it couldn’t replace the images of your beaten body about to be put to death. 

Knowing it was irrational and stupid, he couldn’t help himself. Lightly he spoke your name and gently shook your shoulder. Immediately you stirred, a hum of sleep thickened confusion breaking from your lips. Shifting so you were on your stomach you blinked through the haze and looked to Shanks in sleepy concern, knowing he’d never wake you unless it was necessary. “Shanks? What’s wrong?”

“Sorry love, really I am.” Shanks explained softly, letting his fingers gently move in soothing patterns against your skin. Seeing you awake and hearing your voice already doing wonders to dispel the hurt his subconsciousness had created. “Had a bad nightmare. Just needed you.”

Immediately your gaze sharpened enough and you nodded in understanding. It wasn’t often but anytime you had a nightmare and Shanks was there he’d wake and be there with you until you’d calmed. Now it was your turn. 

Slowly you pulled yourself up and inched closer. With a feather-light touch you pushed the stray strands of red hair from his face before caressing his jaw. Leaning in you pressed sweet, caring kisses against his face. You started at his eyes, paying close attention to his scars before moving to his temple, then the bridge of his nose, his cheeks before finally settling your lips against Shanks’ pulling him into a deep, tender kiss, clearing the remnants of his nightmare away. Breaking apart you lay your forehead against Shanks’, smiling when he lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing your wrist, a clear sign he was becoming more like his usual self. “When the crew and I leave this time, you want to come with me?”

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut , @irumawife , @laidenbreecatchall

[kaynanarie]

Eyes of Gold (Part 11)

(A WukongxReader story inspired by Beauty and the Beast and Lutung Kasarung.) (First) (Prev)

            An awed silence fell over the crowd as they took in the immortal might of Sun Wukong himself. While you felt nothing but sheer relief at the sight, the demons’ reactions were much different. Some turned tail and ran while others lingered, shocked and whispering in nervous tones. But no one dared approach the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.

            The bull, while surprised, was not as intimidated as his underlings. He stood slowly, hands still bound by the glowing hair. “Monkey King, I didn’t expect to see you here,” he growled in a thinly veiled question.

           “Bull Demon King,” Sun Wukong greeted with a tilt of his head. “I heard there was some commotion happening outside my mountain and came to see for myself.”

            His tone was casual, even a little curious. You couldn’t see his face, only his back where he stood between you and the bull demon, but you had been around enough monkeys to quickly read his mood. The fur bristling on his neck and the lashing of his tail were evident to his barely contained rage.

            “I’m here on behalf of the wolf pack,” Bull Demon King answered, gesturing to the two on the sidelines. “They claimed a human was responsible for their captain’s death and begged me to seek justice on their behalf.”

            When the Monkey King glanced their way, the wolves yelped and cowered behind their comrades. “These two? I don’t suppose they also mentioned how they trespassed on my mountain, terrorized my kin, attacked my royal guest, resisted capture, and fled when their captain tried to fight and lost?” He let out a humorless chuckle. “So much for wolf-clan loyalty.”

            Bull Demon King snapped his attention to the wolves, shock and outrage clear even with his bovine features. “Is this true?”

            Trembling, both wolves fell to their knees with bowed heads. “It’s true, Venerable Great King. We were only passing through when we saw the human. We had no idea they were of any importance!”

           “That’s a lie!” you spoke up, too insulted to stay silent. “I told you I was a guest of the Monkey King and you mocked me!”

            The hunched wolf growled, “Why you…!” but flinched when both demon kings pinned him with a warning glare.

            “Then the wolves are at fault,” Sun Wukong concluded as he turned back to the bull, “And have no one to blame but themselves for their transgression.”

            Bull Demon King nodded, still staring down the guilty wolves. “The human is innocent so the claim on their life is forfeit. I will have no further dealings with them or the wolf clan.”

            “Wonderful to hear.” The tense stance relaxed and Sun Wukong casually slung his weapon across his shoulders. “You may all leave the village without further incident, then.”

            “Unfortunately, Monkey King…” The bull snorted in defiance as he looked down on the shorter demon. “We will be going nowhere. I have already negotiated the surrender of this village and will have my promised dues. Whether you choose to stay or leave is not my concern.”

            The irritated tail whips returned while the rest of the monkey stood still as stone, head cocked in ominous thought. “That is unfortunate,” he murmured after a moment. “You see, this village is already under my protection. So, unless you plan to challenge me for it,” Sun Wukong spun his staff, pointing the golden tip in warning. “I suggest you take your little horde here and leave.”

            Bull Demon King snarled in outrage. “You dare to order me?” Steam billowed from the bull’s flared nostrils while his hooves stamped the ground. “Perhaps I’ll claim this village and take your precious mountain next!”

             A flash of red-gold eyes met yours over Monkey King’s shoulder. “Run, get to safety,” he ordered. The bellows of the enraged bull demon reclaimed his attention. Turning away, he braced himself for combat. “Go, now!”

            You did as you were told, scrambling to your feet and hurrying out of the way. What remained of the demon crowd also scattered, abandoning their leader and village conquest in a panicky retreat. Soon, only the Bull Demon King and the Monkey King were left standing on the once crowded street. Sheltering behind a still-standing house, you peeked around the corner to watch the fight from a safe distance.

            Growling and stomping the ground, the bull demon lowered his head and charged with a shout. But Monkey King didn’t move, not even a flinch, as the sharp horns sped towards him. He only waited until his opponent drew closer to thrust his staff out. The golden end drove against Bull Demon King’s brow and lurched him to a sudden stop.

            You had heard the stories of Sun Wukong’s great strength and battle prowess; the impossible weight of his weapon, countless battles against gods and demons alike, and his stubbornness in the face of insurmountable odds. Seeing it with your own eyes was something else entirely. He easily wielded thousands of pounds of iron and halted the stampeding bull with only one hand. It was incredible, terrifying even; and you were never more grateful to be under his protection.

            The bull heaved and dug in his hooves, shoving his weight forward with huffs and growls. But the Monkey King was unmoved, solid as a statue as he held the other demon in place. With a single thrust, he flung Bull Demon King back down the street with an earthshaking crash.

            “Enough, Brother,” Sun Wukong said, planting the end of his staff on the ground. “Leave this village in peace and end this fight now.”

            Bull Demon King stumbled to his feet, hands still bound and eyes blazing. “You are no brother of mine!” he roared.

            A silence followed the echoes as both demon kings stared each other down. In a tone weighed heavy with regret, the Monkey King sighed, “So be it.” He raised one hand, muttering something under his breath before speaking up. “I’ve bested you before and I’ll do it again if I must.”

            Before the bull could prepare another charge, the golden hair began to glow again. A thread broke away from his wrist and coiled around his legs, tangling his ankles together and sending him tumbling to the ground. Another strand wrapped around his horns, yanking his chin down to his chest and completely binding him. No matter how much he squirmed and thrashed, the ties refused to release him.

            Sun Wukong approached the downed bull demon, staff hung over his shoulders and tail swishing with each strut. He crouched just shy of the sharp horns, tilting his head curiously. “What say you now, Bull Demon King?”

            With a final snort, the bull demon slumped in defeat. “We’ll leave. Let me lead my soldiers out of here and there will be no more quarrel.”

             Nodding, the monkey stood and waved his hand. The threads binding Bull Demon King fell away, leaving him free to stand. In a final golden glow, the single strand of fur floated through the air and into Sun Wukong’s waiting palm. “I’ll escort your demons from the village. Nothing is to be taken and no humans are to be harmed. Understood?”

            “Fine.” The bull demon glanced to his men still lingering about. “Gather our troops! Leave everything and harm none; any who disobey will answer to me!”

            They nodded, dropping their weapons in surrender. More demons appeared from the ruined buildings; some scowling, some nervous, but none eager to argue under the glares of the two demon kings. Soon, dozens of demons were crowded on the street, awaiting further orders.

            Despite the fresh sting of defeat, the bull held his head high as he stood before his men. “We march west! No stopping until we return home!”

            “Yes, Venerable Great King!” the crowd shouted. They turned as one and filed out of the village with Bull Demon King bringing up the rear.

            As they faded into the distance, you could finally breathe a sigh of relief. You shuffled out of your hiding place, taking in the desolation left behind. Buildings were damaged, houses ransacked, and belongings scattered along the road; all things that could be fixed with time.

            And amidst it all was the Monkey King; the unexpected savior of your village. Standing proud with his gilded armor and formidable weapon, it was hard to believe the terrifying demon from the elders’ tales was the same hero before you.

            “Sun Wukong!”

            He perked up at your call but didn’t turn around, still keeping a watchful eye on the retreating demon pack. So many words and gestures spun through your mind. Everything from tearful groveling to a friendly hug were considered, though you were still not bold enough to get too close.

            “Thank you for saving us,” you finally said with a deep bow. Though overflowing with gratitude, your simple words didn’t feel like nearly enough. “I don’t know how we could ever repay you.”

            “There’s no need.” The tone was dismissive but the happy curl of his tail and the tiny smile barely visible over his shoulder was too telling to ignore. “You should check on your kin. I’ll make sure the demons leave for good.”

            Jumping into the air, a cloud materialized under his feet and kept him aloft. With a final parting wave, the Great Sage flew away, following after the Bull Demon King’s troops. You watched him fade into the horizon, a newfound fondness in your heart warming you against the winter cold.

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~🍑 Peach Friends 🍑~

@joyfulllittlething @iluxurycruisedthatship @drspecialhell @moondrop39-dovewing70 @happycarp @chibifox88

(If you would like to join the tag list, let me know!)

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I went light on the action for this chapter since I have another fight planned later in the story. Had so much fun getting to write Wukong showing off with his fancy stick, it's what he deserves. Thank you all so much for reading and for all the wonderful comments and theories! They really make my day!

You can also find this story on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60643669

[xechu]

cw: suggestive themes, swearing, 18+ blog mdni

notes: from the same au as my one shot “Warm on a Cold Night” // check out the first HC here

ex/boyfriend!sukuna - who could be charming and actually good with his words when he wanted to be, but overall, communication was not his strong suit.

ex/boyfriend!sukuna - whose life might not have been the most smooth sailing, but he always took matters into his own hands and somehow managed to carve out his own path, which fueled his arrogance a little more than it should have.

ex/boyfriend!sukuna - who struggled with having to accommodate for someone else, when he had been so comfortable living life on his own terms and accord—now it always nagged at the back of his mind that there was someone else he had to answer to. But he still tried his best.

ex/boyfriend!sukuna - who finally got you to be his girlfriend after half a year. You understood that he could be a little rough around the edges and has a (very) wild side, but you deemed him to be a good man beneath it all. You also respected that he was able to make something for himself despite his turbulent past.

ex/boyfriend!sukuna - who couldn't believe that he was able to get the girl of his dream, but after a year of being together, your relationship quickly became an emotional roller coaster—volatile and chaotic. The two of you would reach the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. He truly loved you, but given how he had always lived his life, this was all uncharted territory for him. This went on for another three years.

ex/boyfriend!sukuna - who loved going on vacations with you. Surprisingly, he’s the one who usually plans them. He also pays for every single one of them, he just asks when you’re free to go and plans accordingly. It’s cheesy, but he wanted to see the world with you—only you. The two of you would always have a great time wherever you went. And this also meant that he wasn’t arguing with you about certain aspects of his life, he knew it was a temporary escape, but if only it could always stay like this.

ex/boyfriend!sukuna - speaking of arguments and conflict, he always got angry and frustrated when you were upset or crying, but most of the time the frustration and anger wasn't actually directed towards you—it was to himself. He felt like he failed you, and deep down he knew what was causing your grievances, but he was also stubborn and selfish in his own ways.

ex/boyfriend!sukuna - who argued with you about the same things over and over again. It always starts with you expressing concern about his lifestyle and the crowd of people he hung out with. You weren’t trying to control or dictate him, but his self-destructive behavior always seems to be exacerbated and encouraged by his so-called friends. You were worried about him. The only people that seemed to try to keep him in check was his family and his best friend Uraume.

ex/boyfriend!sukuna - who walks away, leaving you a sobbing mess in the apartment after one particular nasty argument. Even though he didn't explicitly say he wanted to break up this time, the words said during this argument was hard to come back from, and his choice to walk away instead of addressing the issue time after time, inherently put things into perspective. This time, things seemed rather final, and his intuition was correct as he finds his belongings all packed up in a box the very next day.

ex/boyfriend!sukuna - who doesn't say much at the sight of his boxed up belongings. There were no questions, no fight, no protest, not a single word. He quietly takes the box, accepting the reality of the situation, throws your spare keys on the dining table, and leaves without sparing you another glance - like the past four years meant nothing, like you meant nothing.

ex/boyfriend!sukuna - who was working out at the gym after he dropped his stuff back at his own place. He forgot to bring his headphones and had to listen to the much dreaded gym music. "Baby Come Back" was on blast and he nearly wanted to throw his weights into the mirror. Needless to say, he added that song to his playlist the same night.

ex/boyfriend!sukuna - who found himself in front of Yorozu's door three weeks later. Yes, this wasn't the best idea, but the two of you had broken up. He no longer had to justify his actions with you. Besides, he just needed to blow off some steam, and he didn't know who else to go to that would have openly accepted his current predicament.

ex/boyfriend!sukuna - who knew he majorly fucked up when you called him at 2:30 AM, drunk and sobbing hysterically, while he was still over at Yorozu’s. As he’s scrambling to get dressed to come pick you up, he’s praying to all the gods out there that you will never find out about this. He swears on his life that this was going to be the last time he had ever sought Yorozu out for favors again.

a/n: ahh, I've been enjoying making hc's for this au, it's a nice little break from my other projects right now. Just something fun and lighthearted that doesn’t require a lot of time and editing. And I do enjoy writing hc's because I treat them as little lores and ideas for potential one shots that I can go back on. If I start expanding a lot on this au, I may have to come up with a series name. The events in this hc all happen prior to ‘Warm on a Cold Night’.

Shameless self plug: you can check out some of my other works here under 'archive'. x

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

This exchange after they leave Anne and Mary’s. They are both overly-polite. They aren’t quite comfortable around each other yet, and neither wants to say the wrong thing, still sussing out the other.

They’re also both protecting their own egos a bit by being nonchalant over the question of where Ed is going to sleep tonight, when it’s obviously the only question that needs answering currently.

Ed says first he’ll ‘crash in the trees’, then starts to say something else.

‘Well, I mean…’ indicates Ed’s about to suggest something, but is also a lead in for Stede to suggest something too, which is likely what Ed wants. It causes Stede to say ‘Well, I was thinking…’ as a mirroring of Ed’s language, and then ‘if you wanted to…’ because Stede doesn’t wish to appear too keen because he’s not sure he’s forgiven yet.

Ed’s interruption ‘Well, no you shouldn’t have to…’ is quite emotive depending on how it’s interpreted. He’s saying this isn’t Stede’s problem to solve. He’s saying Stede shouldn’t feel he has to stick his neck out for him with the crew. Ed’s also saying Stede doesn’t owe him anything. Ed’s possibly playing it cool, and whilst recognising that Stede doesn’t have to, he bloody well hopes he’s gonna. It shows how they’re both treading so lightly though here.

You then get this ridiculously polite to-ing and fro-ing, ‘sorry you go etc.’ until…

Ed wins.

He wins because he doubles down on his ‘No yous’ making Stede have to give way, and forcing him to say what he wanted to all along. Stede’s seemingly backed into a corner to save face. Once Stede suggests Ed stays one more night on the ship, it’s like the coolness and politeness facade drops for both of them.

But I just love this little scene. The sussing each other out, ego protection, and then they’re both just pure dorks who love each other so much and can’t hide it. Ed’s eyes are huge and his answer dopey. And Stede scares the wildlife with his glee. Stede then runs into the trees like Kermit, and Ed gazes after him like a love-sick kitten.

[chuellas]

Fine Line | Chuuya is always overworking himself, always choosing work over you and you’re finally fed up with it.

⤷ Ft. Nakahara Chuuya

Warnings | Fem!reader, mentions/consumption of alcohol, term “doll” used, a tiny itty bit suggestive if you squint, hardly edited, WC: 5k

A/N | I had no idea where I was going with this one when writing it but I had so much fun writing it

You’re sitting at the bar now. You moved from your reserved table after an hour of waiting, figuring it could go to a couple that actually planned on spending the evening together. You let out another sigh into your gin and tonic. You’ve been at this restaurant for about 2 hours now and haven’t eaten a single thing. It’s your date’s fault, really, they were the one that never showed up. You don’t know why you even try anymore. Dating was pointless in your line of work anyways. 

But sometimes going on dates warded off the loneliness and that incessant craving you get for normalcy.

You check your watch for the time only to find it’s now past midnight. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you finally make the decision to pull out your phone and call the person you actually wanted to spend the evening with. You're pleasantly surprised when he picks up on the first ring.

“Thought you had a date.” You’re greeted with a tone that’s laced with exhaustion but something else jumps out too — annoyance, maybe? Or maybe you’re just imagining things after downing your third drink of the night on an empty stomach.  

You hum, pointedly not answering his question directly, as you signal for the bartender to close out your tab. “You still in your office working on that mountain of paperwork?”

The pause from the otherside of the phone is a long one, it’s a contemplative pause you conclude, you can tell he’s trying to decide whether to humor you or to push his own question. It would be a waste of his time to go with the latter, you had no intention of breaching the topic of you being stood up yet again. This time especially stung with it being a woman and all. You thought she would have known better, or at the very least have the common decency to warn you of her impending absence, knowing very well how long it takes to get ready for a first date. You shaved and took an “everything” shower for this occasion.

A soft sigh of defeat is heard from his side and you grin widely, Chuuya is much smarter than he’s given credit for. “So what if I am?”

“Stay there. I’m on my way.” You don’t give the executive room to argue as you hang up on him. 

As if on cue the bartender brings you the receipt and your card, after signing you leave a generous amount of cash in the tip jar with a smile. You leave the restaurant the same way you came, without a word as the manager babbles on about how much of a pleasure it was to have your patronage. You wave him off with the same smile that’s feeling more forced by the minute as you step into the elevator.

When the doors slide shut after what seems like an eternity, you’re finally able to relax for a moment. The disappointment of another wasted night sinks into your shoulder, making them cave in. You deflate in defeat, having to resign to a fate that’s been set by some stupid carrot topped man that has to use his ability to reach the top shelf of overhang shelves. He’d never admit it but you’ve actually caught him doing it before. 

This was all somehow Chuuya’s fault. If he ever did anything other than work you wouldn’t seek solace in other people. You would be able to let yourself actually explore the feelings that stir in your chest when you’re around the ginger. But instead you’re stuck calling him after failed dates to see what he’s up to and if you can get away with bugging him. 

Headquarters is just a few blocks north of where you’re at, it shouldn’t take you more than 10 minutes to get to Chuuya. Well, maybe 20 since your favorite ramen place is on the way and you know they’re still open. So you have to stop there for two bowls because not only have you not eaten but you know Chuuya probably hasn’t either, being too engrossed in his paperwork to remember that basic bodily functions exist. 

Another 5 minutes after picking up the ramen and you’re making your way up yet another elevator to the floor that holds both your office on one side and his on the other. You take a moment when the doors open to decide whether you want to go straight to Chuuya’s office or if you want to stop at yours to change into something far more comfortable than the dress you’re currently wearing. Your stomach ultimately makes the decision for you when it rumbles loudly. The ginger’s office it is.

You don’t even bother with knocking, too tired, hungry, and impatient to wait on him to answer. The door creaks as you push and then groans out a complaint when you kick it shut behind you. Chuuya isn’t even fazed when you enter, his nose still buried in his paperwork. Thankfully the pile was no longer a mountain, more of a small hill now. It still looks like an hour or two’s worth of work. You’d offer your help if it weren’t for the fact that you’re pretty sure you’re drunk. 

Making yourself comfortable without a word you saunter over to his desk and choose to sit yourself on top of his scattered paperwork, plopping the ramen in front of him.  

Chuuya freezes, staring at the bag of food in disbelief before turning his accusing glare at you. “What the f-”

His words die in his throat when his eyes finally land on you. Even in your slightly, maybe more, inebriated state it’s hard not to notice the way his eyelids droop as his dual colored eyes scan your figure. He must be really tired, he’s usually far more tactful when he checks you out. 

You swing your legs where they dangle from his desk, pleased with yourself and his reaction. “I brought you some dinner. I didn’t get a chance to eat so I figured neither have you. Looks like I was right!”

Chuuya has to practically tear his gaze from you to see what you’re talking about. You untie the bag to reveal two containers filled to the brim with ramen. You lean in to read the labels to make sure you were taking the right container but in the process it gives the executive a nice view right down our cleavage. You have to bite back the smile that threatens to stretch at your lips when you hear the way his breath stutters. Maybe now you’re the one not being tactful but you figure someone deserves to appreciate the way you look in this dress since the intended party will never get to. 

“You stop at that shop down the road?” Chuuya clears his throat as he waits for you to grab all of your things before reaching for his own container.

You kick off your shoes and jump off his desk to pull a chair up to the opposite side. “Yeah, thankfully they stay open late. Can you clear some of the papers up? Don’t wanna get them stained in ramen broth.”

“Really makin’ yourself at home, aren’t you, Doll?” He raises a brow at you in amusement but clears his desk off regardless.

You hum and nod your head, too busy taking a bite of your ramen. Your eyes practically roll to the back of your head and you let out a pleased hum at the flavors dancing along your tongue. The savory taste of the broth alone almost completely washes away the lingering bitter aftertaste the last few hours left in your mouth. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you had stepped foot into that shop. Now you are famished and even the most bland of foods would taste absolutely divine in this moment. You’re so absorbed in your meal that you don’t even take notice of the way the ginger sitting before you is watching you so intently that he hasn’t even touched his own food. 

It’s not until he clears his throat that you peer up at him. “You’re eating like you’ve been starved, didn’t you have a date tonight?”

There’s that question again, you suppose you gave him too much credit earlier. He wasn’t smart enough to just let it go. Or maybe he really was just letting his curiosity get the best of him. Either way there was no way in hell you were going to tell him that another date bailed on you. So instead you smile sweetly.

“You know how small the portions are at those types of restaurants, I took like two bites and it was all gone. Had some drinks after too. So, yeah, I’m famished. I know you are too. Eat.”

Your tone leaves no room for question. You’re both dancing around touchy subjects. Chuuya knows if he wants to get you to admit what really happened he would have to swallow his pride and admit he was overworking himself and he'd be damned if he ever let that happen. 

Or at least that’s what you thought. 

You watch him through your lashes as he opens the ramen and takes a bite, and then another, and then another. He hardly ever eats when there’s work to be finished. This is definitely a rare occasion and you have a sneaky feeling, somehow during the few seconds of your exchange in challenging glances, something shifts between the two of you. 

You stare at the other executive absolutely gobbed smacked at the fact that he’s actually listening to you. Your eyes are wide, your jaw is dropped open, and the chopsticks you were using to eat fall from your fingertips and splash into your soup. A few drops from the broth fly into your eye and you let out a hiss at the sting from the spices and temperature. 

The moment the two of you just had ends just as swiftly as you fan at your eyes frantically and then hold out your hand to Chuuya. “Eye drops- Oh my god your eye drops. Now, Chuuya.”

The ginger is jolted from his stupor when your voice becomes sharper. He reaches into the drawer to his left and produces a small bottle of eye drops, something you knew he keeps around due to his frequent late nights burning the midnight oil. It’s how he keeps his eyes from getting dry with exhaustion. 

You snatch the small bottle from his hands and throw your head back to all but squirt the soothing solution into your eye. It takes a moment to work, the sensation getting worse before it gets better. But after a moment you’re good as new, maybe even better than before. 

It’s a truly sobering experience and any left over buzz you were holding onto sadly fizzles out. You’re now stone cold sober and kicking yourself for coming here this late, know the only outcome is getting sent away so the ginger could finish his work in peace. You’re nothing but a distraction to him.

But if that were true, why even let you into his office, his space, in the first place?

“Thanks…” You hand the medicine back to Chuuya and pick your chopsticks back up to continue eating, pretending like nothing happened. “So, how many nights in a row have you slept here this week?”

You tilt your head to the couch that has a head pillow and blanket set up on it — inviting, almost, if you didn’t know how incredibly uncomfortable that couch was. It couldn’t be good for his back. You know he already deals with the residual chronic muscle pain he experiences after using his ability, especially after using corruption. You wish he would slow down, his body already pays for his ability, it doesn’t need to suffer because of his excessive working habits too. 

But then you would just sound like a broken record. 

Chuuya never really listens. He’s stubborn that way and it’s not just his body that pays for it, his social and love life pay the price for it too. It’s frustrating to care so deeply for someone who would rather think of others and their work than their own wellbeing. 

What’s worse, though, is that you’re selfish. You’ll take the heated stares and intimate touches in the dead of night on the rare occasions he’s not spending them at his desk over nothing at all. Maybe it isn’t selfish, maybe it’s self-deprecating but you can’t help yourself. You’ve tried to move on — that’s what you were trying to do tonight. But the universe has a sick and twisted sense of humor, so you once again find yourself in his office during the devil’s hour.

Suddenly you hear a muffled voice and you’re thrusted back to reality. Chuuya looks at you expectantly and you furrow your brows at him. “What?”

“I said: I figure you wouldn’t be eating with me right now if your date went well, you’d be over at his place, right?”

Your eye twitches in irritation and not from the soup broth that landed in it just moments ago. He’s trying to evade your question. Of course he was actively avoiding it, why would he ever admit to you something that you don’t think he’s admitted to himself. 

What’s worse is he’s pushing his question from earlier. Wording it differently to mask his nagging curiosity. His gaze is hypnotizing, something shifts again. You don’t think you care for the butterflies that erupted in your stomach. The usually light and exciting flutter of their wings now feel like razors slicing their way up your throat. It burns and you might throw up.

It’s so unfair, the way he makes you feel is unfair.

You don’t know what possesses you but a single syllable flies past your lips in response before you can catch it. “Her.”

“Her?” And this man has the audacity to look semi-amused as he says the word back to you in a questioning tone. 

In that moment you know he knows and you watch in abject horror as his amused expression twists into a knowing one. Now you’re sure, he’s aware that you know he knows. 

Your eye almost twitches again at the way his brow raises in amusement at your answer and suddenly you feel defensive. You don’t give a shit if he knows what you’re trying to do by dating around. You don’t care if he knows that each attempt has ended in failure. You don’t care that he knows that each failure ends in you crawling back to him.

You don’t care.

You don’t.

You steel your expression, eyes becoming sharp as they bore into Chuuya. “Yeah, it was supposed to be a woman I was meeting tonight.”

“Well she’s an idiot for not showing, especially when you look like that.” His tone sounds sincere and it makes you want to throw up.

You let out an incredulous scoff — you can’t believe that he just said that, of all people. “She’s not the only idiot.”

“She’s not?”

Now he’s really starting to piss you off, his smug expression tells you all you need to know. This must all be a game to him. He’s toying with you, he has to be, and he has been for a while now but you’re finally sick of it. You’re tired of the constant back and forth but not getting anywhere because he would rather stubbornly overwork himself half to death to have an excuse to avoid you than admit his obvious feelings for you. 

The revelation sends your whole body into a fit, you’re trembling and seething and it’s pouring out the seams. You’ve cracked. You should congratulate him, really, no one has elicited this much emotion from you before.

Chuuya’s demeanor changes when he notices how worked up you seem to be getting but he’s too late. You’re already past the point of being settled down because you’re shaking like a goddamn chihuahua. Your nostrils flare in irritation and ears flush in anger. 

“No, she’s not the only idiot that’s managed to fumble me. Look in a mirror and you’ll know who the other person is. Enjoy overworking yourself to death. I’m going home.” 

All at once the blazing rage that washed over you burns out when Chuuya makes no indication of moving to stop you and immediately you wish the ground would just crack open to swallow you whole. Suddenly you’re all too aware of your response to his play. It was more of an overreaction. How embarrassing? How is it that he’s able to elicit this strong of a reaction from you. 

How can he not follow after you like he has better things to do?

But he does have more important things to do than console you, doesn’t he?

For the second time tonight you’re mortified, but unlike earlier, this one was your own doing. You just threw a fit, had an actual tantrum, over someone who has made it clear he’s not ready for something that you think you are.

Maybe selfish is the right word.

You contemplate halting in your spot and apologizing but your pride keeps you from doing so. You should have never put all your cards on the table. You curse yourself for ever letting your true feeling for the ginger slip that one drunken night several months ago that when asked about the next day you had conveniently forgotten all about it. Something tells you that he remembered it clearly, so, if not stopping you was his final response to your confession then you have to accept that. 

Your hand reaches out for the door knob and you almost flinch when it comes in contact with the cold metal. He’s really just going to let you leave like this. Your head is a mess— no, your whole body is a mess. Your head is filled with fog, a mist of endless thoughts descending on you to make everything blurry. Your chest is like a tsunami of emotions washing over you in sharp waves. Then there are those damn razor sharp butterflies that are still threatening to claw up your throat. 

But just as you start to turn the knob, a gloved hand covers your own and halts your actions. Your breath hitches when the anxiety you’d been feeling just a moment ago completely dissipates. Chuuyas chest is pressed against your back and his forehead falls to your shoulder. 

“Chuuya wha-”

He doesn’t give you a chance to finish your question when he mumbles out, “I don’t need a mirror to know that…”

Oh. 

Is he really implying that he knows he’s been a fool? Is the world coming to an end? Chuuya? Admitting to being an idiot? You thought there was a higher chance of getting struck by lightning before hearing anything of the sort from the executive himself. 

“I’m sorry.”

You blink, you think your brain’s been fried, convinced that Chuuya can see the steam rolling out of your ears as you short circuit. “For what?”

You croak out the short question, words catching in your throat. It surprises even you when a sob follows. You hadn’t realized that the emotions you were feeling hadn’t dissipated but instead had been forced out in the most embarrassing way possible. 

“I…I’m sorry for…” Chuuya trails off and curses under his breath, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Jesus Christ. I’m sorry for not putting you first.” 

His voice trembles in something akin to fear. Something in your chest tears at his tone and it hurts. You look up at the ceiling to try to blink away the water that’s blurred your vision and take in a sharp breath after getting winded from the sudden blow. Your hand finally falls from the door knob and you both stand there in silence. The only noise is the grandfather clock that stands tall on the far end of his office, if it wasn’t for the loud ticking, everything would feel frozen. Something about the silence on your part is agonizing, you want to respond, but your voice is caught in your throat, swallowed dryly as you try to wet the dry patches stinging the lining of your esophagus.

Funny how your eyes feel too wet while your throat is too dry. 

You try to take a few breaths to calm yourself down enough to speak but you can feel the impatience radiating off of Chuuya and it just makes you even more anxious. It almost physically pains you but you take a step away from the ginger and stride across the room to an open window. Fresh air, something you always appreciated about Chuuya is that he prefers open windows and fresh air to fans or air conditioning if he can help it. The executive doesn’t follow, he hasn’t even moved from his spot. His head is still drooped down from where it was resting on your shoulder and suddenly your mouth and throat flood with saliva. That familiar feeling of nausea hitting you like a freight train once again.

You clear your throat to speak but realize -- how the hell do you respond to that? Are you really upset with Chuuya? Yes. Are you upset with yourself for letting things go this far? Also yes. So, as much as you want to blame all of this on the gravity manipulator, you can’t. 

Your shoulders slump and your gaze stays glued to the twinkling city lights in the skyline as you finally speak. “You always chose work. Always.”

Chuuya looks up at that. Your words seemingly hit a nerve as irritation flashes across his face before he can contain it. You bristle at that, preparing for an argument. You’re exhausted and don’t want to argue but you will if you have to because although you know you’re at fault too, you’re not going to just let this asshole get away with his part in all of this.

Luckily, the ginger simmers down easily and slumps again, showing you how truly exhausted he is. “That’s not entirely true, I chose you…Sometimes….”

“You think I should be grateful for that? You only chose me instead of work ‘sometimes’ to make yourself feel better about stringing me along.” You’re not looking at him when you speak, too interested with the view, or at least that’s what you’re telling yourself.  “Or to get your mind off of work. I was just an escape to you. Nothing more.” 

This time you don’t have to look back at him to feel the frustration radiating off of him in a similar way gravity manipulation does when he activates it. It’s hot, his frustration, you imagine if you reached out there was a chance you’d get burned. It’s rare to witness Chuuya losing his cool like this, the only other person besides yourself that could get him riled up like this long gone from the organization. Thinking about him makes you even more bitter so you take another stab at Chuuya.

“You certainly put on a convincing act, though. So congrats for that I guess.”

Snap. 

You imagine that’s the sound that would’ve been made when Chuuya’s patience finally breaks. His steps are heavy and you almost think he’s activated his ability. You almost forget how fast he is because you barely have time to turn around before he’s got a firm grip on your face. His hold is unrelenting as he forces you to look at him. 

Chuuya looks like a wreck, so many emotions written all over his face but most of all he’s hurt by your words. You know it’s wrong, you shouldn’t be lashing out at him like this but a part of you is pleased that he looks just as devastated as you feel. This is not your proudest moment by far and you’re sure you’ll feel ashamed over it later. Right now, however, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel guilty in the slightest. You said what you said and you're going to say it with your whole chest.

A shaky breath is let out by the executive standing before you. “That’s unfair. You’re being unfair.”

There’s no way this man is accusing you of being the unfair one here.

“You were unfair to me first. I’m tired. Be straight with me or just leave me alone, Chuuya.” Any fight you had in you moments ago vanishes as you finally give up.

Chuuya’s reaction shows you that he sees it, the way you’re letting him hold all the cards in this, making this his decision, the final one when it comes to this situationship. You’re done, you’re tired and now you just want this shitty night to be over with. If you had a white piece of fabric on you, you’d wave it like a flag, surrendering completely. 

He’s not good with his words, Chuuya has never been as articulate as some of the others, but he is good with actions. His actions have always spoken volumes for him, so why wouldn’t that work for him now? The executive pulls you in and crashes his lips to yours in a desperate attempt to convey to you what he couldn’t speak.

You’re a little slow on the uptake as your brow furrows and you attempt to pull away. You look at him incredulously but the expression he’s making has you halting altogether. His eyes are screwed shut and his brows furrowed in concentration and maybe a little bit in fear by the way you can feel his lips and hands slightly trembling against your face. It clicks then.

Chuuya Nakahara is finally choosing you over his work. 

This was him telling you in his own way that he’s not letting you give up like you wanted to. And if you can claim to know anything about Chuuya, it’s that he always makes good on a promise. That’s what has you melting into his hold and returning his kiss with just as much fervor. 

You both stay like that for a long while and you feel like Chuuya is trying to devour you whole in this one single kiss. As if he’s scared that if he doesn’t, you’ll slip from his grasp forever, but that would be impossible with the way he’s holding onto you for dear life. Even if you wanted to, which in this moment you didn’t, you couldn’t escape him. But you do need to pull away for air though. You shift your face the best you can away from his and even though he tries to chase your lips, you manage to separate from him.

You instantly bring your hands up to his wrist and nuzzle your face into his hands, showing him you still have no plans of going anywhere. The tension in his body dissipates and he watches you closely, patiently waiting for your response. As if you kissing him back wasn’t enough. 

“You piss me off, y’know that?” Chuuya lets out a chuckle at your statement and leans in to rest his forehead on yours.

His eyes bore into yours and there’s something there that you’ve never seen before, a sort of adoration you think he’s been holding back for a long time now. “Yeah, I have a confession to make that might piss you off even more…”

You stiffen in anticipation for the worst, staring up at him suspiciously with narrowed eyes. What was it now? You wrack your brain thinking about what he could possibly still be holding back. All you wanted was to know where you stood with him and now you do. So what else would he be hiding from you?

“It’s, uhh…Well it has to do with your date tonight, and maybe all of the other first dates that stood you up…” The look on your face must tell him that you’re picking up on where this is going and his grip on you tightens once again. “It was fucked up of me, I know. I’ll- I’ll make it up to you…I’ll take you out on two dates for each first date I ruined.”

Oh. 

You can’t even really find it in yourself to be that upset. It clears up a lot of inconsistencies for you. You have full confidence in your personality and looks, so it wasn’t adding up why you were being stood up so much. Even with you being a part of the upper echelon of the Port Mafia, that’s not public information. So, intimidation was ruled out too. You are becoming increasingly more annoyed at the thought of it all.

Maybe you should find it in yourself to be more upset about this…

Your expression displays just how unconvinced you are by his words, Chuuya can clearly see it and sense it so he tacks on some extra sweet talking to sooth your overthinking. “I’ve got a lot of time to make up for anyways.”

Your previous statement of Chuuya not being very good with his words is a lie. You were lying. The simple statement is enough to have you melting into him again. Maybe it’s the exhaustion. Maybe he got lucky. Maybe you’re just that down bad for him. Or maybe it’s all of the above. Who knows (you do).

Either way you find yourself giving in again for hopefully the last time tonight, but not before you decide to add a condition for your own benefit. “...Fine. But any trip or out of town get away counts as only one date.”

“Don’tcha think you’re getting greedy now, Doll?” Chuuya lets out another chuckle, shaking his head a little.

You shrug with a soft grin on your lips. “No, you owe me. Plus, it’s like you said, got a lot of time to make up for.”

[ye4gerism]

what do you think are some thinks curly and reader like to do together as a couple. Also how do you think it was in the early stages of them not dating but yk just getting there and then the early stages of oh were official. Also if reader and curly did actually have like the whole big wedding instead of just going to the court house do you think curly would like cry big ass tears or would you say in general of how they get married he would be crying big ass tears.

𝑹𝑬𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑺 - 𝑪𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑵 𝑪𝑼𝑹𝑳𝒀 𝑿 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

author’s note these past few hours omg 😩 thank you for the ask. i’m going to go ahead and connect this to the curly headcanons i’ve been meaning to post. and, ugh, isn’t simon baker the perfect curly??😩

* answering this ask with good luck, captain in mind but can be read without it!

content warnings suggestive, black reader friendly

• you meet curly abroad in london and befriend him (and jimmy, i guess). your friendship only fostered because you were lonely in the city and curly had made an effort to hang out with you

• so things like going out for brunch or sightseeing. you’d have late-night conversations over the phone or you’d just sit in the car and talk. nothing romantic, just pure friendship.

• however, the attraction was clearly there. the both of you just didn’t want to make a move just yet. you had learned that he lived further away from you and so you even wondered if it was worth pursuing a relationship with curly at all. you were fine with being future pen pals

• curly just thought he was out your league - you’re beautiful, smart, a great conversationalist. he didn’t want to screw you over.

• eventually he confesses:

“I just wasn’t confortable leaving without telling you how I felt. You’re a great girl and anyone would be lucky to have you,” he told you.

• you propose you try long distance and it works.

• the two of you take turns visiting each other and you fall even more in love with him each visit

• one time he proposed you go hiking and you were absolutely dreading it. going hiking with this man you just met?? you were hot and it started raining but as crazy as it was, having your first kiss in the rain made up for it

• six months into dating and you two have your first time together. curly gentle and cautious of your body. he wants to show you how much me respects you. the morning after he’s so so touchy (1:48 and beyond does not matter unless you want it to lol)

• and curly is so crazy when it comes to you and intimacy. he’s over here painting your toes and teasing you all at the same time. he paints one nail and then leaves kisses up your leg and stops when he knows he’s getting close to your hot spot.

• he’s just a big tease in general. also…didn’t know where to put this but…👀

• not only does curly taking you hiking but he takes you to a mountains to ski and do a bunch of snow shit. a lot of his dates are outdoors but you like him, so you roll with it. A lot the dates you plan are dinner dates, going to the movies, just city stuff. you’ve both learned to have a mutual respect for your differences.

• but curly loves when he’s with you. he appreciates mini home dates and just being alone with you

• then he pops the question 6 months later. and you say yes. and you have a courthouse wedding bc you two enjoy your privacy. in good luck, captain, reader and curly do have a big wedding. it’s referred to briefly in ‘rest of your lives’. i would actually argue that curly was a bit more emotional during your courthouse wedding - he read vows that he wrote and he got to be with you. there was no one there to destroy the peace. your big wedding was more of a family gathering and appeasing to your families.

• now domestic stuff…i would say that you and curly are pretty decent cooks but you’re a little better than he is. curly likes to learn though! so he’s picked up a lot of your cooking skills.

• curly’s not the cleanest but he’s not a slob either. his office space is just a bunch of papers but when he’s not busy, he does get his act together and organizes his desk. you are a stickler for organization, so the house doesn’t get too busy bc you’re always one step ahead.

• you like to shower alone but Curly always hops in when you’re ready to get out

• i feel like reader and curly would be a family of three. you’d end up having one baby, a little girl bc curly’s a girl dad (convince me otherwise).

• but you’d definitely consider adoption if you wanted a second child.

• a family of four actually sounds fitting - a daughter and a son

• curly’s big on sports, so the minute your kids learn how to walk, he’s taking them to the rec center.

• kids also mean leaving you at home when he wants to go hiking. he recognizes you need a break and encourages you to have the day to yourself as he takes the kids out

• surprisingly enough, curly’s the stricter parent. he has the hard talks with the kids when they’re disrespectful. he doesn’t hesitate when it comes to time out or taking away devices.

• you like packing lunches for the kids. you like to leave little notes for them and organize everything neatly inside

• and most importantly, you guys live happily ever after. at least, within this post.

[diminuel]

I have a little question for the cannon story, in an interview oda was asked:

And I wanted to know if you think Dragon took care of/lived with Luffy before Luffy was old enough to remember it? Basicly what do you think is the anwser to the question in the cannon story of One piece?

I'd say yes, for a short while probably. The issue is, that it's been stated in the manga that Luffy was born in Windmill Village.

I find the idea that Dragon relocated Crocodile (I'm just going to Crocodad theorize here) to Windmill Village for him to have the child there and nobody in that small village noticed kind of odd. I'm sure it can be explained away somehow because either way, someone would have needed to now who brought Luffy into the world unless this was a hush-hush operation of sorts. Which I assume generally it had to be. Dragon didn't tell anyone about it, so he just disappeared from his RA duties for a while?? But why go to that trouble, why believe he can do it and take care of his family only to them decide to leave him to keep him safe after all? What happened?

Also, it's possible that it's just not true that Luffy was born there because Garp mentions that it was a bad idea to let Luffy grow up in a peaceful village like Windmill Village. So was it Garp's decision to have him be there? Was it Dragon's decision? Did Crocodile get any say in the matter? Did Crocodile WANT to have a say in the matter? Many many questions.

But the way Oda phrased his answer suggests to me that yes, for a short time Dragon must have kept Luffy but he realized at a point (either because something happened or because he knew he had to go back to the revolutionary efforts) that he cannot raise him and that Luffy will be safer without him. Whether Crocodile contributed anything besides Luffy to the decision making I don't know. But Luffy doesn't remember them, nobody in the village talks about them (but it can't have been a secret entirely. Ace did also know who Luffy's dad was and Major most likely remembers Dragon who also grew up there.)

[simp-ly-writes]

Pinning Me Down

─────── · ·

Pairing: The Jackal x F!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You were a private investigator known as "Operator Grey" for working both sides of the table, police and the underground equally. You pull the strings to narratives to maintain work yet not everyone appears happy with your puppeteering work as an "admirer" of sorts has you watching your back while not knowing they already have it in sights.

─ · · TAGS: second person perspective used, female-pronouns used, enemies/rivals to lovers, fluff and angst, scenes of stalking, blood, violence, injury, guns, and obsessive behaviours, hurt/comfort, arguments, lying, HIGHLY SUGGESTIVE THEMES, kissing, the Jackal being a ultra charismatic mf, not beta read or edited.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,668

─ · · A/N: thank you for all the Jackal asks! I know its been a little while, still hope you guys want to read a Jackal fic!

─────── · ·

─ · · As a personal investigator and private operator for high profile clients your job was simple on the surface level; gather information with no questions asks and leave undetected with the evidence or blackmail your client requested and stare at the generous pay check afterwards before putting it to use.

─ · · People paid for how 'simple,' swift, and effective your operations appeared- always providing the results the client wanted (sometimes even needed) and you did not shy away from going above and beyond, disguising yourself while providing encrypted information, hacking into government servers, following your targets across boarders and seas without a sweat, and occasionally offering your friday night for a round of drinks with your favourite clientele (though before anyone got too touchy you would politely excuse yourself).

─ · · But that was just what your job appeared on the surface; a simple woman with a love for luxury that gained her wealth by blending into crowds and documenting evidence for deep pockets... the thing is... you didn't care for any 'side.'

─ · · Light or dark, the legal or illegal, you operated in the grey space as the "Grey Operator," or simple "Grey." Infiltrating and networking on the surface and all throughout the underground networks on a global scale.

─ · · Anytime anyone would come close to putting you behind bars, all spy agencies and police around the world knew you, knew that you helped them as much as the people they were chasing like a puppeteer pulling all the strings and slipping just enough information for the endless cycle of cat and mouse between criminals and cops.

─ · · Yet it appeared not everyone was too pleased with being "bossed" around as it appeared recently that all the targets you got requested to look over were 'sadly' deceased upon your arrival, a simple rose planted in each of their mouths, a letter in their hands always addressed to you- "Miss. Grey." Tearing open the paper, a dozen rose petals fall from the paper and one to two lines appear underneath. Some have a snarky remark or simple observation about your habits, others a clue for where they buried the information you needed in order to finish your mission.

─ · · Your chuckle at how they remove the 'operator title' from your ails and the way in which they boldly assume you're not married; it charms you as it equally infuriates you that someone is watching you in the same way you do for everyone else, simply pulling you along their intended trail with every new contract you receive and every corpse you discover.

─ · · But your humour did not last for long as your reputation was starting to take a hit. It was all fun and games to start as you observed the stack of letters by your bedside and the singular withered rose you had in a vase within your kitchen... but you did not want to be pulled along any longer.

─ · · So you took a new job, the last one your 'admirer' you tagged them to be had requested you take in order to continue to follow their trail. The catch though? You held no plans on carrying through with this mission, instead you went to a lab, tracing back the rose to its origins alongside the ink, paper, and writing-style used, anxiously waiting back for the results for a potential slip up.

─ · · You tapped your foot anxiously against the tile, eyes flickering between your watch and the clock on the wall, debating which one was running faster (both were timed the same) but it did well to somewhat calm your nerves.

─ · · Feeling increasingly restless, you unpinned your hair, sighing and ringing your fingers across your sore roots while circling the room. You picked up various test tubes and dada sheets left by the last worker within the space, nodding your head along before a 'ding!' had you dashing back across the room and eyeing the screen.

... INK: BRITIAN

PAPER: SPAIN

FLOWER: PORTUGAL

PRINTING: NOT IN DATABASE, ENTER RESULT? ...

─ · · Your brows furrow as you press your face closer to the screen in hopes of discovering a newfound answer within the code only to come back empty handed. The person who had been sending you these... 'gifts' had to be rich in order to buy the various materials and travel to plant them and by the meticulous craft of every shot between the eyes, you had already narrowed them down to being a sniper-of-sorts but they still leaved hundreds of possible candidates if not thousands...

"I'll be honest, I was disappointed you didn't even try and go see my newest gift," a man voice sounds from behind you making you still, gripping the edge of the table. You begin to tilt your head over your shoulder yet their stern tone stops any further movement, "Stay where you are, Miss. Grey and tell me the little image you have imagined me to be before seeing the real thing."

You let out a quick breath through your nose and roll your eyes at the ego of the man behind you. Standing up straight and smoothing out your shirt, you try and squint at the computer screen to catch their reflection. "I won't strain your eyes, love, only your mind, now tell me."

You humourlessly chuckle, "You won't 'strain my eyes-hm?' So a man of murder, ego, and vanity, quite the impressive and if I may say horrifically 'attractive' man I'm building an image of," you strike while rolling your shoulder back.

You listen as the man shuffles footsteps that clack against the tiles, dress shoes, once distant now appear closer, a chair scrapes against the floor before they've taken a seat behind you, "I will only admit to one of those sins. I'm afraid the other are abhorrently wrong, Miss. Grey. Do try again but this time, use more of your brain."

Slamming your fist against the table you are vibrating with anger as the comment slips in through your ears and to the front of your mind, clouding any rationally you were holding onto after being quite literally stalked for the past few months and watching as all your long-standing clients ran from you without another word, all because of this man, you think to yourself, scrunching up your nose before taking a deep breath- squeezing your eyes shut.

"Middle-aged male, European- most likely British descent from the accent yet sounds too forced to Birmingham slang making me think you're actually from London," you tease hearing man grunt but before he can send his come-back you are already speaking, "you had military experience, a marksman or sniper... leaning towards the latter by how well you disguise yourself. I would know you if you worked over the table so you're an underground operative and to know my connections you must be working for someone well-established... and with deep pockets," you conclude, "cleared to turn?"

"You are cleared," they reply, tone appearing to disregard how impressed the man was by how well you could read into him by what little evidence he gave.

Turning around you see a middle-aged man, head tilted up to observe you in a similar way you do him, from the shoes up until your eyes meet and you squint, "contacts and your nose is peeling," you whisper, biting your lip and taking another step forwards, one hand trailing behind yourself with nonchalance while in reality you were feeling for the cold metal of your weapon.

Seeing your little slide of hand you watch as the man raises an eyebrow, "no need to get violent, Miss. Grey. You wouldn't want to be hurting a grade school teacher now would you?" Your eyes narrow at the fake badge that dangles from his chest pocket, a cheery-fake smile with animals stickers cluttered around it. "Well, 'Mr. Richards', I highly doubt that you even have a formal education let alone are teaching a group of forty children when you spend your Friday afternoons in a lab with random women."

"You think yourself to be random?"

"No. But I will be in a moment."

"Is that so? Then why do I have you pinned to a room so easily?"

"You? Pinning me?" you giggle, taking a few steps back and starting to back up your gear, throwing the rose by his feet, observing how it crumbles across the white tiles, little red petals all splattered about like blood. "I would like to see you try," you tease before sharply darting out of the room hearing as the dash after you yet you know these halls like the back of your hand, dashing around a corner and bursting through a window you know to be able to fall through at a safe height into a pile of trash.

Standing up with a hull, rolling your ankle while looking up, you cast 'Mr. Richards,' a wink before walking off with the rush-hour crowd of those getting of work and sink into the subway system without a trace.

─────── · ·

─ · · You would like to say that was your last time running into said man yet he always found another way to you no matter where you seemed to turn or who you worked with... it was as if they were tracking your every move as you made it, that would be impossible though.. I've swapped phones at every stop and gotten all new passports.

─ · · The man, you know know to be as "The Jackal" in one of his recent entries to you still helped you with your work (as in doing it for you and offering you the entire pay check with his added 'gifts' again). You didn't know weather of not to feel disturbed anymore or intrigued to learn more as the notes became longer, the killing of your clients less frequent as he apologized for taking away your work while explaining he had his own jobs to fulfill in the past, and you with every city to ventured to, you thought to see his features pop up in the most crowded of places that made your heart race.

─ · · The Jackal would occasionally greet you in-person (of course when you least expected it). Take the club for instance when he ordered you a drink at the bar before spinning you for a dance and leaving at the sound of the next song like a mere figment of your imagination. How about that one time he waved you goodbye at the airport before boarding a separate flight or that time he acted as waitstaff to an event you were infiltrating.

You remember that night vividly, feeing as his longer slender fingers grabbed the coat from off your shoulders, draping it across his forearm before quickly leading you inside and into a discrete corner to offer some... advice? Before commenting on how beautiful the shade of blue made your complexion look and leaving before you could process his words and went back to hyper-focussing on your mission.

─ · · You hate to admit to yourself now how smoothy that mission ended up going with his feedback and escape plans and how well you both seemingly worked together like a seamless... effortless transition every time your paths would cross again. Just like to puzzle pieces falling together.

─ · · That once irritation now infatuation by how quickly he could rile you up with just a few words and how equally quickly he could calm you and crazily enough, you found yourself relaxing to his presence. Even looking forwards to it and waiting, hoping for the random face in a crowd to be his... you felt pathetic by how fast your heart was running before your brain. Any initial concern going out the window when the moment he complimented your work so earnestly, eyes so wide and welling with truth that you couldn't hold yourself from falling and forgetting parts of yourself in the process as you spiralled and fell into his arms, felt his kiss to your forehead, heard his voice calling your name in the private of one of your homes or felt how his hand gripped your thigh as he drove you both across seaside roads to soak of the sun.

─────── · ·

─ · · You shake the feeling of an over looming stare you never seem to find off of you before turning into your motel room. You had found yet another successful job and were ready to reap the rewards with a five-star vacation away from all the stress you had been experiencing.

─ · · Knocking off your boots and flinging off your itchy wig you sigh, feeling overwhelmed by all the layers of clothes you wear before stepping into the bathroom but the door appears to be... locked?

You jiggle the handle, "just a minute, Miss. Grey," a voice sounds from the behind the wood that has your hand stilling on the metal handle before being flung forwards and into a warm chest as the door is ripped open sending you with it, "good to see you again too," the Jackal teases, lazily casting an arm around your waist as you huff and pull away, feeling his lingering touch against your skin haunting your bones as you walk backwards and sit upon the bed.

The Jackal smirks, crossing his arms and leaning against the hallway arch, staring at you, "It has been some time since we've last seen each other, I thought you'd be all over me by now" he teases, eyes crinkling at the way you scrunch your nose up just like the first day he met you- watching as you foot taps against the floor as you think of a retort.

"Me? All over you? I think you have these roles revered, Mr. Jackal-sir," you smile, hands drifting back on the covers as you lean backwards, drinking in his relaxed appearance.

The Jackal slowly stalks forwards, standing before you before crawling over top of you as you fall back against the mattress, smiling up brightly as he traces your jaw, "and to think," he leans in slowly, breath hot and heavy against your ear as you squirm beneath him, "you'd say I'd never pin you down." He bites your earlobe before leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, across your collarbone and back up to your lips where he settles with a groan as you wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles around his lower back and smiling into the feeling of his lips on yours.

You both pull away breathless as you reach up, fixing a few golden curls that bounce across his forehead- pulling them back and leaning forwards for another kiss, "Don't make me eat my words now or you'll be left with your hand for the night," you warn, starting to pull away.

The Jackal simply places more of his body weight on you, casting you a glare, "like you'd be able to form words if I had my way with you."

"Wanna bet?" you trail one finger from his lip, down his jaw and neck before feeling his chest and the rapid beat of his heart- watching as his eyes darken to your words, "what does the winner receive?"

"Well why don't we ask them at the end? I'm sure she'll come up with a fair answer," you giggle, starting to pull at the neck of his shirt in a silent ask for him to remove it.

The Jackal does not budge, simply staring deeply into your eyes before briefly flickering down to your parted lips, "She-hm? Well I don't think he has ever lost a bet."

"It would be a pleasure to be the first one to hold one over you then."

"We'll see about that."

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: I would lose- wait who said that?? lol

─ · · JACKAL TAGLIST: @swiftietevitdrewjew @groovyponypatrollamp @alelo23 @apaperflowerreader @itz-stuts @moonlightmvrvel @nadixq

[tricoloreddango]

Saccharine

Sinbad x female! reader

Summary: You’re tired of Sinbad’s constant advances towards you. Trying to outsmart him, you make a deal with him, thinking he’ll easily lose.

Cw: obsessive, manipulative and possessive Sinbad / story is slightly suggestive / slight gore mention (Sinbad is offering you his eye as a promise though he knows you’d never take it) / I’m not done with manga, so this is based on the anime version and some chapters. Word count: around 6,3k

With another sea creature being caught and slaughtered by Sinbad’s generals, it was time for another Maharagan festival of this year; with this, time to feed people of Sindria and reassure them they’re safe—even when surrounded by deadly sea. You had to admit that Sinbad’s idea was genius, even if it was also a show for tourists. Sindria was prosperous under this man’s guidance.

You, a very citizen of Sindria, loved to attend the ceremony and have fun with all the other people, drink, dance and eat to your heart’s content. The only issue was the presence of the king himself—despite your constant rejection towards his advances, Sinbad had never given up. No, your reluctance only drove his motivation, no matter how harassed and annoyed it might have made you feel. It was as if he saw it as a challenge, a game, though you could often notice his frustration as well, compelled by something bigger than lust.

You had him question himself a lot—if every other woman (maybe besides Yamuraiha, but she was his general so it didn’t count) was falling at his feet, blushing and giggling when being flirted with and flattered—how come were you this immune? Was there something wrong with him or you? Was he repulsive to you or was he just not your type? It was a constant dilemma he had, and a source of entertainment and annoyance for his generals, especially Ja’far.

Little did he know, it was simply a matter of having self respect and self awareness. You weren’t stupid, you had eyes and knew Sinbad was extremely handsome, intelligent and fun guy. What truly bothered you were his womanizing behavior. You didn’t want to give a chance to a man who’d only see you as another conquer, another woman on his list, another woman to play… and even if he would ever want to be committed with you, you doubted his ability to be loyal. You’d rather die than see Sinbad flirt with other women while being in relationship with you. You were sure, that he was sitting on his chair as usual, women on each of his legs and on his sides, all fighting who gets to touch their lord.

But Sinbad was so egoistic, he’d probably assume you’re just playing hard to get, or were into women. Because surely you have to be interested in your own gender, instead of simply not interested in him, when every woman was different. Sinbad wouldn’t accept the truth.

The fun you had with Yamuraiha, was quickly cut short, when you heard a voice that you grew to be displeased about, as if pavloved to react negatively. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

“Having fun, my ladies?” Sinbad’s voice was full of mellow, not at all unmotivated or offended when he saw your smile automatically die, just to be a stone cold face.

With you and Yam sitting by the table, one of many placed in the warm nightly outside, Sinbad seated himself right next to your friend. Of course he could have seated himself right next to you, but then he wouldn’t have such a pleasant view, of you in your pretty and somewhat revealing tunic. It was as if just sleeves’ mesh material was teasing him. Sinbad smiled at you, usual charm on his lips.

“We were, until you came along,” said Yamuraiha with a sigh. Being drunk, she was prone to complain more than usual, but you shared her sentiment. She knew what Sinbad’s presence meant—him trying to win you over again, something she didn’t wish to see. So she was standing up quickly. “I’d rather get refill than see him hit on you again,” she said grumpily and was walking away already, leaving you alone with the king. “Yam, wait—” you clicked your tongue. Leaving you with Sinbad was so cruel of your friend. You looked at Sinbad, making him smile wider when he got your attention. Of course he’d take advantage of her departure.

“What do you want, Sinbad?” you finally asked with exasperation. Anyone else calling him by first name would be deemed as inappropriate, but it was Sinbad himself who told you to call him just that, the first time his female general introduced you to him as her old friend from Magnostadt academy, coming to Sindria to work for its palace. Of course, you refused this the first time, thinking it’s not in your place to speak so openly with a king. Yet with time and frustrations he put you through, you quickly forgot about being polite—give Sinbad an inch and he’ll take a mile.

“So rude, my lady. Can’t a man talk to the most beautiful woman at this festival?” he said with feigned dramatics, putting his hand at chest, before it was grabbing yours across the table. You tried to take it back, but his grip was tight, forcing you to hold his hand for a while until he decides he’s really crossing your boundary.

“I’m sure that’s what you tell every woman, and the logic says only for one it can be true,” you said bluntly, only making him chuckle. If you’d actually know, what he thinks of you, you’d be surprised. Sinbad had misconceptions about you, but it was mutual for both sides.

“Logically, objectively, I’m sure what I’m saying is nothing but true about you.” You noticed a little, pouty frown on his face when you didn’t blush at his honest compliment. Women back at his seat, waiting for him obediently, yet impatiently, would surely eat up his words.

“It doesn’t change the fact you’d call every woman here beautiful,” you rebutted. Were you wrong? Most definitely not, but Sinbad actually loved bantering with you. At least, that’s what he saw your discussion as, if you were not so eager to talk to him. The way you always challenged him, the way you knew how to debunk his words, the way you didn’t give up, the way you said something so witty occasionally… you were very good at stimulating his intellect. You didn’t coddle him, you didn’t please him, you were fair and square. He was a king, he was a conqueror of the seven seas, but in moments like this, you made him feel like just Sinbad.

But he had to win you over eventually. Only then, he’d be able to rest easily. He’d never admit it openly, but Sinbad was honestly obsessed with you. It wasn’t just some passing attraction, just pure lust towards your body. If anything, it was your person that got him this crazy. Sinbad loved all women, but arguably, he’s never met someone on your level, who saw right through him so easily, exposed him and made sure to play smart with him. You didn’t give unless you knew you’ll be rewarded. You were cruel enough to treat him like another person.

And his patience was slowly falling away. Every free time of the day, hell, even during his work, he couldn’t stop thinking about what it’d be like to hold you, to provoke you, to hear your mind, to make you spill pretty sounds as you’re under him… maybe even on top, if it floats your boat, your another challenge of putting him in his place.

Albeit, he was scared of being in love with you, and baring himself even more for you.

“Y/N,” Sinbad suddenly said, after the uncomfortable silence with your hand in his. Hearing your name, you were about to answer, but your friend came to your rescue, even if it was for her drunk need of dancing with you. No matter how childish it was, you stuck out your tongue at him, especially fueled by alcohol in your bloodstream. Sinbad laughed, but when you were out of his sight, he sighed. He was about to ask you something, and Yamuraiha took you away from him.

“Someone’s being rejected again, it seems,” Ja’far teased from behind, as he found Sinbad in his usual spot whenever the festival happened—right where you were. He sat down right next to his king, and refilled his wine glass without having to be asked. He knew Sinbad better than anyone, even if the knowledge he carried is heavy on his heart sometimes.

“I’m not being rejected, she’s just playing hard to get with me,” Sinbad groaned, before gulping down an entire cup. Alcohol only made him more irritable, it was never good for him either, especially when he ended up in random women’s beds.

“Surely that’s right, Sin,” Ja’far said condescendingly. “Have you ever considered the fact, that y/n is simply not interested in you and you’re only inconveniencing her?” The cold look Sinbad send Ja’far made him somewhat nervous, but he knew he had to push, for both yours and Sinbad’s sake. Even Sindria’s, as Sinbad couldn’t afford any distractions.

“You don’t understand, Ja’far. I won’t be able to rest, until I at least get a kiss from her… this woman is driving me crazy, but I am too deep in this mud to withdraw now,” he whined, and his coldness was now nothing but brattiness, a child who couldn’t get a candy before dinner, when he put his head on the wooden table, looking at Ja’far with lament. It was only so rare, when Sinbad would reveal his true emotions like a moment ago, even more scary.

“What about how she feels?”

“She won’t have to deal with me annoying her anymore, if she just gives in,” Sinbad said as if it was an acceptable solution. “Thats not how it works, Sin. You can’t just wear her down until she says yes.”

Sinbad knew that, somewhat. He was just selfish, not wanting to give up on you. It doesn’t mean he’d mistreat you or anything. At this point, you can even ask to become his wife and queen of Sindria, if it’d mean you’re only his, and actually his. He didn’t want to marry before meeting you, but certain measures were necessary, it seemed to be the case with you. He’d spoil you to your heart’s content, especially when money was no issue for him. The only issue would be making you say yes.

“Then how do I win her over, fairly?” Sinbad asked seriously, knowing Ja’far had no answer. He was met with silence, as shorter man knew you’d rather go to jail than say yes to his king.

“Just let her be, Sin. It’s the time you finally accept your defeat.” His advisor’s words had the opposite effect. The tan man felt only more obliged to win your heart, and his quiet rage was back. “As if I ever could, Ja’far.”

“Sinbad, you seriously need to stop—” he was getting frustrated with his friend’s stubbornness, but then, something was up, when Sinbad was suddenly sitting up and looking into the groups of dancing people.

Sinbad heard your laughter. And as sensitive he became to noticing any changes with you after trying to win your affections for so long, he knew this laughter was worse than usual. It was way too sultry, and if it wasn’t directed towards him, it could have meant only one thing-some man was hitting on you.

His eyes were wide, and he was suddenly very aware of his surroundings, as if on the hunt. “Uh-oh,” Ja’far thought, as he spotted you first and knew what seeing you with another man can mean for Sinbad. No matter how much of a hypocrite it would make his lord, he knew Sinbad wouldn’t accept another man coming onto you. He flirted with other women, but that’s just the way he was, nothing special, so you weren’t allowed to be flirted with—that was Sin’s twisted logic. Ja’far knew you’d probably slap Sinbad if he said this to your face.

“Sinbad, wait—” Ja’far was begging to panic as he saw the king stand up from his seat. He didn’t want him to embarrass himself, to cause you trouble or spread some weird rumors with his behavior, one itd be Ja’Far’s responsibility to clean. But Sinbad was like an animal, walking swiftly towards where you and some disgusting man were dancing, his hand on your waist.

Just a mere moment later, before you’d even notice notice Sinbad’s approach, you were already, suddenly, in his arms and few steps away from the man you were dancing with before. It was now his hand on your waist, other on your shoulder. The man having you before, was confused as you disappeared so quickly, and couldn’t locate you in the storm of dancing couples. All thanks to Sinbad’s swiftness and cunningness, dragging you away from another man without raising up any scene.

“What the hell are you doing, S-” you started angrily, but he cut you off first, bringing you close to him, chest to chest, forcing your chin up. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” he asked somewhat angrily, and you have never seen him in this state. You were even more confused. It was as if he thought you’re not allowed to talk to other men, while he can flirt with anything moving, and you weren’t even in relationship with him. You now were angry yourself. What an audacity, to think everything you do is about him, then accuse you!

You were about to slap him in the face, not so proper of you, but you felt somewhat justified after him constantly bothering you and now being controlling. Sinbad’s reflexes stopped you before you cut his cheek with your hand, but hurt and surprise flashed his eyes. Did you really hate him that much, that you’d try to hit him? He could have guessed, despite his big pride, that if you were reaching levels of violence with him, he must have pissed you off greatly. A mean and sharp comment is what he’d get at most normally, maybe you walking away too. But not a slap, especially if he was a king.

Holding your wrist in his hand, you wriggling with madness, Sinbad decided that you’d do better in somewhere more quiet, before you two would start yelling at each other and disturb everyone partying around you. With same wrist in his hand, he was dragging you away to the garden with a fountain of the palace, somewhere where you can have a private conversation. With the emotions coursing through his veins, he had to control his grip to not hurt you. Any protests and curses you were spilling, he was not answering before he’d have you away from this mess.

You were soon seated on the stone bench, surrounded by all kinds of plants covering you two from being caught. Sinbad stood in front of you, his arms, making you feel vulnerable as his tall form towered over you. He was still silent, looking at you with an unclear to you emotion, and gathering his thoughts.

“Who was that?” he finally asked, frowning. Your annoyance grew. “And why would I tell you that? I’m allowed to speak to other men.”

Sinbad squeezed on his biceps. You had no idea how much your words provoked some sense of possessiveness in him. “You are,” he said through his teeth. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to care,” you said bluntly, momentarily making him laugh at your usual talk, though he quickly was heated again. “I don’t like the sight though. You always reject me, but the moment another man flirts with you, you’re in his arms. How is that fair?” he said gruffly. You rolled your eyes.

“Sinbad, it’s not meant to be fair. I don’t owe you any attraction. I can choose who I want. Not to mention what a hypocrite you are,” you said seriously. “How come you can flirt with other women, but say I can’t flirt with others? You’re so disgusting with it too, because at least I don’t flirt with him while flirting with you.” You always hated this. Sinbad chasing you, while flirting with multiple women. He wasn’t taking you seriously or showing you how much he wants you, if you received the same treatment. You weren’t special in any sense, if every woman and you heard same things from him.

You clearly hit the spot with your words. Sinbad was aware, that technically, you were right. But not everything was black and white, so his perception of the situation was warped. Yes, he flirted with other women, but it wasn’t as serious as with you, and it was just an old habit. While you, you flirted with people you actually were interested in; so not just anyone. That man, for all Sinbad knew, could have been your future husband, if everything would go well for you both.

But he noticed how much his hypocrisy displeased you, and if it bothered you so much, perhaps there was some truth to your words. How were you supposed to trust him, if his eyes are everywhere? Which didn’t mean he wasn’t frustrated with you, or tired of the chase. At first it was just some game for him, a challenge to conquer that one elusive, unreachable for him woman. He’d catch you, then release you. But the more he had a chance to know you, it wasn’t a joke anymore. He was caught in your web before you and he knew it, and now every rejection felt like a small loss, not excitement to go further.

So, Sinbad felt resigned. If his usual methods didn’t work, and he was plenty of manipulative and cunning to win against anyone else, he’d reach the begging stage for you, if he had to. With a sigh, he squatted down, staying on one knee, lowering himself to your level. He grabbed your hand, once again not letting you go.

“If nothing I try is successful, then please, just tell me what will. Whatever it is that I need to prove myself worthy of you, I will,” Sinbad said with determination, though what truly throw you off was the sound of desperation in his tone. “Be honest with me.”

You blinked twice, wondering what was going on, and you had to admit, his words worked on you for a moment, even if mere. But then your mind reminded you of the same scene, just with a princess of Kou Empire. Back then, he was trying to manipulate young Kougyoku with same tactic, while never meaning his affection towards her. He was only taking advantage of her young naivety to get deals he wanted, just when you were taking a walk in same garden. The disgust you felt that day…

That’s why you might as well be his next victim. You were about to tell him there’s nothing that could make him a man you’d entrust your feelings and body with, until a sudden idea popped into your mind. You were plenty of smart yourself, and you just found something that could possibly keep Sinbad away from you permanently.

“There’s one thing you could try,” you said with a small smile, enjoying the look of surprise on his face. “Really?” he asked with newfound enthusiasm. “What is it?”

“Prove it to me that you can be loyal. Stop flirting with anyone else than me. Don’t even look at them.”

When Sinbad looked taken back, you felt smug as hell. Surely, you’ve just given him a challenge that he could never win. No way he can let go of his old habits, something that started when he was just a teenager. “In fact, let’s make a deal,” you continued. “If you don’t flirt with anyone else for a month, I’ll give you a chance, we’ll go on a date. If you lose, you’ll never bother me again.”

Sinbad stayed still, his expression clearly troubled, as his head was stormed with thoughts. The question of whether he could do it, the question of how hard it’d be to stop, the question of if he’d even like this… but also, realizing how often he found himself comparing women he met with you, or the odd sense of dissatisfaction.

He had nothing to lose at this point. This was probably his only chance with you, and he couldn’t screw this up. “Deal,” he said seriously.

Hearing his words, you had to bite down a giggle. He’ll lose, and you finally will be free of his unwanted advances. You really had no trust in his self-control when it came to women.

☆

It was a first week of your given challenge that has passed. Of course, you weren’t able to be there all the time to check if Sinbad was either winning or losing, so you asked Ja’far to keep an eye on Sinbad for you. You were ready for his report, confirming that Sinbad indeed had lost.

Approaching Ja’far in his office, you were quick to ask.

“Sinbad? Surprisingly, I haven’t seen him flirt with anyone for past week. Not even when drunk. It seems he’s quite proud to want to win,” Ja’far admitted, leaving you rather shocked. But… what was a week if there were there were three more left? He has to get frustrated and starved enough eventually.

☆

A second week, you’ve heard the same thing from Ja’far. Something you clearly couldn’t believe, starting to question Ja’far’s credibility. You knew he was a good man, but in the end, he would always take Sinbad’s side out of loyalty to him.

“You’re playing with me right now,” you said annoyed.

“I assure you I’m not, miss Y/N. Even if Sinbad would ask me to lie to you, in this case I wouldn’t. It’d be beneficial for his kingdom, if he was to lose this challenge,” Ja’far rebutted with seriousness. “His mind is everywhere these days, and I don’t want Lord Sinbad to stray away from work. Though, it is a pleasant change, to see him keep some decency for once.”

When you left Ja’far’s office, it was Sinbad you happened to run into.

He smiled cockily at you, knowing you couldn’t believe he didn’t lose yet. That he didn’t flirt with any woman. Not giving him a chance to speak, knowing what he wanted to say, you scoffed. “It doesn’t mean anything. I have no guarantee, you wouldn’t go back to your old habit once you win and I give you a chance.”

Of course the challenge you’d given to him, didn’t apply to just that one month. If you were to date him, you wouldn’t be fine with him flirting with other then either. He’d have to stay this loyal, as you had some standards and boundaries. You didn’t want to be hurt because he was attracted to other women while being with you, or have to live in worry he might take it one step further one day.

But hearing your words, his smile died, replaced with solemnity. “You really have no faith in me, huh?”

“Don’t act like a victim, when you built this reputation for yourself,” you said sternly, and you turned around to leave.

You were right, of course. It was years of Sinbad and multiple countries working towards his infamous reputation. As he watched you go, despite your words biting right at his being, he felt even more determined to prove you wrong. He’ll show you, that he’s deadly serious about you, and soon, you’ll be in his arms, somewhere he’d never let you go from. There was no way in hell he’d ruin his only and last chance.

☆

When third week came, you were losing your mind. You couldn’t listen to Ja’far telling you that Sinbad is still not giving up for the third time. It was all suspicious, that someone who could have never controlled himself around women, was now suddenly a proper man, celibate and monogamous. Though his lack of harem always confused you. Any other king or prince had at least concubines. Maybe it was his need for equality within the world.

You weren’t believing Ja’far anymore, nor even your friend Yamuraiha who said she didn’t see anything. You were just paranoid at this point, living in uncertainty, so you had to take matters into your own hands. The plan you came up with, was to send some beautiful woman towards Sinbad, and spy from afar to see what he’ll do. You managed to find one of the female servants, one you knew was notoriously blushing near his presence, and send her to him, telling her Sinbad wanted a massage. The young woman, she was eager to go immediately.

You followed her, and hid behind the wall, as you watched her enter the lounging room, where Sinbad was resting on the pillows, reading some documents. Servant had even lowered the line of her tunic, making sure her cleavage is bigger, before she was kneeling in front of him. “My lord, I’m here to give you a massage,” she said, batting her pretty eyes at him.

Sinbad looked up at her, surprised as he didn’t remember anything about making such request. You saw some eagerness on his face for a second, looking at the woman with intention, but oddly it was quickly replaced with something like a disappointment. You theorized what was going inside his head, to lose interest so easily and even more, why he’d look so beaten up over the flirt… but nothing made sense to you.

“A massage? No, I’m alright. You can finish your work for today, go rest,” he said politely to the girl, and looked back at his document, as if disinterested. He clearly embarrassed the girl, as she quickly left.

You were proven wrong, and it not only frustrated you, but shocked on another level. You barely managed to hide before she’d see you, and kept standing there in shock.

A half a minute later, Sinbad blew up your cover. “Are you going to stand there like a pervert?” he teased, knowing you’re right there behind the entrance in the wall. You revealed yourself, looking at him on the floor in dissatisfaction. “Was she not to your type or something?”

“Hm? No, I’m just not interested. I have all I need right here,” he said playfully, lazily tilting his head with a charming smile. He obviously meant you, and you didn’t like the rare twist of your stomach his words caused. You were also getting worried, as you had only a week left, before Sinbad would win and you’d owe him a date.

A date. Just a date. While you said that you’ll give him a chance, even if he wins this deal, of course he can easily ruin his won chance. As a result, you still will have a chance to reject him fully. Just one flirt with another woman while you’re dating, and you can say he ruined his only chance and leave.

“Don’t get cocky yet, Sinbad,” you said, filled with determination to prove him wrong eventually, and turned around to leave. Just one step into the exit, you were forced back onto his hard chest, and felt his strong arms envelop you like a snake. He moved way too fast. He then leaned into your ear, to whisper, “Soon. Just you wait, my lovely. No need to test me with other women.”

He smiled even more when he saw you storm away after you managed to free yourself from his grip, all annoyed at his physical affection. If only you could know what he thought, when he saw that servant approach him. Yes, the woman was very pretty. But recently, nothing could have compared to you, and he started to think that you massaging him would be much better. Whether there was a more beautiful woman in the world or not, it was a whole lot of different stuff that made him want you. Until he no longer had as much fun flirting with other ladies, as he used to.

You were making this challenge way too easy for him.

☆

You lost. Sinbad won. After a month, there was no documented moments of Sinbad flirting with anyone other than you, even more than before to your dislike, teasing you about your upcoming loss. You played yourself by yourself, falling into the trap of your own game.

In fact, your challenge had caused a chaos in the palace. Servants were wondering why Sinbad wasn’t hitting on them anymore, others were theorizing he must have gained some bodily disfunction, and the rest was conspiring he must have fell in love…the last one, it wasn’t hard to connect to you, considering you were the one he went after much more than once, constantly on the chase. With that, some stupid gossip you’re getting married and Sindria will have a queen or consort too.

You couldn’t have it. You couldn’t even eat that morning when a month has passed. After waking up, Ja’far brought you to Sinbad’s office, as he wanted to talk to you. You expected another one of cocky smiles of his, but instead, were met with joy and excitement when entering his office.

Sinbad stood up immediately, approaching you to pull out a chair for you. “There you are. We have a lot to discuss, don’t we?” he asked positively and sat down back in his seat. And you felt embarrassed to admit you lost, though you were still holding to that chance he’ll lose when dating you. Despite, you felt as if you owed him that date, having some decorum to keep your words. You nodded.

“Great. You know, I’m really happy I won, fair and square,” he started, a proud smile on his face. “No need to worry about your rejections anymore.” Your eye twitched. “You don’t need to worry about anything either, I promise you I won’t ruin this chance I fought for.”

“How can you be so sure?” you asked, killing his excitement a bit. But he was too invested now that he won, that his determination didn’t waver.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” he asked, accusingly.

“You might have lasted a month. But can you stay away from other women, for possibly many more?” you said seriously. You had to admit, that he positively surprised you with his win, that he had enough respect for you to restrain himself so much, that perhaps there was some affection for you he had. But you just didn’t want to give up your heart on the platter, for him to crush it like he did with some women.

Your concern didn’t surprise Sinbad. A month away from other women, he was given a lot time to think about you, and try to understand why you’re behaving this way, with some help from Ja’far. You weren’t actually playing hard to get. You were hard to get, because you didn’t want to be played by him. You were smart to be wary, and you saw through his manipulations better than other women, so your reasons for your constant rejections was simply you trying to protect yourself.

But you needed to understand he was serious about you. All these women he flirted with, it was to fill the void he couldn’t fill entirely. Yet you, you were enough to satisfy his emptiness’ hunger, until he now no longer can see a woman without thinking of you or comparing her to you. No one compared, and he was scared no one ever will, that he’ll have to exhaust you with his presence, and himself, with his obsession, for the rest of your lives. He’d never admit this, but one time, he hooked up with a woman that looked a lot like you, just to imagine it was you. Between choosing an ability to continue being a womanizer and having you, he’d choose you.

“I know I will,” he said with all seriousness and stood up from his desk. “For many reasons, but one of them is—I know you wouldn’t hesitate to reject me once more, if I was to flirt or lay with a woman again.”

He could have imagined this in his head, imagining you telling it’s over. He couldn’t have that, especially when he knew you were, unluckily for him, too strong willed to give him second chances or stay upon such disrespect.

And you had to admit he had a point. He got you there. You knew that already, of course, you just didn’t know he’d acknowledge this fact. You thought he’d assume he can make you so obsessed with him, that you’d stay even after hurting you like this.

“Still…” you were running out of excuses, but you held onto the last one in your mind. It was hard to think with him now standing in front of your chair, being oddly vulnerable and honest with you. For once, you knew he wasn’t hiding anything. You gulped. “Yes?” he asked softly. Stupid man, making you feel flustered.

“While it’s true you can stop yourself from flirting with other women… I don’t want you to do this just because it’s convenient. I wanted you to do this, because you wanted to, because you wanted to respect me and wanted me only. I also don’t want you to throw me away once you get bored.

Sinbad suddenly grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest. You were surprised to hear his heart beating so fast, in something else than a lust. With you being a magician, a category of people taught to know a lot about human bodies, you were aware it was more like nervousness and affectionate arousal caused by being near someone you love. “Do you feel my heart beat for you?” You nodded, your hand trembling slightly. “I’ll admit the truth. At first, I was separating myself from my lust only to have you. But now, it only feels right. I don’t want anyone else, but you. I saw it as a game at first. Now I can’t sleep without you.”

His heart was so fast, you had hard time telling if he’s honest or not; albeit you felt as if he was telling the truth, when his eyes were slightly trembling upon new vulnerability, searching for your acceptance everywhere in yours.

Sinbad leaned close to your face, still holding your hand against his chest, his being nothing but determined. “And if you ever see me do otherwise, I’m giving you a permission to gouge my eye out, so I’ll never look at another woman with it again.” To make his point, he lifted your hand up, and placed it right across his left golden eye.

You gasped at his words, quickly snatching your hand back. He actually meant them, and the fact he’d go so far to promise you loyalty, you had no right to have any of your doubts left. He’d never go this far for anyone but you, yet at the same time, something about this scared you. Who would mutilate themselves, just to earn your love? A madman? Or just Sinbad?

“You’re an idiot, don’t you ever think of doing that, even if you end up lying to me!” you exclaimed with some panic, not wanting him to hurt himself over slight infidelity. Yeah, he bothered you in the past, but this would be a punishment too strict, and his people needed him healthy.

“I won’t,” he chuckled, feeling warm at your concern and satisfied by your slip up. You really weren’t taking his words as cautiously as you should this time, because he already knew you’d never take out his eyes, being safe from the start; so making this promise just to make you believe was easy. Yet he didn’t lie—the promise was real, and he really won’t look at other women again. He put your hand up again, right to his lips to kiss it, and this time, it didn’t feel repulsive like it used to be for you. “Since I won’t be breaking that promise.”

“You better be, though I wouldn’t let you do something so stupid,” you said, your voice regularly becoming less harsh with each proof of worth Sinbad had given you. He was winning you over, just like he wanted. Sinbad used to bring you more trouble than it was worth, but no man had ever, and you doubted any would ever come up with this, would go this far to have you. You sighed with feigned resignation. “With that, I owe you a chance, and I’m admitting my defeat. Satisfied?” you teased, and it felt so delightful to see you smile at him.

“Very,” he said with a grin.

When Sinbad pressed his lips onto yours, you first hesitated, used to the unpleasant feeling his advances sometimes brought you, even if he never had crossed any of the bigger boundaries. But him holding your face so softly, after he proved himself for you like some chivalrous knight, bared himself for you, made a pact with you—the moment felt so right, especially when you felt reassured enough to kiss him back.

Yet you couldn’t help a feeling of being swallowed by some part of Sinbad, still alarmed by his weird promise. It’s his eye he promised to give you, but what is it, that you will have to give him too?

With your eyes closed, you didn’t see his eyes darkening. To finally have you, was a win greater than ever. Sinbad wasn’t naive to believe all he had for you was affection. His sense of possessiveness, especially with how greedy he was; lust for you and need to consume you, it all fought against his affection and feelings for you. But those feelings—they were genuine, and once he had you, you’re never leaving his side again, and you will spend your remaining days making his heart tremble like this, over and over.

If he ever has to kill a man, anyone threatening your placement beside his side, he will do so with no hesitation. That darkness he had inside himself, it will always follow both of you. You had every right to be wary of him the entire time, and he almost felt pity for you. Almost, as you were his now.

But he’ll make sure to cherish you regardless, no matter how many times you will get scared of him.

—

I also wrote smut for Sinbad if you’re interested [link]

[waterfire1848]

Au where instead of trying to imprison them, Azula joins Zuko and Iroh in search of avatar

Hello, anon!!

Ozai still orders Azula to go and capture her brother and uncle but Azula decides against that because her want for a family overpowers her need to follow his orders. She thinks that if she can join them and capture the Avatar then her father will allow them all to return home and they can have something like the family they did before. When she arrives, she instantly abandons the royal precession and goes to find him, saying that she wants to join them rather than fight. (Zuko: Do you think I'm stupid? Azula: Occasionally. Zuko: 😡 Azula: I only want to help, brother. Would you really reject assistance from me? Zuko: Yes! Azula: You're so paranoid. I really do just want to help you, Zuko. If we all can capture the Avatar then we can all go home. You will be able to redeem yourself and have fathers love.) Of course, Iroh isn't a fan of Azula and thinks that she's trying to trick them, but he doesn't want to say anything yet as Azula hasn't done anything to prove that she's lying to Zuko. Zuko ultimately allows Azula to join their team and the three head out to search for Aang.

During their first few days searching for the Avatar, Zuko still hasn't gotten a clear answer from Azula about why she's decided to join him in his search. All he manages to get out of her is that she was allowed to leave and didn't just run away from the palace. While they're out in the forest, trying to figure out where the Avatar is and what their next move will be, Azula makes a suggestion to stop by a nearby town for supplies. Iroh, not trusting Azula at all, believes that she's hiding something and claims that Azula is probably trying to trick them. Despite her words, Iroh and Zuko don't believe her and don't stop at the town. Later the next night, Azula drags Zuko to the town while Iroh is asleep and shows him that there's nothing wrong with it. The siblings decide to take the night to get the supplies they need (yes illegally) and then return to Iroh the next morning. Similar to canon, Zuko decides that he and Iroh no longer need to travel with one another and that he needs to set off on his own. (Azula: With me. Zuko: Azula, that's not what on my own means. Azula: Yes, but you're crazy if you think you can survive out here without me. Zuko: I don't have a choice, do I? Azula: Not at all.)

The siblings set out across the Earth Kingdom, tracking the Avatar, and as they do, they start to talk about life in the palace before Ursa left. Azula wants nothing to do with talking about her mother but Zuko keeps asking her questions about the night Azulon died and the night their mother left. It gets to a point where Azula finally screams at him that she doesn't care because Ursa never cared about her. Zuko argues against this and says that she loved them both. (Azula: No. She loved you. She loved her precious little Zuzu who could do no wrong and deserved the world. What did I ever get? Glares and whispers of 'what is wrong with that child?' Zuko: Azula, you know she never- Azula: Oh, but she did.) Zuko lets the subject drop and they get back to tracking the Avatar, eventually finding him on the run from a group of Fire Nation soldiers. (Zuko: How well can you fight in a mask and black suit?) The siblings stop the soldiers from taking them but Zuko is injured in the process of protecting Azula from a soldier's fireball. Azula gets the chance to grab Aang and run but decides to take her brother away somewhere where he can rest.

When Zuko comes to, he finds Azula making soup and looking over maps of the Earth Kingdom. He's shocked that she's helping him out but Azula tells him that he's more useful to her on his feet than lying on the ground somewhere and that next time he needs to stay more alert. She tells him that she suspects the Avatar is heading to a nearby rock quarry to train with his earthbending master and then will head through the forest next to Chameleon Bay to get to Ba Sing Se. (Zuko: Ba Sing Se? Why would he go there? Azula: It's a safe place for him to train with his earthbender and waterbender and for them to make more moves. Logically, it makes the most sense. Zuko: Then let's go-ugh! Azula: You're in no condition to go anywhere. We'll head to Ba Sing Se together once you're better. I already found a town nearby where I can steal some passports to get us into the city. Once we're inside it'll be easy to find the Avatar. Zuko:... Azula: You're thinking about uncle, aren't you? Zuko: Once we get into the city, it'll be hard to get out or send uncle a letter. What do we do if we need to find him? Azula: I wouldn't worry. Uncle Fatso has a habit of turning up. Zuko: Azula- Azula, handing him a bowl of soup: Just eat. The sooner you feel better, the sooner we can get moving.) Zuko also learns that day that Azula is not a good cook.

While Zuko and Azula are heading to Ba Sing Se, they run into Iroh once more who joins them into the city. There's still some obvious bad blood between Iroh and Azula but the two put it aside to focus on their main objective. Later, the three sneak into Ba Sing Se with their fake passports but become stuck in the lower ring and unable to get to the upper ring. The only way up there is to pay for a ticket which costs money that the two don't have. The siblings and Iroh get jobs at a local tea shop. (Azula: I still don't understand why we don't sneak up to the upper ring at night. Zuko: We'll get caught. We can't climb those walls. Azula: Then we'll hide on the train or something. There must be a better option than this. Zuko: Don't worry. Soon we'll have the Avatar and we'll all go home. Azula: Home.) When Jet gets captured, Long Feng doesn't simply ignore what he's saying and has a Dai Li agent watching the siblings and Iroh where they confirm that the three are from the Fire Nation. Long Feng decides to wait until they have an opening. Throughout this entire time, Azula has never told Zuko or Iroh that Ozai sent her to capture them because he believes them to be traitors now. When they get word that the Avatar is so close, Azula decides to tell Zuko about what her true mission was. Of course he doesn't take it well (despite Azula telling him that she could have easily captured him whenever she wanted but didn't because she really does want Zuko and Iroh, or at least Zuko, to be part of the family again) and decides to try capturing Aang all on his own which leads him to finding Appa. When Iroh leaves to confront him, a few Dai Li agents go to the house and kidnap Azula. The Gaang hear a knock on their door a few hours after Long Feng is kidnapped. (Aang: ZUKO!?! Zuko: We need your help.)

[floweringlino]

Vodka Redbull | H.J

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 ; she really doesn’t know how to relax does she? Maybe he can help her let loose a little bit in all the chaos of work.

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; Chef de Partie!Jisung x Maitre!reader

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 ; mention of alcohol and drinking, very light angst, mention of one night stand, suggestive and fluffy

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 ; 2,5k

The Gods Menu

Back to my masterlist

✎ ❀

Almost.

Almost done, she thought as she polished the last of the wine glasses. The bigger glasses were for the main corses, the red wines. The champagne glasses needed to go to a pedestal in the restaurant. Placing the high places on a tray she handed it to a waitress after she was done with them.

"Jessica, can you come here?" She asked one of her staff. The younger sommelier made her was over to her boss nervously.

"Yes ma'am?" She mumbled with her head down.

"Next time, you need to try and sell the special wines. Selected courses are fine of course but we have a couple of bottles that I want gone. Try to use them in the al a carte menu's. Like with the Veal you can suggest the Bernardus Chardonnay Monterey County Jeroboam. No critique, just telling you." She winked at her colleagues, always trying to remain kind.

Her eyes wondered to the loud yelling in the kitchen. They needed to quiet down. What if there were still guest in the restaurant. With a quick pace  on her heels, she walked over to the counter. One of the guys was slapping the other guys with a wet towel resulting in a loud slapping sound.

Jisung noticed her approach from the corner of his eye, quickly nodding to The intern Jeongin to stop what they were doing.

"Can all of you shut up? What if we had guests sitting." She whisper yelled at them. As they quickly put the towels away and continued cleaning, the cook made his was over to the sommelier.

"Who pissed in your drink, beautiful?"

"Fuck off, Jisung. I just wanna be done for today. I need this weekend." She rolled his eyes at him, noticing the grin on his face ridiculously beautiful face.

"Im sorry, we'll hurry up okay?" She mumbled a thanks and paced away again.

"Y/n, wait!" She turned around again in a 180° motion.

"You wanna come drinking with the guys and me?"

"And feel left out the entire time? No thanks."

"Come on, Y/nnie! It'll be fun!" The pastry chef, Felix, yelled from somewhere behind him.

"I'll make it fully worth your while, i promise."

"Let me think about it." She told them and walked away for real this time.

-

It was around 1 in the night when all of them were finally all done. Some of the cooks had left already but 5 of them were waiting for the sommelier to be done so when she finally made her was to the dressing rooms they cheered for her.

"Are you actually gonna come with us?" Felix asked her with hope in his voice. She nodded and they all cheered even louder. She wondered how loud all of them could all be, thinking she had already heard the full extent of it in the kitchen.

It was Jisung, Chan, Felix, Changbin and Minho waiting for her. They had sent Jeongin and the other intern home, they wanted to come but they needed to go to school early. Their weekend was Monday and Tuesdays as those were the days the restaurant was closed but those were also the two days the intern needed to go to school.

"Wait are you really coming? Kinda didn't think you would." Jisung teased her, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Why wouldn’t i?” She questioned them.

“Well you’re kinda always fully business. We’ve never really seen you have fun so we didn’t think you did fun.” Chan confessed to her trying not to sound mean but it didn’t really help. She did have fun sometimes. Not her entire live revolved around work.

Well I do have fun sometimes so if yall can leave and let me get dressed, ill be out is a couple of seconds.” 4 out of 5 boys left the room and apologised at the same time, Jisung stayed behind.

"Can't i watch?" He asked with a desperate undertone, after which Chan dragged him out of the room.

She couldn't help but sniffle a laugh.

-

A little later the 6 of them made their way into the street where all the bars were. She hadn't been there in at least a year because of her job, the guys were very familiar with the placed they walked passed, making comments as to why they didn't walk inside

"Too many chicks."

"Firstly don't call them chicks. Jisung. It doesn't make you look cool. Secondly, since when is too many girls a problem?" She questioned him. He smugly smiled at her.

"Don't need any. Got my number one girl right here." He winked and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She left it like that, not disliking the feeling of an arm around her. His arm specifically.

They follwed Chan into a bar they seemingly were all familiar with.

"143" she mumbled the name and as they walked in she felt Jisungs stare on her. Pushing past the crowd of people, she felt his arm slipping of her shoulders. He walked in front of her and just as he was about to lose her, he reached for her hand and pulled her closer. She mumbled soft sorry's around her and the group made their way to the dance floor. Finding her place she started to move a little to the loud music.

"Let me get you a drink, what do you like?" Jisung yelled over the music. She didn't hear him so she pulled him closer to her to make him ask her again.

"What can i get you?"

"Vodka Red Bull please?" She had to look up at him a little through her eyelashes.

"Really? Miss ‘i sell thousand dollar wines every night like its nothing’ drink a basic red bull vodka?" He laughed at her but not in any way that would hurt her. She laughed with him and nodded with a smile. He left her there to get her her drink. Without him she felt a little lost and didn’t know what to do. They really weren’t lying. So didn’t do fun things. Her idea of fun things was staying longer and work and mapping all of the wines. When he returned with the glasses he handed her hers and she took a big swig of it.

“Wow take it easy, beautiful.”

"Lets get shitfaced tonight." She grinned and cheered at what he said with the rest of their colleagues.

“Why do you wanna get shitfaced?”

“Because I don’t know what Im doing Jisung. I can’t even dance.” He grinned and her and placed his hand on her waist. Pulling her against himself.

“Just follow me, okay? I got you.” He laughed, kissing her cheek and taking another chug of his drink.

And shitfaced they got. The rest of the night was filled with drinking and dancing. Lots of dancing. After the what felt like 100th shot the bodies got closer together. Jisungs breath heated up her neck and her cheeks. His hand was still on her waist as they moved simultaneously. Her ass pressing into his crotch and his pressing his lips in her neck every once in a while. As long as she didn't stop him, he saw no point in them stopping.

From the back, she looked up at him. Her eyes drunk and her hair sweaty and sticky. Their bodies where wet from fallen beer and sweat. They probably looked beyond drunk but it all didn't matter. Right here, right now, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes upon.

"Lets all go home." Chan said around the group, to which most agreed.

He questioned himself. Did he even dare to ask? He eyes looked into her searching for a sign. Something for him to gain the confidence. And there it was, just a simple shimmering in her drunk gaze.

"Wanna come back to mine?" It was only a whisper but his words sounded like sirens in her head. Don't do it. You work together, this is a bad plan. Think of your carreer.

But it all didn't matter at this moment.

She pressed her lips to his and in the hasty kiss mumbled a yes. He grinned at her and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer.

The walk to his house were filled with gentle touches as they slowly got there. They had lost the others way back at the bar but they didn’t care and they didn’t try to stop them. He pressed her against the front door the second she closed it behind her. His arm rested above her and the other one slid from her waist to her jawline. Pulling away he smiled down at her.

Maybe there was a way she wouldn't regret this in the morning.

-

The sun burned in her eyes when she slightly opened them. The bedsheets perfectly wrapped around her and the pillow was softer than she was used to.

This wasn't her pillow. Her breath stoked in anxiety. Where was she? Then she noticed the arm wrapped around her waist. Turning her head she looked back at the sleeping guy behind her. She muttered out a couple fucks and peeled the arm away from her. Slipping away from his body as silently as possible not wanting to wake him.

Sitting on the edge of his bed she grabbed her phone. 9.30. Quickly putting on her clothes and without a sound she left the appartement, not caring about the messy hookup look she was rocking. Luckily she didn't have to see him next Monday and Tuesday.

The next to days where spend question her decision. She thought about quitting her job, not wanting to face the guy out of embarrassment. But maybe that was taking it way too far. It was just a hook up. Sure she thought he was funny, handsome , kind and very hot but it all didn't matter. They worked together and you simply don't date colleagues.

When she walked into work the next day she could already hear the guys busy in the kitchen. They would see her when she made her way over to the bar and when they did she heard them whispering. It was about her, of course it was. All of them had seen the two of them leave together.

She tried to ignore them but her eyes kept wondering over in admiration. Sure, they all joked around when it was quiet but nothing stopped these guys. The hours they make are nothing compared to hers. It was passion and art.

Her eyes crossed Jisungs and it made her jump a little. She quickly looked away and tried to ignore his burning gaze. And as quickly as the day started it was over again. A part of her hated the silence. It was killing. They weren’t talking to each other and that didn’t only mean Jisung and Y/n. All of them ignored each other. The kitchen didn’t talk to the waitresses and quickly picking up the vibes, the waitresses didn’t talk to the kitchen. It was Wednesday so they were lucky it wasn’t busy but if this had happened on a Saturday they would have been in total shit.

Her phone dinged and she quickly looked at it, her heart skipping a beat.

Suddenly the room felt a lot smaller. Did the walls have eyes? She felt so watched so when she looked back at the kitchen she expected him to be looking at her and she was right. Not only him, also his friends. They patted his back and walked away from the kitchen towards the changing rooms.

The girls from her staff made her way towards her.

“Y/nnie, we’re done with everything you asked us. Can we leave? Some of us have school in the morning and today like, really sucked.”

“Of course girls, text me in the group chat when you all get home safely and goodnight.” They all said goodbye and got ready to leave.

“We hope that you and Jisung figure out whatever is happening!” And with the they left her completely speechless. It was only them. And finally it was time to talk. Her eyes wondered back to the kitchen where the light was now turned off except for the orange heating lamp of the pass. Underneath layed sugered cherry tomatoes to dry. She walked to the kitchen to see if Jisung was still there but she didn’t see him.

The hand on her shoulder made her jump.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine Jisung. You wanted to talk?” It’s like she dismissed it. Like it didn’t matter. He looked at her a bit shocked.

“No no this is not how we’re gonna do this. Were gonna sit down and talk. And with that i mean that you’re gonna explain why you ran out on me.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to sick down on one of the sofas the restaurant had.

“I don’t think I can do this Jisung.”

“You’re gonna have to because right now its hurting me.”

“How is it hurting you?” Sh asked him, looking him deep in his eyes. She saw hurt and pain in them.

“Because right now I cant help but think that I was so awful to you that it made you run away.”

“Its not that Jisung.”

“Then what is it. What made you run out on me after the best night of my life?” He grabbed both of her hands in his, forcing them to stare at each other. Tears pooled in her eyes as she sought the words the wanted to speak.

“Because im scared. Jisung.”

“You? You’re not scared of anything. You’re Y/N, you’re the person everyone looks up to. The person everyone goes to when they need anything. You’re the backbone of the restaurant.”

Me? Jisung, im scared of everything. Im scared of my future, im scared of what to do, of taking charge, of who i am. But most of all im scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life that way that I felt that night that i was with you.” Her lips fell in a smile with the tears on her cheeks. The confession was a heavy burden on her shoulders but it was finally lifted. Jisung reached for her cheeks wipping the tears away. She leaned into the touch of his hand she smiled.

“I know that this, us scares you but please give me a chance to prove to you that im worth it. That im worth the risk.”

“I know you are Jisung.” He finally dared to smile back at her. He leaned in slowly, his hand still on her cheek.

“Can I kiss you again, Beautiful?” She nodded and excepted his loving kiss. She still remembered all the kisses they shared two nights ago but this one was different. It held promises, and finally work wasn’t the only thing on her mind.

It was him, all him.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙

𝑨/𝑵: oh em ghee this one took such a long time im so sorry ive been working sooo much. I hope you like it🫶🏼

Taglist: @nightmarenyxx 🫶🏼💓

[thesongbirdssonginvesuvia]

Dancing in the Fountain

(Rolled Dice (D6 and D20) for postcard inspiration and got #3 and #13)

Rating: PG (for slightly suggestive content

Pairing: Julian/Sparrow (Apprentice, She/Her)

Word Count: 608

Summary: On a warm summer night, dancing in the palace fountain is a must...

The moon was full that summer night, bathing everything in a magical silverly light. Julian grinned as he quickly removed his boots and climbed right into the refreshing waters of the place fountain. The water was cool and refreshing against his bare feet. Grinning he then turned to Sparrow who watched him with eyebrows raised. He held out his hand to her. “Care for a dance?” he asked dramatically.

              Sparrow looked up at him, first looking as if to question the idea before she allowed herself to smile. She quickly removed her boots as well and took his hand, allowing him to pull her up and into the water.

              He gave her a bow. “Milady.”

              She gave him a curtsy. “Doctor.”

              Then he swept her up in a quick step that sent water spraying everywhere. They both laughed as the water went flying like glittering fairy orbs in the moonlight. They were both quite skilled though there were a couple of trips due to the slippery bottom of the fountain. Still, they managed a twirl and a dip, as well as a fall which ended up with Sparrow on top of Julian, soaking them both. Still, they laughed as they didn’t mind the fact that they were dripping and shivering just a little.

              Sparrow looked Julian in the eye, still smiling. “I must say that you are a bad influence Mister Devorak,” she said brushing a bit of wet hair back behind her ear.

              Julian chuckled then smirked. “Indeed, I am, and would you have me any other way?”

              “No, probably not,” Sparrow answered as she leaned forwards and kissed him, at first sweetly but soon the kiss developed into more, with tasting and biting. Unfortunately, the moment was interrupted by the sound of the guards.

              “The sound came from over here!”

              “Oh fuck!” Julian hissed as they both scrambled to their feet. They may have been friends to the empress, but it was probably better not to be caught playing around in the fountain. Quickly they both jumped to the ground, grabbing their boots and ran for the nearest secret exit they could. All the while they continued to laugh as they laced their fingers together, holding on for dear life as they made their getaway. They made it back home without issue, where they raced upstairs to strip out of their wet clothes.

              Sparrow hummed a little as Julian took a moment to kiss her damp shoulder once it was in view. “Again, I think you are a bad influence, doctor. A very bad influence indeed.”

              Julian grinned as he kissed another bit of skin, taking a moment to leave a clear mark. “Oh, and what are you going to do about it?” He felt a rush of excitement as she grabbed the back of his neck pulling him down, allowing her to nip at his jaw. The night’s excitement was far from over.

…

              The next morning there was a knock at the clinic door. Julian was the one to answer and was promptly handed one of his boots by the palace guards who eyed him with a knowing look. At first Julian panicked out of old habit. But then the guard handed him his boot. “The empress expresses her dearest hopes that you enjoyed your little dance in the fountain last night,” the guard said in a very serious tone, “though she would like me to tell you that if you are to do it again, to inform her majesty so that she can join as well.”  It was a good thing that the guard couldn’t hear the cackle from Sparrow inside the door.