#it’s okay at least they managed to get together

[slapmeshigaraki]

౨ৎ "Are you scared, sweetheart?" ౨ৎ

♡ warnings: meanie!sylus x reader, spit, gunplay, daddy, condescension, improper evol use lmao, actually pretty tame ngl the dirty talk is kinda gross though, sylus is out of character in this in case that bothers you

♡ a/n: okay i lied and said i wasn't posting this until later in the week, but i finished editing it early so... idk happy valentine's day i guess. another old fic that i just edited. enjoy pretties !!

♡ Sylus doesn't ask you for much other than to leave him alone for a few hours on Sundays so he can clean his gun collection, but after a few interruptions too many, he decides that you can stick around just this once. Afterall, maybe you can help? ♡

“What is it?” he said after letting out a deep sigh, not bothering to look up at you through the lenses of his glasses. They sat loosely against the bridge of his nose as he looked down at his lap, softly polishing one of his most prized possessions: a gun. You weren’t sure whose death he’d pictured on the other end of it, but he treated it like the last bite of dessert, savoring it, keeping it hidden away for a special occasion. No one could touch it, look at it, breathe on it, except him. When Luke and Kieran gave you your first tour of the house, they wouldn’t even walk you down the hallway of the safe, scared that ‘Boss would smell your scents when he returned.’ It wasn’t until months later when he’d decided that your firearm wasn’t up to par any longer that he’d invited you in to 'shop' for a new one. That’s when you saw it, hung up on the wall in a glass case so high that only he could reach. It was wrapped in a fine silk fabric, a pristine black cherry gun whose make or model was so far beyond your pay grade that you’d never heard of it before.

Every Sunday he disappears into the safe for hours before dinner. He was not to be disturbed. It was the only thing that he was really particular about, but he needed it just to clear his head—some solace after a long week. So, the fact that you were interrupting him for the third time with a knock on the door was grating, to say the least.

“Nothing I just-“

“Is something on fire, darling?”

“No, Sylus.”

“Has someone managed to break into the house?”

“No.”

“Has Mephisto spontaneously combusted, leaving a feather lodged into one of your eyes?”

“No.”

“So, you can clearly see that I’m busy? Then I’ll ask again, what is it that you need?” His eyes still wouldn’t meet yours, eyebrows furrowing as he spoke, his tone strained.

“I just wanted to know if you wanted rice or mashed potatoes for dinner, but since you’re so caught up in tending to an inanimate object, I’ll decide for you.” He was snippier than usual, the darkening of his voice making it obvious he was not in the mood for witty banter.

“Be careful there, sweetheart. I’d hate for that pretty mouth to get you into trouble.”

“Or what? Will you get trigger happy and let that precious gun go off? No, of course not because we must keep it clean for a hypothetical threat that doesn’t fucking exist.”

“Kneel.” It wasn’t a question or a suggestion. It was a command, an order barked at an underling.

“Go fuck yourself,” You said, venom in your voice as you made a move back towards the door, hand clenched around the golden handle.

“If you make me get up to come catch you sweetheart, you’ll be sorry.” His eyes met yours for the first time, a fiery crimson illuminating your line of vision. His gaze was dark, challenging you to disobey him. When Sylus told someone to do something, they did it and you were no exception. You might bite back once in a while, but he always knew that you’d do what he told you to at the end of the day.

So, you kneeled, perhaps too slowly because it wasn’t before long that your knees were forced to buckle beneath you, Sylus making good use of his evol to bind your ankles together. The cool marble tile flooring chilled your flesh as your heartbeat ran wild, your mouth getting wetter with each second, practically drooling as if you were waiting to sink your teeth into your favorite meal. In the same breath, your hands were bound as well, moved behind your back against your will and stuck together like glue.

“Go on, crawl to me.” There was amusement staining his expression, a sinister smirk plastered across his face.

“What’s wrong, pretty girl? Can’t you get to me? A big strong girl like you with such a dirty mouth, surely you can move just a few feet on your own.” You relaxed your legs, letting your knees spread apart to rest them.

“I can’t…” You mumbled under your breath, unable to meet his glare any longer.

“Speak up, pet. You were so loud a few moments ago. Speak to me with that same tough voice now that you can't run away from me.” His slender fingers kept moving, cleaning the trophy with such grace. It was rhythmic, methodical, and calculated. It made you wet just to watch him, reminding you of how easily those same fingers could make you fall apart in his arms.

“I can’t move.”

“You can’t move?” he whined, pouting, mocking you without remorse.

“Well, I want you kneeling in front of me. So how do you suggest you get over here, sweetie?”

“Sylus…” You pled, which was slightly better than flat out begging.

“Tsk tsk, where are our manners?” The same red mist that bound your wrists and ankles now curled around your throat, not hesitating to squeeze abruptly, threatening to rob you of all of your air altogether.

“Please sir, help me.” Without letting another second pass, you were pulled into the air and inched over to him by the mist, roughly thrown back to the ground before him. His legs were spread in his seated position, gun resting on one, the other resting between your thighs.

“Thank you,” You said, hanging your head to avoid meeting his eyes.

“Aw, so polite. See what happens when you ask nicely? See how sweet I can be when you aren't a fucking brat?” With that, his foot adjusted, the tip of his perfectly polished leather shoe gently pressed against your core. You struggled not to writhe against him, desperately needing some form of friction to soothe the ache between your legs.

“Look at me, darling.” You did. The fervent desire in your eyes obvious, bottom lip bloody from biting it so hard, restraining yourself from any more unnecessary commentary.

“You look so needy like this, my foot pressed against your cunt, pouting underneath me. You look like you want to ask me for something? What is it, baby? Do you need something from your daddy, hm?” A whine fell from between your lips against your control as you tensed your legs, begging them not to move without permission.

“Please can I- can you fuck me please?”

“Can I fuck you? Do you think that I should dirty myself--” the hold on your neck tightened once more, “by fucking someone so pathetic that they’re getting off at the thought of grinding on my leg? Someone who can’t go a few hours without my attention shouldn’t get my cock inside of them. Someone like that shouldn’t get to feel my cum filling them up and spilling out of their tight little holes. They shouldn’t get to feel daddy’s tongue cleaning them up, kissing and sucking every inch on their pretty little pussy, should they?” You couldn’t get yourself to say no, but you knew yes wasn’t what he wanted to hear, so you stayed quiet. The cool sensation of metal burned your skin in an instant, tilting your jaw up, forcing your vision toward to ceiling, your eyes getting lost in the gold detailing of the mural above. Silence filled the space between you two, the only sound to be heard was the quickening of your heartbeat and the flip of the gun’s safety that was pressed against your flesh. A lump grew in your throat at the noise. You could feel the sole of his shoe pressing into you even more, gently moving back and forth as you bit your lip again.

“Let me hear you, baby. Tell daddy how good it feels, go on.”

“Th- Thank you daddy. That feels so good.”

“Say ‘thank you daddy for making my cunnie feel good.” You whined at the request, embarrassment causing tears to prick and sting at the corners of your eyes.

“You don’t want to use your words? How ungrateful.” It wasn’t long before the coolness against your jaw was gone. You dropped your gaze to look at him once again. The man before you was starved, his face void any sign of amusement. You wondered if this is what his prey felt when he looked at them, a lamb waiting to be eaten by the lion, forced to let him play with his food before he could be thoroughly satiated. He put the barrel of the gun against your lips now, his thumb languidly dancing on the trigger.

“Open up for me. Let me see that pretty tongue.” You hesitantly stuck your tongue out, the spit that had been building up in your mouth finally free to drip onto the metal as he pushed the barrel against the back of your throat. Your eyes widened at the sensation, the realization that his prized possession was being soiled by your drool far too humiliating. The tears flowed freely now. Your cheeks grew damp as you cried out against the obstruction in your mouth.

“Aw sweetheart, are you crying? Do you want to push your hips against me? Will that make your cunnie feel better?” You nodded, sniffling softly as you shifted uncomfortably, the realization that you couldn’t move at all finally catching up with you.

“Go ahead, hump my leg. You have permission. Make yourself feel good for daddy.” You tried to do as he asked, moving your hips slowly back and forth, the ache only growing in between your legs, but all you could think about was how dirty that gun was getting your mouth. Sobs fell from your lips now. His face contorted slightly at your cries.

“M-s-sorry daddy,” You struggled out, words muffled by the metal. He slowly pulled the gun out of your mouth,

“Are you scared, sweetheart? Is that why you’re dirtying this pretty face with tears, hm?” You felt his skin for the first time against yours, his free hand gently caressing your cheek, thumb making small circles on your flesh.

“No I just… I hate that I’m getting your gun dirty. I know how much you care about it. I’m sorry I just can’t stop drooling on it.” His fingers softly pressed under your eyes, catching the tears.

“Your spit is the sweetest thing I could use to clean this gun. It’s just an inanimate object, huh?" he said, being sure to use your choice of words exactly.

"Don’t cry pretty girl.” As he spoke, your wrists and ankles fell freely, the stress on your throat lifting as the red mist fell away.

“Come up here,” he said, fingers beckoning for you to stand and sit in his lap, your back pressed against his warm and muscular chest. Hooking his arm under your knee, he spread your legs apart, resting your ankle over the arm of the chair. His fingers wasted no time finding their way beneath your skirt, softly pulling the satin fabric of your panties to the side as he slipped a finger inside of you without warning.

“Oh my god,” You moaned out desperately as he hummed in amusement.

“I’m jealous. Your god is getting all of the praise, but I’m the one that's making this pussy leak all over my fingers. That doesn’t seem very fair now, does it?”

“Fuck, daddy thank you.” His pace quickened, every inch of his long and slender fingers making you gasp and writhe beneath his touch as you bucked against his palm.

“You are very welcome sweet girl. Next time you want daddy’s attention, you can just ask and we can skip all the theatrics, hm?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Aw, ‘yes, daddy. Thank you, daddy.'” Such pretty words from such a dirty mouth. The same mouth that stained my gun, isn’t that right?” he said. You threw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut as his thumb rubbed small circles on your clit, your wetness forming a spot on the fine fabric of his pants as you felt his cock growing beneath you. It only made you squirm more at the thought of its thickness filling you up after being empty throughout this whole ordeal.

“Relax for me.” This was the only warning you got before you felt that same cool metal slide between your folds, the ridges of the firearm serving as a new source of friction to grind on before Sylus slid his finger out of your walls, replacing it with the tip of the gun against your entrance. He felt you tense up immediately in his grasp.

“No no no,” he said, thumb gently caressing your inner thigh, his touch burning you with ease.

“Relax baby. Let daddy’s pussy open up for him, hm? I just want that sweet little hole’s juices to cleanse my gun thoroughly.” Your mouth hung open, moans escaping as he spoke. Your head rested against his shoulder, hair messily rubbing against his shirt. He pressed his soft lips against your forehead.

“That’s it, puppy. Gooood fucking girl, you're taking it so well for me, huh sweetheart?” his fingers found your clit once more, melting away any tension. Slowly, the tip of the gun pushed its way between your tender walls, your flesh clenching around it tightly, making it hard for him to slide it in and out of you.

“That’s a greedy pussy, isn’t it— holding onto anything that it can, my fingers, my cock, my tongue, my gun. She just wants to be filled, hm? She just loves daddy so much that anything he puts inside, she doesn’t want to let go of?”

“Y-yes daddy, she loves you. Please please please keep touching her.” So, he did. Slowly but surely, he pushed the metal in and out, salivating as he watched the way your flesh gripped on to the tip before he’d shove it back inside.

“Fuck--you wanna cum for me? Gonna make a big mess all over daddy’s gun, sweetheart? How fucking filthy,” You nodded as Sylus’s rough hands gripped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. Without warning, his spit filled your open mouth, slowly dripping from between your lips, coating your chest.

“Don’t swallow it. Keep my spit in your mouth when you cum for me. Stick your tongue out and cum all over me like a good little puppy,” He sped up even more now, the tip of the gun pushing against that spot inside of you that made your body heat up like white lightning that was trapped in a bottle and begging to be let out. He hit that spot over and over again, making your head fuzzy as he held your gaze captive with his scarlet eyes.

“Daddy—fuck—please, I don’t think I can take it.” You panicked, your hand desperately reaching for his wrist, hoping for some freedom from the incessant pleasure only for the mist to trap you once again, binding your hands up above your head and around Sylus’s neck, pressing your bodies even closer together.

“Shit—you’re so wet, you’re making a puddle in my lap. Are you gonna squirt around my gun, baby?” He said, emphasizing his point with a sharp push of the metal against you g-spot.

“No I- I can’t. It’s too embarrassing please don’t make me.”

“Come on, listen to your daddy and let go all over me. Squirt, cum, cry, I don’t care, but I’m gonna pull it all out of you either way. So, give it to me, it’s mine. I worked so hard for it,” he said, fingers finding their way into your open mouth, but you didn’t dare close your lips around them, just letting the spit drip down onto yourself and he bullied your pussy over and over again until you just couldn’t take it anymore. Tears streamed from your eyes once more as you let go. Your wetness spilled all over his lap, pulling guttural screams from your throat that were muffled by his hands.

“Good girl, that’s it. Come on, let go for daddy, baby. Poor baby, so pent up. It must feel so good to let go now, huh?” Streams of ‘yes’ and ‘thank you’ echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls as you squirmed against his grasp. He pressed his full lips to your face again as he pulled his finger and his firearm from your holes slowly. You watched him with tired eyes, as you were covered in your own wetness. The gun dripped with your juices, but he wasted no time putting the metal to his own mouth this time, flattening his tongue against the barrel of the gun and licking it clean.

“You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted, sweetheart. Maybe you should let you help me clean my guns more often.” Dazed, and far too exhausted to protest, you closed your eyes, resting your head against him once again, your hands finally free. He pressed small kisses against your sweaty face, gently brushing any hair from your skin before you spoke up again.

“T-thank you, Sylus.”

“The pleasure is all mine, pretty girl.”

[nonightingalesinberkelysquare]

WARNING FOR GOOD OMENS SPOILERS!!!!

FURTHER SLIGHT SPOILER WARNING FOR THE FOLLOWING BOOKS: The Bone Clock by David Mitchell, You Only Call When You're In Trouble by Stephen Mcauley, and Bibliomaniac by Robin Ince.

Edit: Photos by @polychromicron-persei-8 !!!!!

So I'm sure a lot of the fandom have seen the pictures posted by a very lucky fan who saw the production of good omens happening out in Scotland today!!

However what I'm not seeing people talk about is a hidden gem in the reblogs.

SOMEONE HAD MANAGED TO GET A PICTURE OF THE BOOKS IN THE WINDOW!!!

Naturally, I had to go and do my research to see if these books give us any clues or serve any other purposes other than decorative purposes

AND LET ME TELL YOU

These are the the books visible in the window:

I'll go through them one by one

(Please bear in mind, I haven't read any of these books personally!! The only information I have on them are the little bits I found online in a very rushed attempt at research!!!)

Okay firstly

"The Bone Clocks" by David Mitchell

Now, this is the one that I struggled to make sense of the most out of the three.

The story appears to follow a runaway teenage girl who is a "lightning rod for psychic phenomena." These visions are said to reorder reality and send her into a real life nightmare.

However,

It also states that there is a boy who eventually crosses paths with her and who's story "comes together in moments of grace and extraordinary wonder"

As I said, I've never read these books and the only link I could begin to make with this is the idea of a "supernatural being meets another supernatural being and what they can do when they're together defies anyone's wildest dreams" story, similar to what we have seen and could see in GO3.

The next book is where it gets FARRRR more interesting (in my opinion)

NOW

THE TITLE? INTERESTING ASF.

IS AZIRAPHALE IN TROUBLE? OR EVEN CROWLEY?

The quotes are literally taken from the amazon listing itself, but I'll just point out the bits that stuck out to me personally.

☆ "is it ever okay to stop caring for others and start living for yourself?"

And I'm skipping a HUUUUGE chunk of the story here so apologies

☆ "Tom does what he's always done - answers the call."

☆ "Thus begins a journey that will change everyone's life and demonstrate the beauty or dysfunction (or both?) of the ties that bind families together and sometimes strangle them."

THAT LAST QUOTE REALLY STICKS OUT TO ME. Personally, I'd say that could possibly relate to the heaven and hell divides?

But furthermore, we were told prior to the whole NG situation that Aziraphale and Crowley aren't talking.. so could that mean that as soon as they begin speaking once again, they have the power to leave heaven and hell behind? Perhaps stop the divides?

And last, but certainly not least

Now, keep in mind that this particular book is nonfiction and appears to be written from the authors own point of view as he aims to visit 100 bookshops in 100 days.

This has a relatively short description from what I can see right now so I'll put it in here

"Bibliomaniac takes the reader on a journey across Britain as Robin explores his lifelong love of bookshops and books - and also tries to find out just why he can never have enough of them.

It is the story of an addiction and a romance, and also of an occasional points failure."

This one interested me SO much because it SCREAMS Aziraphale character development sort of thing? You know?

I really struggled to find any spoilers for this one whatsoever but one website did mention the author's love for vintage books, which he only ever reads as and when, as opposed to focusing on just one book.

I just thought this was SO SO SOOOOO interesting, and if anybody has any differing thoughts/interpretations or has even read the books, the comment section is a safe space to do so!!! All theories/suggestions are welcomed (any hate WILL be blocked, don't test me).

OR MAYBE THIS ALL MEANS NOTHING AND IM JUST CLOWNING FAR TOO HARD?!??!??!

[greengoblinswifey]

Pining—Luigi Mangione x Fem!Reader

summary— Luigi’s loved you since childhood but never had the courage to confess. In university, he finally gets close to you, only to watch you with someone else. When your breakup gives him a chance, he lays it all out. Based on this request.

warnings— none! just jealousy, unrequited love(for a bit), friends to lovers, fluff, L bombs.

Luigi had been watching you for as long as he could remember. It wasn’t in a creepy way at least, he hoped not. He just couldn’t help it. You were everywhere, pierced into the background of his life.

From his bedroom window, he saw you sometimes, sitting on your porch, airpods in, completely lost in whatever song from your playlist. He watched you walk your dog through the neighborhood, the pep in your step making you look so effortlessly graceful. And every time you laughed at something your friend said, he swore he could feel the sound settle in his chest, making it harder to breathe.

But you were untouchable. And he was just the guy next door.

Going to an all boys school meant there were barely any chances to talk to you. A few stolen glances when you were outside, a quick “hey” if you happened to make eye contact while passing by—nothing more. He wanted more. He wanted to know what made you smile like that, what songs you always had playing in your airpods, if your hands were as soft as they looked.

He was down bad.

So when fate, or maybe just sheer dumb luck reunited you in university, he didn’t know what to do with himself.

He saw you across the quad one day, laughing with a friend, and his heart nearly stopped. He thought about pretending he didn’t see you, that maybe if he just turned and walked the other way, he wouldn’t make a fool of himself. But then, as if the universe had been waiting for this moment, you turned.

And you saw him.

“Luigi?”

You said his name like you were surprised he was real.

His breath caught. “Yeah,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

A smile spread across your lips, so bright, so familiar. “Oh my God, it’s been years! I can’t believe you go here!”

And just like that, you became friends.

Well. Sort of.

At first, it was almost painful. He could barely look at you without his face turning red. Every time you sat next to him in the library or playfully pushed him during a joke, he had to remind himself to breathe. You made it easy, though. You didn’t treat him like he was some awkward mess. You talked to him like you had always known him, like he belonged in your world.

The problem?

You had a boyfriend.

And he hated the guy.

Not because he was jealous—okay, maybe a little—but because he could see it. The way your laughter didn’t quite reach your eyes when you talked about him. The way you sometimes hesitated before answering your phone. The way you deserved better.

Luigi wasn’t stupid. He knew he had no right to feel this way. But when he saw the way that guy held your waist like you were just another prize, when he saw you wipe at your eyes after an argument over the phone, it took everything in him not to step in and tell you that you didn’t have to settle for that.

Then, one day, you didn’t.

You showed up at his dorm, puffy eyed and exhausted.

“We broke up,” you said, voice shaky.

And even though he had been waiting—waiting for this moment for what felt like his whole life, he didn’t smile. He didn’t celebrate. He just opened the door wider and let you in.

That night, he let you cry. He let you rant. He let you fall asleep on his bed while he sat on the floor, watching over you like he always had from afar.

And then, slowly, things shifted. You started spending more time with him. The laughter came back, the light in your eyes started to shine a little brighter. And for the first time in years, he let himself hope.

One evening, as you sat together on his dorm bed, scrolling through your phone, you sighed. “I feel like I wasted so much time.”

“You didn’t,” he said.

You turned to him, eyebrow raised. “Oh? And why’s that?”

His fingers curled into his shirt. He knew this was the moment.

“Because,” he said, voice steady, “you were always going to end up here. With me.”

Silence stretched between you. His heart pounded.

Then, you smiled. Soft, like how he always wished you’d smile for him.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I think so too.”

Luigi’s heart was beating too fast. Too hard. He could feel it against his ribs, hammering like it was trying to break free.

You were still looking at him, eyes soft, waiting.

And he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“I—God, I need to say this,” he blurted out, running a hand through his curly hair. His leg bounced anxiously. “I’ve liked you forever. Like—forever. Since we were kids. Since before I even knew what it meant to have a crush on someone. I used to see you walking your dog, and I’d just stand at my window like an idiot, hoping you’d look up. I’d see you with your friends and wonder what it’d be like if I was the one making you laugh. And then I got to university, and you were here, and I thought—” He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “I thought maybe it was a sign or something. But then you had a boyfriend, and I had to j-just sit there and act like I was okay with it, like I wasn’t dying every time you said his name.”

You blinked, lips slightly parted, taking it all in.

“I—” he exhaled shakily, rubbing his hands over his face. “I love you. I’ve loved you for years. I just never thought I’d get the chance to tell you.”

His breath was uneven, nerves twisting inside him, and he was just about to start apologizing, maybe even backpedal, when you moved.

You swung your legs over him, settling onto his lap. His breath hitched.

Your hands smoothed over his chest, right where his heart was trying to beat out of control. He swore it skipped when you finally spoke.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

His lips parted, eyes wide. “You—?”

You smiled, pressing your palm a little firmer against his chest. “Yeah, Luigi. I do.”

For once, he was speechless.

You tilted your head, searching his face. “Breathe, Lu.”

He let out a shaky exhale, his body finally beginning to relax under your touch. His hands came up hesitantly, resting on your waist.

And then, finally, finally, you kissed him.

It was slow, warm, and when your fingers slid into his curls, a soft sound came from his chest. Years of waiting, wanting, hoping—it all melted into this single moment.

You pulled back to press your forehead against his. “Everything’s okay now.”

He nodded, exhaling softly. “Yeah,” he murmured, lips still brushing over yours. “Perfect.”

But then he gently cupped your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks as he studied you, his eyes filled with something deep and unwavering. “I wanna do this right,” he admitted softly. “I’ve waited so long for you, and I don’t wanna rush anything. You deserve more than that. More than me just jumping in without thinking. I want to take my time with you. I want to do everything the right way, because you—” He paused. “You mean everything to me.”

Your heart swelled, your fingers tightening in his hair as you kissed him again, slow and sweet.

“I want that too,” you murmured against his lips.

Luigi smiled, pulling you impossibly closer. “Good,”he whispered. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

And just like that, the story he had been waiting to write finally began.

[onceinamillionposter]

Yandere!L&D band headcannons

a/n : i literally just felt silly so I mean why not

Lead Vocalists : Rafayel

Drums: Sylus

Guitarist : Zayne

Guitarist : Xavier

Lead rapper : Caleb

With you as the manager !

Right off the bat, it was hell. You got fired from your last gig because your last managing job didn’t quite work out with a whole money laundering scheme being run behind the scenes and you having no idea, you were broke to say the least.

That was before you got that DM, the old manager of the L&D boys is retiring , and apparently you would be a good fit- although your face was all over the news. You practically jumped to the opportunity, signing your life away as you knew it.

You got situated slowly, being introduced to the members - Caleb and you hit it right off the bat , as well as Xavier and Rafayel but Zayne and Sylus were quite distant.

You learnt about them, Caleb would often pick on the others , Rafayel would be trouble just for the fun of it , Zayne was busy reading books and sketching new designs for the band and Sylus was often talking to two twins? You never pried and he never told. Xavier would always be asleep on the common room couch but would wake up when you were desperate for things done.

You had gotten used to the routine, managing accounts would have Rafayel sitting scrolling on his phone in your office often asking ,”Do your eyes not get tired looking at the screen? Why don’t we just go out!” Often you were able to get him to stop bothering you but sometimes he would drag you out regardless making it a bit too intimate.

When it was spring cleaning day , you and Zayne often bonded in silence, sometimes you asked the him about his interests, learning he’s a fan of medicine and drawing anatomy which garnered your attention so you would discuss about what you knew.

Sylus and you would work out at the gym, turning into a competition sometimes. He would help you box and you would show him pilates which he never (openly) struggled with. Sometimes you guys would go on morning runs - very early runs just so people don’t get the wrong idea.

Caleb, and you would bond over board games - monopoly, uno, hell even chess! Anything to keep the day moving. Also investing in the newest consoles (he has the bank of a billionaire he just wanted to tease) , and surprising you with them became normal. Just dance was an interesting time!

And finally Xavier, you and him watched movies and shows together and it was so fun - for you - often enough Xavier just fell asleep but when he woke up, you would cook together or at least try. He burnt more than cooked but that way okay, cause in the end the cupcakes were edible- sure they weren’t the best but they were consumable (when you look past the dark crust)!

You usually had to help them get things set up, stages, events and outfits. Everytime the tailor came in you figured that you would be sitting in a different room but for some reason or the other, everyone - minus Zayne - found a reason for you to be taking their measurements. Shirtless , might I add.

Rafayel claimed the tailor was incompetent - as if a novice like yourself would be any better , Caleb said that the tailor kept scratching at him - you took a peak at the nails and they were the dullest acrylic’s you had ever seen , Xavier said they made him uncomfortable but they had a squeaky clean record last time you checked and Sylus - ever honest - simply said “I hate them.” (you had to make them sign a non disclosure agreement after all of this)

One way or another you slowly were apart of their daily routines. But then the stranger things came, the weird lack of dating claims, back before you became manager there was tons of women that were accused of being with them but suddenly it was quiet. Too quiet, and then the first leak of you came with you and Sylus in an uncomfortably ,weirdly, intimate position. Slowly the media turned heads, it was strange it had been awhile since they had been in. any romantic spectacles and the media love drama.

Another time was Rafayel holding your hand and you holding his plushies he won at the arcade, him dragging you to the next stand. At the time it was anything but romantic but now it looked like a common date? To say the media blew up was a surprise, you had to practically beg Rafayel to make a video clarifying it was just getting him new stuff for his room.

Again a stupid photo really, Caleb holding your clip board so high you had to get on your tippy toes, it was backstage so you had to guess it was the people backstage who were working that took that awfully blurry photo- a pain it was really.

You and Zayne- to your surprise- also got a photo! Hooray! You took him out to satisfy his sweet tooth, he insisted he couldn’t work without it - (he just wanted you to himself) - maybe it was the setting? It being a kitty cafe but you know what - you still don’t know but it garnered attention , another tweet to the main profile for the boys.

But the worst, Xavier resting his head on your shoulder after a long day at the studio. He was so close, too close for you to even make an excuse at the time. But either way the criticism rolled in,

“L&D boys pass around,” “Manager managing all 5 boys”, “Common whore?” It frustrated you so deeply you wished to quit the job as much as you were payed , deciding it wasn’t worth it. But you didn’t know , they weren’t giving you up like that. Not when they slowly loved you, not yet.

[movingmusically]

can u pls austin x wife!reader or pregnant!reader?

Word Count: 7,237

Masterlist

All of Us

Married life with Austin had been a dream—mostly. Sure, there were the occasional quirks to adjust to, like his habit of leaving guitar picks everywhere or the way he somehow managed to steal half your blanket in the middle of the night. But those small annoyances were overshadowed by the warmth of being with someone who loved you deeply and made you laugh every single day.

Still, life hadn’t slowed down after the wedding. If anything, it had sped up. Austin’s career was booming, and your own schedule wasn’t far behind. Between your work commitments and his time spent on set or promoting his projects, your days felt like a never-ending whirlwind. Yet, even with the chaos, there’d been moments of quiet clarity—conversations about your future, about the family you both dreamed of having one day.

The decision to stop using contraception had been an easy one, even if it felt a little surreal at first. You weren’t actively trying for a baby, but you were open to the idea. “If it happens, it happens,” Austin had said with that easy smile of his, his hand warm and reassuring on yours. “And if it doesn’t right away, that’s okay too. We’ve got time.”

You’d carried those words with you ever since, a quiet reassurance whenever the thought of parenthood felt overwhelming. But in the back of your mind, you’d assumed it would take time—months, maybe even a year or two. Enough time to keep the idea comfortably abstract.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Lately, though, something felt… off. It wasn’t anything obvious, just a subtle shift you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You felt unusually tired, dragging yourself out of bed each morning despite a full night’s sleep. Your appetite was off too—some mornings you couldn’t stomach breakfast, while other days you found yourself craving the strangest combinations of food. And then there was coffee. The thought of it made your stomach turn, which was almost laughable considering how much you normally relied on it to function.

You brushed it off at first, blaming it on stress or a passing bug. But it was hard to ignore the way you felt during brunch with a close friend one weekend. As you sat across from her, pushing a perfectly good cappuccino to the side, she gave you a curious look.

“You okay?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “You’ve been looking a little pale lately. And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’ve seen you skip coffee twice now.”

You waved her off, trying to muster a casual smile. “I’m fine. Just tired, I think.”

Her brows knit together, her concern evident. “Tired, queasy, and avoiding coffee? Those are classic signs of pregnancy, you know.”

You froze, her words landing with an unexpected weight. “I—what?”

She shrugged, clearly not thinking much of her comment. “I’m just saying, maybe you should check. Stranger things have happened.”

The idea hung in the air between you, filling the silence that followed. She moved on to another topic, chatting away about her plans for the week, but you barely heard her. Your mind was racing, replaying her words over and over.

Could I be?

The thought unsettled you, not because it was unwelcome but because it hadn’t even crossed your mind until now. You and Austin had been so focused on life as it was—work, travel, settling into your marriage—that the possibility of pregnancy felt like a distant concept. And yet, as you sat there, your hand resting absently on your stomach, you realised it wasn’t as impossible as you’d thought.

Your thoughts drifted back to when Austin had come home for a whirlwind weekend visit about a month ago. It had been one of those rare breaks in his filming schedule, and the two of you had made the most of every second. You’d spent lazy mornings in bed, stolen kisses in the kitchen, and tangled limbs in the quiet intimacy of nights that felt too short.

You’d even joked as he packed to leave again, “Don’t get too comfortable on set. I’ll need you to come home and warm up my side of the bed soon.” He’d grinned, pulling you close and murmuring something cheeky about how he’d done more than warm the bed. The memory made your cheeks flush now, the timing suddenly clicking into place in your mind. Could it really have happened then?

By the time brunch ended, you couldn’t shake the idea. As much as you wanted to dismiss it, the possibility lingered, growing stronger with every passing moment.

The idea of being pregnant was impossible to ignore now. The symptoms, your friend’s teasing comment, the gnawing curiosity—it all pointed to one possibility. But even as the thought settled in your mind, you felt a flicker of doubt. It could be nothing. Just stress. Or something I ate. It doesn’t have to mean…

Still, the thought lingered. By the time you got home that evening, the nagging question had grown too loud to ignore. You paced around the living room, chewing your bottom lip as your mind raced. Part of you wanted to wait—wait until Austin was home so you could do this together. You’d always pictured it that way, the two of you holding hands and staring at the little test stick together, waiting for the result.

But he wasn’t here. He was halfway across the country on set, wrapping up the last few days of a gruelling shoot. And though you knew he’d want to be part of this moment, you couldn’t wait any longer. You needed to know.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you grabbed your keys and headed to the nearest pharmacy. The fluorescent lights felt harsher than usual as you scanned the shelves, your eyes darting between the rows of pregnancy tests. There were so many options—some promising fast results, others boasting extra accuracy. You grabbed a box at random, barely reading the label, and hurried to the counter.

The drive home felt surreal, the little box on the passenger seat seeming heavier than it should. You couldn’t believe this was happening. Just a few days ago, pregnancy hadn’t even crossed your mind, and now you were about to find out if your entire world was about to change.

Back at home, you set the test on the bathroom counter and stared at it for what felt like an eternity. The instructions were simple enough—pee on the stick, wait three minutes—but the weight of what those three minutes might reveal made your hands tremble. What if it’s positive? What if it’s negative? What if this is all a big mistake and I’m just overthinking everything?

You exhaled shakily and opened the box, your fingers fumbling slightly with the wrapper. “Okay,” you murmured to yourself, trying to steady your nerves. “It’s just a test. You can do this.”

The seconds that followed felt both rushed and agonisingly slow. You did what the instructions said, placed the test stick on the counter, and set a timer on your phone. Then you sat down on the edge of the bathtub, hands clasped tightly in your lap as you stared at the little white stick.

Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts at once. You thought about Austin’s easy smile and the way he always reassured you whenever life felt overwhelming. You thought about the quiet conversations you’d had late at night, whispering about what the future might hold. You thought about how surreal it all felt—this tiny piece of plastic holding the answer to a question that could change everything.

The timer buzzed, jolting you out of your thoughts. Your heart felt like it might beat out of your chest as you stood up and reached for the test. For a moment, you hesitated, your hand hovering just above it. This is it, you thought. Whatever happens, everything changes now.

With a deep breath, you picked it up and looked at the result.

Two lines. Positive.

You stared at it, your breath catching in your throat. A wave of emotions crashed over you all at once—disbelief, excitement, nervousness, and something you could only describe as pure joy. “Oh my god,” you whispered, the words trembling on your lips. “Oh my god.”

You sank onto the floor, the test still clutched in your hand as tears pricked your eyes. It felt surreal, like a dream you hadn’t fully allowed yourself to imagine yet. You were going to have a baby. You and Austin were going to have a baby.

For a moment, you let yourself sit there, basking in the quiet wonder of it all. Then the realisation hit you: Austin didn’t know yet. The thought made your heart race all over again, but this time, it was with excitement. He’d be home in just a few days, and you wanted to tell him in person. This wasn’t something you could share over the phone, not when it was this important.

You stood up, your mind already racing with ideas. If there was one thing you knew, it was that Austin deserved to find out in a way that was as special as the moment itself. Something meaningful, something that would capture just how much this moment meant to you both.

The day Austin was due home, you could barely contain your anticipation. You had cleaned the house twice, set the table for his favourite dinner, and even spent longer than usual deciding what to wear. The news you carried felt like a treasure burning a hole in your pocket, and you wanted everything to be perfect.

When you heard the familiar rumble of his car pulling into the driveway, your heart jumped into your throat. You hurried to the door, your hands trembling slightly as you opened it just in time to see him stepping out of the car, his bag slung over one shoulder. He looked tired but still so impossibly handsome, his broad shoulders and easy smile lighting up the fading daylight. The sight of him made you realise just how much you’d missed him.

“Hey, baby,” he called out, his voice warm and familiar, the sound washing over you like a balm.

You didn’t even wait for him to close the car door. You rushed down the porch steps and into his arms, wrapping yourself around him tightly. He dropped his bag to the ground, laughing softly as he pulled you close, burying his face in your hair.

“God, I missed you,” he murmured, his voice low and full of emotion. His arms tightened around you, one hand stroking your back as if to reassure himself you were really there.

“I missed you too,” you said, your voice muffled against his shoulder. You felt his lips press against your temple, soft and lingering, before he pulled back just enough to look at you.

“You’re even more beautiful than I remembered,” he said, his voice a little hoarse as his fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face.

You laughed lightly, your heart fluttering under the weight of his gaze. “You’re just exhausted,” you teased. “Come inside—I made your favourite.”

His eyes lit up, and he kissed your forehead before grabbing his bag. “You didn’t have to do all that,” he said, following you into the house. “But I’m not complaining.”

Inside, the warm, familiar scent of home surrounded you both. The table was set, soft music played from the speaker in the corner, and the faint glow of candles gave the room an inviting warmth. He paused to take it all in, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’ve outdone yourself,” he said, his voice tinged with gratitude.

You shrugged, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling in your chest. “You deserve it. It was a long shoot.”

“The longest,” He set his bag down and turned to you, his hands sliding around your waist as he pulled you close. His lips were warm and familiar, the kind of kiss that made the rest of the world fade away. You melted into him, your hands curling around the back of his neck, your fingers threading into his hair.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes half-lidded as he smiled softly. “I still can’t believe I’m home,” he murmured, his voice like a warm embrace. “Being away from you… I hated it.”

Your heart pounded as you smiled up at him, your hands resting on his chest. It was now or never. “We hated it too,” you said, your voice soft but deliberate.

His brow furrowed slightly, the words taking a moment to register. “We?” he repeated, tilting his head as he looked at you.

You bit your lip, a nervous laugh escaping as you stepped back and reached into your pocket. “We,” you echoed, holding up the pregnancy test.

The moment the test came into view, his eyes widened. He blinked, as if unsure whether he was seeing things correctly, before slowly reaching out to take it from your hand. He stared at the little screen, his breath catching audibly, before looking back at you.

“Are you…” he started, his voice trembling. “Are we…”

You nodded, tears springing to your eyes. “We’re having a baby,” you said, your voice breaking with emotion.

He stared at you for a beat longer, the weight of your words sinking in. Then, without warning, a brilliant smile broke across his face, and a shaky laugh escaped his lips. “Oh my god,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair. “This is real?”

“Yes,” you said, laughing through your tears. “It’s real.”

He let out a breathless laugh, dropping the test on the counter as he swept you into his arms. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re going to have a baby.”

You held onto him tightly, feeling the warmth of his embrace as his body trembled slightly. He buried his face in your neck, and you could feel the dampness of his tears against your skin. “I love you so much,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “You’ve just made me the happiest man in the world.”

“I love you too,” you said, pulling back just enough to look at him. His cheeks were wet with tears, his eyes bright with a mix of disbelief and joy.

“We’re going to be parents,” he said, his hands moving to frame your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, then your lips. “This is everything I ever wanted.”

You laughed softly, sliding your hands into his hair as you kissed him back. “It’s everything I ever wanted too.”

For the rest of the evening, you stayed close to him, basking in the joy of the moment. Dinner was an afterthought; you spent most of the time on the couch, his arms wrapped securely around you as he asked a million questions about how you’d been feeling, how long you’d known, and what the next steps were.

As the night wore on, you felt a sense of calm settle over you. The secret you’d been carrying was now shared, and seeing Austin’s reaction had eased every worry you’d had. This was the beginning of something new, something beautiful, and you were ready to face it together.

*

The first ultrasound appointment marked the next big milestone, one that felt surreal even as you sat in the clinic waiting room. Austin had cleared his schedule the moment the date was confirmed, insisting that no rehearsal or meeting could be more important.

The two of you were seated side by side, his knee bouncing slightly as he held your hand. “You nervous?” you asked softly, glancing at him.

He looked at you with a small, sheepish smile. “A little. It’s just… we’re going to see them,” he said, his voice catching slightly. “I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Me neither,” you admitted, your own nerves bubbling under the surface. “But it’s exciting too, right?”

“Exciting doesn’t even cover it,” he said, leaning over to kiss the top of your head.

When your name was called, Austin stood so quickly that he knocked over the magazine he’d been pretending to read. You giggled as he sheepishly bent to pick it up, his hand finding yours again as you walked together toward the exam room.

The technician greeted you warmly, explaining each step of the process as you got situated. Austin stood next to you, his hand never leaving yours, his eyes flicking between you and the screen with equal parts anticipation and awe.

When the image finally appeared on the monitor and the sound of the heartbeat filled the room, the air seemed to shift. It was a sound so steady, so alive, that it sent a shiver down your spine.

“That’s your baby,” the technician said with a kind smile, pointing to the tiny figure on the screen.

Austin let out a shaky breath, his grip on your hand tightening. “That’s… that’s them,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His free hand came up to wipe at his eyes, and when he turned to look at you, his face was lit with a mix of wonder and joy. “That’s our baby,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. Instead, you squeezed his hand, letting your tears fall freely as you both stared at the screen, watching the tiny heartbeat that had changed everything.

That evening, as you sat curled up together on the couch, Austin couldn’t stop looking at the ultrasound photos. He held one up, studying it intently before glancing at you. “Okay, we need a nickname,” he announced suddenly.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “A nickname?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding firmly. “We can’t just keep saying ‘the baby.’ They need something special, something that fits.”

You tilted your head, considering his words. “Alright, Mr. Creative. What do you suggest?”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Bean,” he said, holding up the photo again. “They’re tiny, they’re cute, and it just… feels right.”

You laughed, shaking your head but secretly loving the name. “Bean,” you repeated, testing it out. “Alright. Bean it is.”

From that night on, Bean became a part of your everyday vocabulary. Austin greeted your belly every morning with a soft “Good morning, Bean,” and every evening, he read stories or played music to your growing bump. His guitar, his piano, even his voice—all of it became a nightly ritual, his way of connecting with the little life you were creating together.

One evening, as you both lay on the couch watching a film, you felt it—a small but unmistakable flutter low in your belly. You froze, your hand instinctively pressing to the spot.

“What’s wrong?” Austin asked, immediately alert.

You grabbed his hand, your heart racing as you placed it where you’d felt the movement. “Just… wait,” you whispered.

A few seconds passed. Then it happened again—a tiny kick, soft but distinct. Austin’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping slightly. “Was that…” he started, his voice barely above a whisper. “Was that a kick?”

You nodded, tears springing to your eyes. “Yeah. That was them.”

He let out a breathless laugh, his hand pressing gently against your belly. “Hi, Bean,” he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. “It’s me. Your dad. I can’t wait to meet you.”

The kicks became more frequent after that, each one a little reminder of the life growing inside you. Austin couldn’t get enough of them, often resting his hand on your belly whenever he was near, his face lighting up every time he felt a movement.

When a brief press tour took him away for a few weeks, the separation was harder than either of you anticipated. But even from afar, he found ways to stay connected. Every night, without fail, he FaceTimed you, his guitar in hand as he sang softly or read aloud.

"It’s Dad," he’d say, his voice warm even through the screen." Just checking in to see how you’re doing.”

You’d laugh, your hand resting on your belly as you said, “I think they’re listening. They always move when they hear your voice.”

By the time he returned, you were both ready to tackle the next big project: the nursery. The two of you spent hours picking out decorations, arguing over paint colours, and laughing as you assembled tiny pieces of furniture.

“You know,” Austin said one evening as he struggled to attach a crib railing, “I’m starting to think Bean might just have to sleep in a cardboard box.”

You laughed, leaning against the doorframe as you watched him. “Don’t give up now. You’re doing great, Dad.”

He looked up at you, his expression softening as he smiled. “I still can’t believe this is happening,” he said, his voice quiet. “We’re going to be parents.”

You walked over, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We are,” you said softly. “And I think we’re going to be pretty good at it.”

As the nursery slowly came together, it became more than just a room—it was a symbol of the life you were building together. Every little detail, from the fairy lights strung along the ceiling to the shelves filled with tiny books, was a labour of love.

Standing together in the finished room, your hand resting on your belly and Austin’s arm around your shoulders, you felt a deep sense of peace. “It’s perfect,” you whispered, leaning into him.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his other hand covering yours. “It’ll be even more perfect when Bean’s here,” he said, his voice filled with quiet wonder.

And in that moment, as you stood there dreaming about the future, you knew he was right.

*

Still, no amount of Austin’s sweetness could stop the physical toll of late pregnancy from getting to you. One evening, as you were getting ready for bed, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and stopped, groaning audibly.

“I feel huge,” you groaned, turning sideways to examine yourself. “I look like I swallowed a beach ball.”

From the bed, Austin looked up from his book, his gaze softening as he took you in. He set the book aside and got up, crossing the room to stand behind you. His hands slid around your waist—well, as much as they could with the bump in the way—and he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You’re not huge,” he said, his tone playful as his eyes danced with mischief. “You’re radiant.”

You rolled your eyes, still frowning at the mirror. “Radiant? Austin, I look like a science experiment gone wrong. My ankles are swollen, my back is killing me, and I haven’t seen my feet in weeks.”

He smirked, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “You’re carrying our baby,” he murmured, his hands dropping to cradle your bump. “That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You snorted. “Sexy? I’m wearing mismatched pyjamas and haven’t shaved my legs in days.”

He turned you gently to face him, his eyes twinkling with a mix of affection and mischief. “Still sexy,” he said, trailing kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. “And for the record, I don’t think Bean cares about your legs.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound turning into a soft sigh as his hands moved to rub your lower back. “Fine,” you said, leaning into him. “You win this round.”

That wasn’t the only way Austin had been taking care of you. On nights when sleep felt impossible—when the baby seemed to think your bladder was a trampoline or your hips ached from the weight of it all—he’d do everything in his power to make you comfortable. One night, after watching you fidget and sigh for the fifth time in an hour, he rolled out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom. When he came back, steam followed him.

“Bath’s ready,” he announced, holding out his hand. “Come on.”

You let him guide you into the bathroom, the warm scent of lavender filling the air. The tub was filled just enough for you to soak without feeling like a beached whale. As you eased in, Austin climbed in behind you, his legs bracketing yours as his hands moved to rub your shoulders.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you murmured, leaning back against his chest.

“Of course I did,” he said, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You’re growing a whole human. The least I can do is help you take a load off.”

“Besides, I like taking care of you,” he replied simply, his hands moving to your bump as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

As his hands traced soothing circles over your belly, the two of you fell into an easy conversation about names. It had become a favourite topic of late, though you hadn’t settled on anything yet.

“What about Lori?” you suggested softly, tilting your head back to look at him. “If it’s a girl.”

Austin stilled for a moment, his eyes glistening as he met your gaze. “After my mom?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your hand covering his where it rested on your bump. “She meant so much to you. And I know she’d be proud of you, of us. It feels right.”

His throat worked as he swallowed hard, clearly trying to keep his emotions in check. “I think she’d love that,” he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

The moment stretched between you, warm and tender, until Bean decided to interrupt with a particularly enthusiastic kick. You both froze before bursting into laughter.

“Guess they like the name,” Austin said, grinning as he pressed his palm against the spot where the baby had kicked. “Hey, Bean. You’ve got good taste.”

As the weeks passed, the anticipation grew, but so did the love and humour that kept you both grounded.

*

The due date came and went without so much as a twinge of labour pains. You’d counted down the days on your calendar, convinced that by now you’d be holding your baby, but Bean had other plans. The doctor reassured you that everything looked fine and that it was perfectly normal for first babies to take their time—though they did mention that if nothing happened in another two weeks, they’d induce labour.

It wasn’t exactly the news you wanted to hear, especially since patience wasn’t exactly your strong suit. “Two weeks?” you groaned on the drive home, slumped in the passenger seat. “That feels like a lifetime.”

Austin, ever the optimist, glanced over with a calm smile. “Hey, your mom said she always went past her due date with you and your brothers. Maybe Bean’s just taking after you.”

You gave a dramatic sigh, though his hand finding yours on the armrest softened your mood. “If that’s the case, Bean owes me a big apology for making me this uncomfortable.”

“I’ll make sure they’re on their best behaviour when they get here,” Austin said with a wink, bringing your hand to his lips for a kiss. “But for now, you’re stuck with me.”

As the days passed the news of your overdue baby had spread among your family and friends, and with it came an avalanche of unsolicited advice on how to speed things along. Your phone pinged with messages every few minutes, each suggestion more bizarre than the last.

“Your sister says I should try eating spicy food,” you told Austin one evening, scrolling through yet another message as you sat with your swollen feet propped up on the coffee table. “And my cousin swears by bouncing on a yoga ball.”

Austin, seated beside you with his guitar in hand, raised an eyebrow. “What about the one from your aunt? Didn’t she say something about pineapple?”

“Pineapple, acupuncture, castor oil... oh, and Claire suggested a long walk and warm baths.” You let out an exasperated sigh.

Austin chuckled, setting down his guitar and shifting closer. “Anything else?”

You hesitated, biting your lip as you scrolled through one particularly cheeky message. “Well, uh… Ashley had a suggestion that worked when she was pregnant with with Jupiter.”

“Oh, this should be good. What is it?” He grinned, giving you a playful nudge.

“She said… sex might help.” You glanced at him from under your lashes, feeling a blush creep up your neck. “Something about the hormones and stimulating labour.”

Austin’s grin turned downright devilish. “Now that’s advice I can get behind.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile at the way his hand slid to your belly, his thumb brushing slow, soothing circles. “It’s science,” you teased, leaning into his touch.

“Science, huh?” His voice dropped, the playful glint in his eyes turning into something softer. “Well, far be it from me to argue with science.”

Before you could reply, his lips were on yours—soft, warm, and filled with all the love and anticipation that had been building over the past nine months. He kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world, and for a moment, you forgot all about your swollen ankles and aching back.

You melted into the kiss, your fingers curling into his shirt as his hand slid around your back, pulling you closer. The warmth of his touch, the way his lips moved with yours—it was enough to make you forget, if only for a little while, the discomfort and impatience of these last few days.

When he pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath was warm against your lips. “You know,” he murmured, his voice a low hum, “I think science might be onto something.”

You laughed softly, the sound turning into a sigh as his hands traced gentle, soothing circles on your lower back. “You’re impossible,” you teased, though the fond smile on your face gave you away. “But fine. If you’re so dedicated to the cause, who am I to argue?”

His grin widened, and he leaned in to kiss you again, slower this time, his hands sliding to cradle your belly. “You and Bean,” he whispered, his voice thick with affection. “My whole world.”

Your heart swelled, and you reached up to cup his face, brushing your thumb along the curve of his cheek. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, your voice soft and full of emotion.

For a while, the two of you stayed like that—wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten. The discomfort and impatience of waiting melted away in the warmth of his embrace, replaced by a sense of peace and quiet joy. In moments like this, it was easy to remember why you’d fallen in love with him in the first place: his unshakable optimism, his unwavering support, and the way he always managed to make you feel like the most important person in the room.

When you finally pulled away, your hands still resting on his shoulders, you couldn’t help but smile. “So, Mr Butler,” you said, your tone light but teasing, “what’s your next plan to convince Bean to make their grand entrance?”

He chuckled, his hands still cradling your belly. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of tricks up my sleeve,” he said with a wink. “But first, I think we should start with a good night’s sleep. You need your rest, mama.”

You rolled your eyes but allowed him to help you up from the couch, his hands steady and sure as he guided you toward the bedroom. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right—you needed all the rest you could get. After all, Bean could decide to arrive at any moment, and you wanted to be ready.

As he tucked you into bed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe tonight would be the night. Or maybe not. Either way, you knew you were in good hands—with Austin by your side, there was nothing you couldn’t handle together.

It was the middle of the night, two days before your scheduled induction, when you woke up feeling... off. At first, you thought it was just another bout of pregnancy discomfort—the kind you’d grown used to over the past few weeks. You shifted in bed, trying to find a position that didn’t make your back ache, but something was different this time. A dull, rhythmic sensation began to spread from your lower back to your belly, each wave stronger and sharper than the last.

“Austin,” you whispered, reaching over to shake his shoulder gently. “I think…”

He stirred with a soft groan, his hair a dishevelled mess as he blinked up at you, still caught in the haze of sleep. “What’s wrong?” His voice was thick with concern. “You okay?”

You nodded, though your breath hitched as another wave rolled through you, stealing your focus for a moment. “I think it’s starting,” you managed, your voice trembling.

It took him a moment to process your words, but when it clicked, he shot out of bed like someone had lit a fire under him. “It’s happening?” he asked, his voice pitching higher. “Like… happening happening?”

You nodded again, gripping his hand as the contraction gripped you. “Definitely happening.”

His reaction was instant and chaotic, a blur of nervous energy as he darted around the room. “Okay, hospital bag—where’s the hospital bag? Car seat’s in, phone’s charged—oh, wait, I need to call the doctor—”

“Aus.” Your voice was steady despite the pain, a small smile tugging at your lips as you watched his frantic motions. “Breathe.”

He stopped mid-step, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you with a sheepish grin. “Right. Breathing. Got it.”

The contractions were coming steadily now, but still far enough apart that the doctor advised waiting at home a little longer before heading to the hospital. Austin stayed glued to your side, his energy shifting from panicked to determined as he settled into a rhythm of supporting you. Every contraction was met with his steady voice, his warm hands on your back, and the constant reassurance that you were doing amazing.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his tone low and soothing as he rubbed circles over your lower back during another wave. “I’m so proud of you.”

You leaned into him, his presence a grounding force as the hours stretched on and the contractions grew stronger. He timed each one with the kind of precision that would’ve been comical if you weren’t so focused on riding out the pain. At one point, you caught him muttering countdowns under his breath, and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile.

“Relax, Coach Butler,” you teased faintly when the contraction passed, your voice breathless but fond. “I’m not running a marathon.”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re doing something way more badass than that.”

When the time finally came to leave for the hospital, Austin was at your side in an instant, helping you into the car as though you were made of glass. “You know I’m not going to break, right?” you teased, though your voice hitched as another contraction tightened your belly.

His gaze softened, his hand brushing your cheek as he murmured, “You’re carrying my whole world. I’m not taking any chances.”

The drive to the hospital was a blur of flashing streetlights and the steady pressure of his hand holding yours. He murmured soft words of encouragement every time a contraction hit, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your skin. The excitement and nerves hung in the air between you, tangible and electric, but through it all, his love and steady presence anchored you.

By the time you arrived, you were ready—ready to meet the little person who had turned your world upside down in the most wonderful way.

The hospital was a flurry of activity as soon as you arrived, the nurses greeting you warmly as they guided you to a room. Austin stayed glued to your side, his hand firmly in yours as they asked you questions and hooked you up to monitors. The rhythmic sound of Bean’s heartbeat filled the room, steady and strong, and it was enough to ease some of your nerves.

“You’re doing great,” Austin murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead. His voice was calm, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened every time you grimaced through a contraction.

Labour was a whirlwind—hours that felt both endless and fleeting, a blur of pain, anticipation, and the steady presence of Austin by your side. He held your hand through every contraction, his voice calm and reassuring as he reminded you to breathe, even when you were ready to throw the ice chips at him.

“Doing great, baby,” he said, his hand brushing damp hair from your forehead. “Almost there.”

You gave him a look that could’ve melted steel, the pain sharp and unrelenting. “You say that one more time…” you panted, gripping his hand hard enough to make him wince.

“Noted,” he replied with a lopsided grin, "I’ll file that under ‘things not to say to a woman in labour.’" Though he didn’t flinch as your grip tightened again with the next contraction.

Hours later, when the time finally came to push, everything else faded into the background. The world outside the room ceased to exist, and all you could focus on was the determination to meet the tiny person who had been growing inside you for the past nine months. Austin’s voice was a constant, grounding you when the pain threatened to overwhelm.

It was his strength, his unwavering presence, that carried you through the final moments. “You’re so close,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can see the head.”

With one final, all-consuming effort, a sharp cry filled the room, cutting through the haze of pain and exhaustion. The world seemed to stop for a moment as the doctor lifted a tiny, wriggling figure into view.

“It’s a girl,” the doctor announced, their voice warm with joy as they placed her on your chest.

Time seemed to slow, her cries quieting the moment she felt your warmth. She was perfect—tiny fingers, a button nose, and a head full of fair hair that reminded you so much of Austin. Your heart swelled to the point of bursting as you traced her features with trembling fingers.

“Hi, Bean,” you whispered, tears spilling freely now. “Hi, baby girl.”

Austin leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple as his hand rested gently on hers. You both sat there for a moment, the world fading away as you took in the miracle between you. It was Austin who broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “Lori,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “If you’re still okay with it… I think it’s perfect.”

You nodded, your voice too thick with emotion to speak. You glanced down at her, stroking her soft cheek. “Hi, Lori,” you whispered. “Welcome to the world.”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. The love in his gaze was enough to undo you all over again. “She’s so tiny,” you said, your voice breaking. “And she’s ours.”

“She’s ours,” he echoed, his voice no more than a whisper.

The minutes that followed were a haze of firsts: the weight of her in your arms, her tiny hand curling instinctively around Austin’s finger, the soft, exhausted smiles you exchanged as the world outside the delivery room faded away.

When the nurse came to take Lori for her first check-up, Austin hesitated, his hand lingering protectively on her tiny head. “You’ll bring her right back, right?” he asked, his voice laced with both awe and worry.

The nurse smiled. “We won’t be far, Dad. She’s perfect, by the way.”

As Lori was carried out of the room, Austin sank into the chair beside your bed, his head falling into his hands. You reached for him, your fingers brushing his wrist. “Hey,” you said softly. “You okay?”

He looked up, his eyes red-rimmed but filled with a quiet, overwhelming joy. “I just… I can’t believe she’s here,” he said, his voice trembling. “She’s real. And she’s ours.”

You smiled, your own exhaustion forgotten as you reached for his hand. “She’s everything, isn’t she?”

He nodded, leaning in to kiss you, his lips lingering on yours for a moment that felt like it could stretch forever. “You’re the strongest person I know,” he murmured against your skin, his forehead resting against yours. “Thank you for her.”

You looked up at him, your chest tight with love and exhaustion. “We made her together,” you murmured, your fingers lacing with his. “She’s all of us.”

When they returned with Lori swaddled in a soft blanket, Austin reached out, his hands trembling slightly as he cradled her for the first time. The way he looked at her—his gaze full of wonder and tenderness—made your breath catch.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over her tiny hand. “I’m your dad.”

You couldn’t look away. Seeing Austin holding Lori—his large hands supporting her tiny body as he murmured soft, loving words—solidified everything you’d been through together. It wasn’t just love; it was the kind of connection that grounded you, that made everything you’d ever dreamed of feel possible. This was your family, built on a foundation of unwavering devotion and joy.

“She looks so much like you already,” Austin said, glancing up at you with a watery smile. “Same little nose, same pout. She’s beautiful.”

“She already has you wrapped around her finger,” you teased softly, though your voice was thick with emotion.

Austin looked up, his expression unapologetic. “Completely,” he admitted with a small, wobbly smile. “She’s got me for life.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur of exhaustion and wonder. You eventually dozed off for a little while, but when you woke, the sight before you took your breath away: Austin was still cradling Lori in his arms, his head bent as he whispered to her.

“I can’t wait to show you the world,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. “We’re going to have so many adventures, baby girl.”

You blinked back tears as you watched him, the love in his voice resonating deeply within you. If you had any doubts before, they were gone now. This was everything you had ever wanted, everything you had dreamed of, and so much more.

Austin glanced up and caught your gaze, his lips curving into the softest smile. He came over, settling beside you on the bed, and placed Lori gently in your arms. Together, you stared down at her, drinking in every tiny detail as the weight of the moment settled over you. It was a beginning—a brand-new chapter, a fresh adventure. And you couldn’t wait to live it.

[justauthoring]

The is the Beginning [3/?]

Summary: You never thought you'd be able to escape Buggy, and yet, a boy with a straw hat, a man with three swords and a girl with orange hair somehow manage to free you. The journey that follows afterwards is your chance at freedom and maybe something more.

A One Piece Live Action Rewrite

Part One - Part Two - Part Three

Pairing: Live Action!Zoro Roronoa x F!Reader

TW for this chapter: canon typical violence, jealous!zoro, self-depricating talk, angst but fluff too! & Sanji content because I love him

Word Count: 10,710

A/N: I am so excited for this chapter. Literally so much happens in this chapter and AHHH I hope you all enjoy <3

Tag List: @emmaiscool22 - @bethleeham - @veryunoriginal - @sun-rae04 - @medievalfangirl

Chapter Three - Together

“Did you just call that guy grandpa?”

Mouth still left parted in shock, you stare at the back of Luffy’s head, waiting for him to answer Zoro’s question. Or, at the very least, clarify what exactly he meant by calling the Vice Admiral of the Marine Corps grandpa—because surely he was not actually related to your captain; your captain of a pirate crew.

Though, you’re at a loss to think of what else Luffy could have possibly meant.

Meeting Zoro’s gaze, the two of you stood directly behind Luffy, his expression matching your own.

“Hit the deck!”

You barely have time to register Usopp’s warning, only seeing something black and something very much like a cannon heading straight your way, before arms are grabbing you and pulling you down. You’re tucked into a chest, your own arms coming to protect yourself as you try to ignore the ache the sudden movement pulls on your stitches.

The rumble of the cannon hitting the ship fades, and slowly, you pull away, meeting Zoro’s gaze first, realizing then he’d been the one to pull you down (you don’t have time to think about how that makes you feel), before both of your gazes fall on the broken fence of your ship deck. 

Pressing a hand to your waist, you move to stand, Zoro shuffling back to give you room. He offers a hand, to which you take, letting him help pull you up to your own feet.

“Everybody okay?” Luffy calls, and your eye falls on him in front of you.

“I think so,” Nami calls back, breathless. Both her and Usopp were further back from the explosion, up on the helm deck.

“No,” Usopp cries, popping up beside her. “Not okay. Not even close to okay.”

You shake your head, trying to ignore your own panic that’s bubbling inside of you. “We need to do something,” you urge, facing back towards the marine ship. “They’re just gonna keep shooting at us until we sink.”

Meeting your gaze briefly, Luffy nods. “Usopp!” He calls, pointing directly at the marine ship and his grandpa. “Fire back at them!”

“Or how about we sail away as fast as we can?” Usopp offers.

Luffy turns to look at him, looking bewildered that he’d even offered the idea. But Nami only extends a hand towards Usopp, clearly in agreement.

“Run from the Marines?” Luffy breathes, “no. Never! Nami, trim the… the sail thing. Let’s sink their ship.”

Usopp, probably despite his own fear, comes to meet Luffy with the cannon ammo.

“You want to sink a marine ship?” You echo in disbelief. “That’s… insane.”

“Not to mention, we don’t have time!” Nami argues, “they’re stealing our wind. If they pull up alongside us, we’re finished.”

Luffy just ignores her. “You’re the navigator. Do something.”

Turning to her, she meets your gaze. You offer a helpless shrug.

Nami huffs. “Zoro,” she calls, shifting her gaze past you. “Sheet in and hard to port! Y/N, stay there and don’t get more hurt.”

Feeling useless, you huff, but listen to Nami regardless. You knew you’d only pay worse if you didn’t.

“You know how to load a cannon?” Luffy asks Usopp, who chuckles nonchalantly in return.

You seriously doubt that.

“Yeah, of course. I’ve loaded thousands of them.” Almost as soon as he says that, he hesitates with the cannon in hand. “Uh, this just must be a different model than I’m used to.”

Huffing, you shuffle forward. “Load the cannon in the barrel,” you explain, pointing at the barrel as he turns to look at you helplessly. “Light the fuse and then get out of the way.”

Nodding at you, he shuffles forward, moving to the front of the cannon. Only, before he can load the barrel, he drops all the cannons in his hands. 

“Usopp!”

Eyes widening, you rush forward to help, but Luffy holds a hand out to you, shaking his head as he moves to run after Usopp and the cannons which have gone down the stairs.

Pressing a hand to your forehead, you sigh.

“We’re so gonna die.”

-

Somehow, you don’t die.

After Luffy somehow manages to deflect a cannon with his belly, Nami quickly makes the five of you disappear into the thick of the fog. The second you’d gotten away, Luffy had crawled up to the bow and taken a seat. He hadn’t said a word since. 

Nami had taken to steering, and since she was probably the most qualified person, you’d left her to it. You instead decide to lean against the railing, letting your eyes stay focused on the back of Luffy.

It wasn’t like him to be quiet, and you had no doubt it had something to do with the fact that his grandpa had nearly just destroyed his ship and killed him and all his friends. With how Luffy was, you figured he probably hadn’t come to terms with that reality yet and he would probably continue to ignore it until forced to otherwise.

“How’s the ship looking?”

Inhaling sharply, you glance over your shoulder, eye falling on Zoro as he shakes his head at Nami. “Broken railing,” he answers, “minor damage. Could’ve been a lot worse.”

Nami rolls her eyes; “could’ve been better.”

“Can’t see the Marines anywhere,” Usopp assures.

“Can’t see anything in this soup,” Nami corrects. “What we need is a place to lay low, wait out any reinforcements they send after us. My charts are useless in this fog.”

Zoro nods. “What did Luffy say?”

You sigh; “he’s on the bow,” you point ahead of yourself. “He hasn’t said anything since we hightailed it. I’m…” Hesitating, you chance one glance at his back before turning back to the three. “I’m worried about him.”

“Somebody needs to talk to him,” Nami says. “About this and that other thing.”

Zoro frowns. “What other thing?”

“Oh gee, I wonder,” Nami says, obviously sarcastic.

The expression on Zoro’s face tells you he really doesn’t know what.

“The Vice-Admiral-of-the-Marines-is-my-grandfather-thing.” Nami explains, looking at you all like it’s obvious.

You offer a shrug; “I’m confused too… but it feels wrong to interrogate him about it. Especially after the guy tried to kill us.”

Nami just blinks over at you.

“Yeah…” Usopp drawls, “I don’t really know the guy that well, so…”

Zoro nods; “doesn’t seem like a big deal.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that it isn’t a big deal…” You say tentatively, wary of Nami’s reaction and unable to deny the curiosity you feel. It did beg questions and it was a little wrong that Luffy had chosen not to tell any of you. “I just don’t know…”

Nami hesitates a moment, before shaking her head, turning to Zoro. “You’re his first mate,” he reminds, “kind of seems like that falls under your job description, hmm?”

He glances at you and Usopp, probably hoping one of you will do it instead of him. Usopp sends him a sheepish smile, holding the straps of his overalls and rocking on his feet, making his answer clear. When Zoro meets your gaze, you press a hand to your waist and smile nervously; “I’m injured?”

You were worried, but you also had no idea how to breach a conversation like that with Luffy of all people.

It’s obviously an excuse, but Zoro doesn’t argue. With a blink, he turns; “fine.”

You watch him leave, before meeting Nami’s gaze.

“You’re aware that Zoro is probably the worst person to check in on Luffy, right?” You raise a brow, “no way he’s actually gonna find anything out.”

Sighing dramatically, Nami presses her forehead to the helm.

Sure enough, a minute later Zoro comes back, shrugging; “seems fine to me.”

“Did you even ask him?”

Before Zoro can respond, if he even was going to, Luffy suddenly stands; “hey!” Pausing, he sniffs, raising his finger. “You guys smell that?”

Your brows furrow. “Smell what?”

Luffy’s quiet for a moment, taking in the air, before he breathes out; “there’s something on the breeze.” Sniffing again, his eyes widen. “Smells like butter. Soy sauce. And meat.”

He grins back at the four of you.

“I can’t smell anything,” Usopp frowns, moving towards Luffy. He seems almost disappointed he can’t smell anything.

“Think he has brain damage?” Zoro asks you and Nami.

Nami huffs, crossing her arms; “I think that every day.”

You let out a nervous laugh.

“Look, Luffy,” Usopp scratches his head. “Playing follow the smell is fun and all, but we really got to get out of this fog.”

“I know,” he calls back, “but I smell food, which means that there’s someone somewhere cooking.”

-

You’ll never doubt Luffy’s nose again.

Turns out what he was smelling was a whole restaurant, and without having anywhere else to go and needing food, you’d all decided to dock there and get something to eat. Luffy and Usopp had been roaring to go the second the ship docked, barely able to stand still, which made Nami eager to get off the boat just so she didn’t have to deal with two idiots. You’re pretty excited yourself, but just as the ship docked, you’d noticed a bit of red on your shirt. You very quickly deduced it was your wound and obviously, after the excitement of nearly being hit by a cannon, you’d aggravated your stitches.

“You sure you don’t need help?” Nami frowns, hesitating to follow Luffy and Usopp off the ship. Zoro was hanging by the plank too, you couldn’t help but notice. He wasn’t offering to stay, of course, but he seemed concerned.

Shaking your head from the thought, you smile at Nami. “Positive.” You assure, sending her a thumbs up. “I just gotta change the bandage and my shirt and I’ll meet you guys there. Just let the host know I’m coming.”

Hovering for only a moment longer, Nami nods. “You can borrow one of my shirts again,” she offers. “Remind me next time we’re on an island to get you some clothes. When we’re not being chased by Marines.”

You laugh, nodding at her and turning to head to your and Nami’s shared room. You pause, however, when your eye catches Zoros’ once again. He looks like he wants to say something, and for some reason you find you can’t offer anything in return. It takes Nami, who’d seen the rather obvious and embarrassing display, to grab Zoro by the arm and pull him with her to get either of you to move.

Cheeks burning, you rush down to the room, trying to ignore the flutter of your chest or the nerves flooding through your entire body.

Seriously, it was starting to get too much. Before, you’d at least be able to brush it off as being intimidated by Zoro since he was, well, a pretty intimidating guy. But since the whole Kuro incident and you getting hurt, every time Zoro’s eyes seemed to fall on you, that narrowed and heavy gaze lightened into something soft. It was hard to ignore or not let get to you when he’d already made you all hot and flustered before.

He was attentive in a way you hadn’t experienced or expected from him. Everyone had been worried when you’d gotten hurt. You distinctly remember being surprised by how bothered Nami had seemed by it and even Usopp, who you’d just met, had checked in on you. But Zoro? Zoro had been concerned in a whole other way. Rather than just asking you or checking in like Luffy had, he’d hovered. He stayed near when Kaya had cleaned and stitched your wound for you, helping you walk there and then back to the ship even when you assured you were fine.

You’d never had someone so worried about you, let alone a man you were clearly attracted to.

You didn’t know if Zoro had any idea of what he was doing to you, but he was killing you. Your heart was always racing when he was near, which was always, and he made you feel like a fumbling fool, mind short-circuiting to the point of silliness whenever his eyes fell on you.

You’d never forget what he’d said about your eye. How he’d made you feel about it. Luffy and Nami had been endearing too, you would never deny that, but Zoro had spoken up first. And the look on his face…

Pressing your hands to your cheeks, you try to cool the heat you feel and your racing mind. This was silly. You were being silly. Zoro was just being nice and he probably just saw what a helpless fool you were and felt pity. There was nothing more to it. 

Zoro was a strong swordsman, a renowned bounty hunter and Luffy’s first mate and you were… you.

Swallowing thickly, you sit down at the desk in your and Nami’s shared room, pulling up your shirt and glancing down. As expected, your wound has bled through your bandage. Momentarily, you worry that you’ve ripped your stitches, but the second you pull the bandage off, you’re assured that isn’t the case. You clearly just aggravated the wound and, pausing to clean the blood and apply the salve Kaya had given you, you place a new bandage on.

You take a moment more to find a shirt to wear, thankful Nami was being so generous with her clothing. You could tell the girl took her fashion seriously and you felt bad enough borrowing her clothes, but now you were ruining them with blood. You’d have to make it up to her somehow.

Cleaned with a new bandage on, you smile to yourself, feeling your stomach rumble almost as if reminding you.

Without a second more of hesitation, you make your way up and off the Going Merry. The Baratie is buzzing with people and you can’t help but let your gaze wander across the millions of different people going on with their lives, each in their own world. You continue to do so until you find the front entrance to the restaurant, and with a simple explanation to the host that you were here with friends and a small description of some friends, you’re led to the table.

You pause, however, when you realize the waiter is already taking your friends’ order.

The host leaves your side and with only a second more of hesitation, you make your way to the table, not having realized you’d taken so long.

“Do I still have time to place an order?”

Everyone's eyes fall on you at your question, and coming to a stop on the left of the waiter, right in front of Zoro. You frown when you notice the tense look on his face, concerned, but before you can ask, your captain is beaming at your arrival.

“Y/N!” Luffy calls, grinning. “You’re just in time! I ordered one of everything for us!”

You shouldn’t be surprised, but his words still pull a laugh from your lips. Of course Luffy would order the entire menu.

“I didn’t know I would be greeted by two beautiful maidens today. And one with such an infectious laugh.”

Freezing, it takes you a second to realize that the words had come from the waiter and that he was talking to you. Eyes widening, you turn to him, meeting his eyes with your left one, only to see him smiling at you. One hand is shoved into the pocket of his dress pants as he turns towards you with a certain suaveness.

Cheeks warming in embarrassment, your hands rise. “Oh, I—”

But before you can finish, the waiter is taking your left hand in his, pulling it up to his lips and pressing a kiss there. No longer just warm, your cheeks burn.

“Such beautiful eyes too, madam,” he grins, “I’ll never forget either of them.”

You’re hyper aware of the fact that your entire crew is watching this happen and that you’re standing there, gaping like a fish. You’ve never had anyone flirt with you, especially not someone so… persistent. 

The waiter continues to stare back at you, never once looking upset by your lack of response.

An achingly long minute passes.

“Y/N.”

You don’t even have time to turn to Zoro at him calling your name before you feel hands fall on your hips, tugging you forward. A small yelp leaves your lips in response, stunned stupid, as Zoro pulls you in front of him, practically on his lap for a brief second, your hand slipping from the waiter's grip. Zoro moves you so you’re sat next to him, in between him and Nami who sends you a knowing smirk as you try to ignore your racing heart and flaming cheeks.

“Oi,” the waiter calls before you can, again, say anything. “Don’t be so rough with her.”

Zoro glares right at him. “Don’t be so handsy,” he growls back, not missing a beat. “Y/N doesn’t even know you.”

“She can get to know me,” the waiter challenges, curling a brow at your swordsman before his eyes shift back to you. “I’m sorry our introduction got interrupted, my name is Sanji. It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

You’re sure you look as stupid as you feel.

“N-Nice to meet you too, Sanji,” you echo back, voice small.

Sanji grins just as Zoro leans forward, cutting you off from view. “Shouldn’t you be getting our food and drinks? The ones we ordered, waiter?”

The smile on Sanji’s face tenses, but he holds back whatever he clearly wants to say to Zoro, side stepping to meet your eyes once again. “Certainly, but first… what would you like, madam? Water like your lovely friend or something else? A sweet wine, perhaps? I can recommend some to you.”

You meet Nami’s eyes who just scoffs, obviously having received similar attention as you were now.

“Water,” you squeak. “Like her.”

“Not sparkling? Mineral? Ice or no?”

“Just water,” you nod, noticing the tick in Zoro’s jaw.

“Coming right up, Y/N,” he winks at you, smirking, before he turns away.

Silence follows, thick and heavy.

“Don’t worry,” Nami is the first to break the ice, lightly nudging you. “He was the same with me.”

Usopp snickers next to her, meeting your eye; “looks like you and Nami have got a boyfriend.”

Rolling her eyes, Nami just laughs quietly to herself. “Yeah, well, I don’t think it’s me we should be worried about.” Her eyes shift to Zoro, as does everyones, even Luffy who looks a bit lost, and finally, you turn to look at him too.

Your cheeks are still warm with embarrassment, mainly from Sanji’s flirting, but also the way Zoro had grabbed you. It wasn’t that you minded, because really, you didn’t, but—what the hell was that?

Meeting her gaze, arms crossed over his chest, Zoro huffs; “I’m fine.”

“Sure,” Nami drawls, smirking. 

“I never seen you so angry, Zoro,” Usopp teases, grinning ear to ear. “Jealous?” He sings the word, wiggling his brows at the swordsman as you sink into your seat further.

“Of a waiter?” Zoro scoffs, careful not to glance your way. “Of course not.”

You don’t fail to notice the fact that he hadn’t denied he’d been jealous because of you.

With a little bit more laughter, the conversation drifts off as Luffy starts to ramble about the food. Once the attention is thoroughly off you and Zoro, you turn to him.

“Are you okay?” You ask in a soft voice, concerned and perhaps wanting to know more about why he’d done what he had.

Finally turning to look at you, you watch as Zoro swallows thickly. “Fine,” he says gruffly and you flinch, frowning. Seeing your reaction, Zoro sighs. “Just didn’t like the way he touched you…”

He says it with a grumble, and if you hadn’t been right next to him, you wouldn’t have heard it.

Lips parting, you blink; “oh.”

“No guy should touch you like that.” He adds.

You turn to him but he’s already looked away, clearly done with the conversation.

You can’t help but think to yourself, however, that he’d touched you like that.

And that you liked it.

- 

“So… how long do you think the owner will make Luffy work for him?”

You glance up at your friends at your own question, curious. Instead of mirrored curiosity staring back at you, you find blank faces instead.

Frowning, you huff. “Is no one concerned?” You ask, genuinely worried. “We all ate that food… and he’s the one working for it.”

“I didn’t eat,” Zoro shrugs, “I just drank some beer.”

You glower at him.

Turning to Usopp, you hope maybe he’ll say something. Of course, he doesn’t and instead, he continues to slurp up the fancy fruity cock-tail drink he’d ordered, promptly avoiding your eye. You already know that Nami won’t be any help since she seemed rather hurt by Luffy lying about his grandpa, and while you couldn’t fault her for being hurt, you were frustrated at all of their lack of concerns.

Sighing, you push yourself to a stand, taking a step forward. Zoro catches you by the wrist before you make it two full steps.

“Where are you going?”

You glance down at him. “To find Luffy,” you gesture forward, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. Which it should’ve. “I don’t feel like drinking or…” You let your eyes drag across the bustling crowd of the bar. “...dancing. Maybe I can talk the owner into going easy on him.”

You go to do that, except, Zoro still doesn’t let go of your wrist.

“We should probably stick together,” Zoro says, never taking his eyes off of you. “In case the Marines come.”

You shake your head, pulling at his grip. He lets go easy, but the frown on his face makes it clear he’s annoyed by your persistence. “I’ll be fine,” you brush off his concern. “The worst thing I’ll be doing is washing some dishes, I reckon.”

Zoro looks like he wants to argue, but it’s clear he isn’t sure how.

You just sigh; “stay and relax. I’ll be fine.”

And then you turn before he can say anything else.

Shifting your way past the crowd of the bar, you make your way back down the steps that lead out into the outdoor bar. It isn’t hard to get back into the restaurant, but you’re careful not to catch the attention of any of the chefs or staff. Instead, you carefully slink your way towards the employee section.

At the sight of a chef with blue hair coming towards you, you’re quick to duck behind a wall. You hesitate, hovering, trying to listen for his footsteps to grow distant. Except, your ears pick up on something else.

Luffy.

Turning in the direction of the noise, your gaze falls on the hallway in front of you, seeing a door at the far end. With one more glance behind you to make sure no one was there, you make your way down the hall, eyes brightening when you see the word ‘KITCHEN’ labelled at the top of the door. A glance through the small circular windows only confirms your suspicions, lips curling into a smile at the sight of Luffy.

You also make note of the waiter from before standing in front of him and… it looked like the two were talking to a man you didn’t recognize. Sanji is ushering the man out the back entrance of the kitchen, and you use that as your chance to sneak in.

Pushing open the door, you pop your head in.

“Luffy?”

He turns at the sound of your voice, face brightening at the sight of you.

“Y/N!”

You wince when he all but yells your name, confident you were definitely not supposed to be back here. With one last glance back, you slip inside, letting the doors swing shut behind you as you make your way over to your captain.

“What’re you doing here?” He grins, confused. “I thought you and the rest went up to the bar.”

“We did… but I left.” You explain, frowning slightly. Setting your hand on his arm, you glance up at him. “It was a little awkward, Luffy. Nami’s pretty upset about the grandpa thing.”

Luffy’s face wavers at that, the same way you noticed it had during dinner when Nami had brought it back up then. Frowning at the sight, you squeeze his arm reassuringly.

“But mainly I came because I was worried,” you smile. “I didn’t know how hard that owner guy was working you.”

Luffy instantly eases at that, and his lips curve into a genuine smile.

“I’m okay. He just has me doing dishes,” he juts his thumb behind him, and you eye the stack of dishes with a grimace. “Though, I think I found—”

“Y/N?”

Startled at the new voice, you glance over Luffy’s shoulder to see the waiter back from wherever he’d escorted that man you’d seen before. He seems baffled at the sight of you, while you freeze at the sight of him, worried he’ll be mad you snuck in.

“Hello, S-Sanji,” you greet, offering a small wave. “I know I’m not supposed to be here but I was worried about Luffy—”

“I’m not mad you’re here, love,” Sanji grins easily, making his way over to you and Luffy with a shake of his head. “I just hoped you were having fun upstairs in the bar.”

Still not used to his charm, you flush. “Oh, well…” Eye trailing, you turn to Luffy. “I was actually going to ask Luffy if he needed help with—”

“Absolutely not,” Sanji cuts you off for the third time, leaving your lips parted in bafflement. He’s crossing the distance in the kitchen over to you two in two seconds, and before you can even realize it, his hands are on your shoulders, gently turning you towards the door to the kitchen. The one you’d just come from. “A lady like yourself should not be getting her hands dirty at all.”

“B-But…” Words trailing in your bafflement, you glance back at Luffy who grins back at you, unbothered.

“The chore boy will be fine.”

“I should really…” You reach weakly towards Luffy who just raises his hand in an eager wave, completely unbothered by Sanji who is all but shoving you out of the kitchen.

Before you realize, the two of you are back out in the restaurant and Sanji, still with his hands on your shoulders, is easily maneuvering you up the stairs and out of the restaurant completely. In fact, he doesn’t stop until he’s outside the restaurant, far away from anyone.

When he lets go of you, you turn to him, nonplussed.

He grins down at you, sincere and wide.

“Do you always drag girls you just meet to secluded areas to get them alone?”

He seems momentarily stunned by your words, as if not even realizing where he’d lead you, before his face eases and he leans back against the wall of the restaurant. You watch as he reaches into the pocket of his dress pants, pulling out a pack of smokes. “Not usually, but I thought this was the perfect opportunity to get to know each other. Like I’d offered before.” He sends you a wink that has your cheeks warming, eye watching as he places a cigarette between his teeth, lighting it.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you curl a brow at him, ignoring your flush. “Very… forward of you.”

He just grins, taking a puff of his smoke. “You don’t seem to mind it.”

“Only because Luffy didn’t seem bothered by you leading me away like that,” you shrug, moving to lean against the wall next to him. “Anyone Luffy trusts, I do too.”

Sanji raises a brow. “You sure have faith in him.”

“He saved my life,” you explain, thinking back to that moment he’d offered you to join his crew. Even before that, in that pub… you had no idea then how much Luffy and the rest would change your mind. “They all have.”

Sanji’s smile turns more soft at that, and he turns his gaze up to the sky. “That’s sweet.” You turn to look at him, and sure enough, a moment later, he’s adding with a smirk; “just like you.”

You scoff. “It seems you can’t control yourself.”

“Not when I’m around you,” he laughs, taking another puff of his smoke.

“Sure,” you drawl, snorting.

A second of silence passes, before Sanji speaks up again. “So, what’s going on between you and that moss head?”

Almost instantly, the light flush you’d had before burns into something more intense, as you jump, facing Sanji as you wildly shake your hands in front of you. “No-Nothing!” You squeak, unable to control the pitch of your voice.

Sanji eyes you for a moment, then, he chuckles; “sure.” He drawls, matching your previous tone.

“Seriously,” you argue, trying to calm your voice to sound more sure. “There’s nothing going on between me and Zoro.”

“Beautiful, anyone who gets jealous like that over a little flirting doesn’t think there’s nothing going on.” Sanji shakes his head, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Or, he hasn’t man-upped enough to tell you the truth.”

You’re positive you’re on fire with how hot you are in embarrassment.

“Zoro does not like me.”

“Okay,” he pauses, “but do you like him?”

Lips left parted, you blink up at Sanji.

“I-I… It’s none of your business.”

Humming, Sanji takes another puff. “Seems like you want to get it off your chest, love.”

You pout. “You’re annoying.”

He leans towards you, smirking; “I’m right, beautiful.” 

Shoulders falling, you kick your leg out at a random pebble. “Fine,” you huff, glancing at your feet. “Maybe I like him… a little bit!”

You don’t see the way Sanji’s face softens down at you, and you almost think something’s wrong when he doesn’t say anything. But when you glance back up at him, he’s turned his gaze back up. “Shame,” he sighs, almost soulful. “You truly are enchanting.”

Eyes widening, you bite your lip. “Shut up.”

“It’s true,” he pushes, looking unbothered by your embarrassment. “You deserve far more than that moss head.”

“You don’t even know Zoro.”

He shrugs. “I can tell.”

“I—”

Whatever you’d been about to say falls silent on the tip of your tongue when you see a familiar Straw Hat run by in front of you. Stepping back Sanji, you glance past his shoulder, you watch as Luffy and Usopp run towards the Going Merry.

“Where’s Y/N?” You hear Luffy yell distantly.

“I thought she was with you!” Usopp calls back.

You frown.

“Something wrong?” Sanji asks, hand falling on your shoulder and your gaze turns up, realizing he’d seen the same thing.

“I don’t know…” You breathe, concerned. Stepping back from Sanji, you turn to him apologetically, lips parting to explain.

“Don’t worry about it, love,” he brushes your apology off. “You should go make sure everything’s okay.”

Face easing at his words, you smile; “thank you, Sanji.”

Cigarette in his lips, he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. You send him a genuine smile and a wave, before turning around to run off in the direction Usopp and Luffy had gone.

You’re quick to pick up the pace in your step, reaching the Going Merry in now time. You can hear the distinct voice of Nami and heart racing at how upset she sounds, you’re making your way down the stairs and towards them in seconds flat.

“But you are not better than him!”

Coming to a stop right at the bottom of the stairs, everyone’s eyes fall on you.

Nami instantly turns on you; “there you are!” Reaching you, she tugs you forward, and as she does, you see Usopp glance at you helplessly and Luffy softly smiling which gives you very mixed signals. 

Finally, you turn to Zoro, who is… getting his swords ready?

“What’s going on?” You ask, helpless.

Nami huffs next to you. “Will you talk some sense to him?”

Lips parting, you shake your head at Nami. “Sure… but for what?”

“He’s challenged Dracule Mihawk, one of the Seven Warlords, to a duel.”

It’s like you can hear your heart plummet to the pit of your stomach. Nami, who is too busy turning back to Zoro in frustration, doesn’t notice the way your eye shifts, something distant flooding in. Usopp and Luffy don’t see it either.

But Zoro, who’d chanced a glance up at you, nervous for your reaction, sees it. His face falls briefly, everything else fading as he watches you closely.

“Y/N,” Nami presses, voice pitching in distress. “Tell him how reckless he's being.”

Still stunned, your mind a reckless bout of realization and terror, your gaze finally shifts towards Zoro. He quickly turns away and the sight makes dread flood you. “Z-Zoro,” you breathe, feeling as if your voice sounds like an outside extension of yourself.

Distantly, you realize that you’re not helping Nami and most of all, acting suspiciously. Swallowing thickly, you lean forward on the table. “You cannot fight… h-him… fight Mihawk.”

“Yeah,” Nami nods. She looks relieved you agree with her and you figure, even in the midst of your racing mind, the boys hadn’t been much help. With a frown and a huff, she throws her hand in Zoro’s direction; “he wants to go through with it! Even though it’ll get him killed.”

Zoro turns to her, still avoiding your gaze, and asks bluntly; “why do you give a shit?”

Nami visibly blanches, head jerking back in hurt. Her lips part, twisting to say something, and then, blinking back the betrayal in her eyes, she breathes out; “because you’re my friend, you idiot.”

“You said it yourself. You don’t have any friends.”

You see it in her eyes. His words are harsh and even though you’re still reeling from the realization of what was happening and clearly having walked into the middle of something, you see as the walls she’d slowly let fall around you all come back up. Brick by brick.

She glances around the room, meeting your eye last and then, she leaves without another word.

All of you, except for Zoro, watch her leave.

No one says anything, and then, Usopp is following Nami out, meeting your eye with a nervous panic before slipping out. Luffy follows him a second later, patting your shoulder.

You stay standing there, as if glued to the spot. You can’t bring it in you to chase after Nami even if you were concerned, but you also can’t find the words to say something to Zoro. You want to tell him off for being cruel to Nami like that, you want to tell him he was being an idiot that was going to get himself killed and you want to tell him…—

It takes Zoro a minute to speak up. “Not going to try and convince me like Nami?”

Swallowing thickly, the lump in your throat remains despite. With your hands hanging helplessly at your sides, you try to blink back the tears that well in your eyes. It was all too much at once. Your heart was aching with this anchor that had been thrown at you and it was too much to bear.

Still, deep in your heart, you know; “it wouldn’t stop you,” you whisper, voice cracking at the end.

You could beg and plead, get on your hands and knees, and you know nothing could stop Zoro from doing this. The only thing that might… you weren’t sure if you were ready to admit.

Zoro pauses, hands hovering. Then, he agrees; “probably not.”

Your breath hitches. “You could die.”

He turns to look at you. You don’t meet his eyes. 

“He’s my goal.”

Fists clenching, you shake your head. “Zoro, please listen,” you cry, “you cannot fight Mihawk. He’s… He’s…”

But you can’t form the words.

“He’s what?” Zoro pushes, leaning towards you. “Say it, Y/N. I saw your face when Nami told you. Mihawk is what?”

You flinch, stepping back. You can’t look at him even as the guilt and panic tears you apart inside. You couldn’t.

Your mind races for something, something else, and then you remember your conversation with Sanji before. You remember your feelings. “W-What about me?”

“What about you?” Zoro’s tone is even, careful, but his blunt question hurts all the same.

Finally, you look up at him. His eyes are already on you, face flat and expressionless. 

You come to terms then it’s pointless. Zoro wasn’t going to cancel the duel and nothing you were willing to say would change his mind. Anything more, and you’d just get yourself hurt. You think once again, in that moment, back to your conversation with Sanji. 

You’d known of your feelings all along, just hadn’t been able to realize it. But you’d finally let yourself admit how you felt about Zoro. Finally let the truth out and the relief you’d felt in that moment, to a man you’d only met that day no less, had been imminent.

You’d gotten ahead of yourself then. Forgot that you were the only one who believed in Luffy’s wish to be a crew. Forgot that all the people you’d met had their own goals and you were someone just drifting alongside with them until it came time for them to leave.

You forgot that your life wasn’t just being a part of Luffy's crew.

You forgot that even if Zoro felt anything of what you felt for him, you were still just some girl he’d rescued from a pirate and nothing more than that. Zoro had his own goals and dreams, and you weren’t part of them.

What about you?

Answer made clear, you turn and walk without another word.

Zoro doesn’t see the way tears fall from your face the second you’re out of sight and you don’t see the way his leg kicks out in frustration at himself for being so stupid. 

-

It was clear Mihawk didn’t know who you were, despite being your father.

You couldn’t blame him, though. He’d never met you. He didn’t even know that the random woman he met that one day eighteen years ago and spent the night with, had ever gotten pregnant. It wasn’t like Dracule Mihawk to stick around places for long, after all.

And the only reason you even knew he was your father was because your mother had told you the day she died. In her deathbed, with your hand clutching hers, she’d whispered his name and told you if you ever needed help, to go to him.

Something told you he wouldn’t be helping you here.

You watch him best Zoro in every single one of his attacks. He dodges his attacks without even having to lift a finger. It’s a fight unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, and the reality of watching Zoro unable to land any attacks is cruel and unforgiving.

Everything about this is cruel.

With your heart racing and your palms sweaty, you visibly flinch when Mihawk stabs Zoro with the tiny sword he told Zoro was the best match for their duel. It hits him directly in the chest, and you watch the flicker of pain in Zoro’s eyes as he stares his goal down.

And as you listen to Zoro refuse to give up, you can feel your heart tear into two.

Mihawk brings out Yoru. You watch as he unsheathes it from his back, heart plummeting. And you watch as Zoro places the Wado Ichimonji in his mouth, bringing the two black-handle katanas into either of his hands. This is it, you realize. This is the final attack.

After watching Zoro be unable to land one hit, you know this final one won’t be different.

There’s a moment of stilled silence, no one moves. And then, Zoro is running forward and Mihawk watches his pace. They clash, the sound of metal hitting metal reverberates in your mind, rattling your insides.

Zoro slides on his knees across the deck in front of Baratie, stopping just a few feet in front of you. He’s breathless, silent, and you feel your friends around you as you all watch with bated breath.

The two black-handle swords shatter into pieces.

The sob that wretches from your throat is beyond your control. It rips out of you, body shuddering in the reality you’re forced to face, watching as Zoro stands to his feet and turns to face Mihawk.

“You’re defeated,” Mihawk shakes his head. “Why do you persist?”

Sheathing the Wado Ichimonji, Zoro says without hesitation; “wounds on the back are a swordsman’s greatest shame.” Raising his arms in defeat, he holds them to his sides, waiting for Mihawk to make his final move.

“Magnificent.”

Tears welling in your eyes, you feel a hand slip into your own.

Glancing down first and then following the arm, you find Nami’s similarly tearful eyes staring back at you, squeezing your hand. You don’t know if it’s to comfort you or herself, but you appreciate it nonetheless. You turn to your other friends, seeing that Nami is holding Usopp’s hand too and he’s looking at you with concern. The final person you turn to is Luffy.

He meets your eye, and your whole body trembles.

You turn your head back in Zoro’s direction, and the second Mihawk’s arm swings to attack Zoro, you turn away again.

Your head tucks into Nami who startles at your movement, but her hand slips from your own to wrap her arm around you. You can’t see, but you hear the slice of skin and the sound of Zoro’s body hit the ground a minute later. You feel Nami’s body jerk in response.

“Zoro!”

-

Hugging your knees to your chest, you stare at Zoro. You let your eye drag across his sleeping figure, every curve of his face, the dip of his nose, all the way down to his chest, where his wound is tightly bandaged.

It was thanks to Sanji and the Baratie owner, Zeff, that Zoro’s wounds had been cleaned, stitched and dressed. It was thanks to them that Zoro even had a chance of surviving.

Talk to him. That’s what Zeff had said. The only thing any of you could do for Zoro now was talk to him and hope that that was enough to pull him from the purgatory between life and death. 

You’d offered the first watch and no one had argued. Everyone was worried about Zoro in their own way, but the tears streaming down your cheeks and the visible mess you were in left no one willing to argue with you. One by one, everyone had left the room, with Luffy only glancing back at you one last time, before it was just you and Zoro.

You hadn’t moved from the spot since then.

That had been hours ago. Nami had come in at one point and asked if she could read to Zoro. you’d nodded without a word, sitting back but never leaving the room. Nami didn’t say anything and even if she had, you would’ve refused to leave. Luffy had followed her in shortly after and that had turned sour quickly when it was apparent that Nami felt Luffy held some responsibility for not telling Zoro to back out of the duel. You watched them argue, not saying a word. Then, Nami left.

“You should eat,” Luffy had said a minute after she walked out the door.

Never taking your eye off Zoro, you’d shaken your head. “I will when he wakes up.”

“Y/N, you—”

“When he wakes up.” The words had come out sharper than you intended and instantly, you’d felt guilt when you’d seen Luffy jerk at the sound. But you didn’t get up nor did you say anything else, and a minute later, Luffy left too.

That had been an hour ago. No one else had come in since.

You’d moved back to the chair next to Zoro, and let your hand slip into his and you hadn’t moved since.

Talk to him. How were you supposed to talk to him? What could you possibly say to him after everything that happened? 

Head falling, you let out a shaky sigh.

“This is all my fault,” you whisper, barely even registering you’d said the words aloud. And as you breathe the words into existion, you realize that that was the only thing you could say. 

Raising your head, you glance at Zoro’s face.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, squeezing his hand. “I should’ve… I should’ve told you the truth.”

Your chest feels tight, your body heavy. You know what you want to say, but you don’t know if you have the courage to speak the words. Mihawk was your father, it was true, but he meant nothing to you. That isn’t what made it hard to say. Not even seeing him in person for the first time today could make the feeling of indifference toward him fade. Mihawk didn’t even know who you were and he never would.

Today would’ve been your chance to tell him and it hadn’t even crossed your mind.

What you found hard to admit was that you’d been too scared to tell Zoro the truth and that cowardness is what got him hurt. If you had just been honest with him, maybe none of this wouldn’t have happened. Zoro wouldn’t have gotten hurt and nobody on the crew would be upset.

Why couldn’t you have just been honest?

“I was scared,” you tell Zoro. “Scared because there’s so much about my life I don’t know and the only thing I do know is so unimportant.” Breathing in sharply, you force the words out. “So what if Mihawk is my father? It hadn’t mattered before. But it mattered last night and I should’ve told you… If I told you, you wouldn’t be hurt and the crew wouldn’t have to be worried about you not waking up.”

Pressing your free hand to your forehead, you shake your head. “I’m so sorry, Zoro,” you sob, feeling your eyes water as curl into yourself. “I’m so sorry because you’re hurt and because I think I may love you… and my life is so utterly unimportant that you deserve better than someone like me… Someone who will just ruin your life.”

Your hand leaves his, pressing against your lips as you let yourself cry. You let yourself cry out the anguish in your chest that weighs you down and hurts. You cry and cry, stifling your sobs behind your hand, letting it all out.

Until, eventually, you fall asleep from the exhaustion.

The exhaustion of not sleeping the night before, of being tense and terrified for Zoro, for the guilt that feels like it might eat you alive.

You stay like that for a while, until soft hands gently shake you awake.

“Come on, love. Wake up.”

Letting out a soft groan, your eyes flutter at the voice, hands moving instinctively to rub at your eyes. It takes you a second to wake yourself up, confused as you slowly straighten out. You first see Zoro before your head turns, and your eye falls on Sanji who’s standing behind you.

“Sanji?”

“You need to eat,” Sanji says, ushering you. “Come on.”

You turn back to Zoro, licking your dry lips. “I shouldn’t leave him.”

Your eyes are puffy and your eyelids ache. The last thing you remember is crying, and it occurs to you you’d fallen asleep in the midst of your break down. 

“Luffy can watch him,” Sanji offers, gesturing behind him.

Turning towards the door, Luffy smiles at you warmly.

“I’ll watch Zoro for you, Y/N. I promise I’ll take good care of him.”

Dazed and still a little sleepy, you let Sanji pull you to your feet, not fighting his grip as he guides you towards the door. You glance back at Zoro one last time, feeling that crushing guilt stab at you, just as Luffy squeezes your shoulder.

“He’ll wake up, Y/N,” Luffy grins at you. “I promise.”

You nod at him, finding his words reassuring and comforting despite the doubt festering inside you.

“I’ll whip you up something tasty, Y/N.” Sanji smiles softly down at you, “okay?”

He’s incredibly gentle the entire time. You relish in it.

-

“Can I have a moment alone with him?”

Meeting Nami’s eyes, you nod, moving to stand. She sends you a smile, though it seems off, as you walk past her.

Letting the door fall shut behind you, you make your way into the kitchen. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the nerves rattling your body. After Nami had come running into the kitchen where you and Sanji were, you eating after he’d made you a meal like he promised, it was instantly clear something was wrong. She had been going on about some pirate named Arlong, calling for Luffy in between explaining to you. Most importantly, she looked terrified.

Turns out Arlong was attacking Baratie looking for Luffy and the Grand Line map.

Nami’s attempt at getting Luffy to take the Going Merry and run had been fruitless and he, Sanji and Usopp had gone to confront Arlong. Luffy had told Nami to stay behind to protect the map, before turning to you and telling you to watch over Zoro for him. When you’d tried to argue and say you could help, he’d just shaken his head and said you were still healing from your last fight and Zoro was more important.

So, for the last twenty or so minutes, you and Nami were in the Going Merry. She’d disappeared elsewhere on the ship the second the three left, so you assigned yourself back next to Zoro, opting to read to him like Nami had before in the hopes that maybe that’d get him to wake up. 

You had, at least, until Nami had popped her head into the room.

You hoped everything was going well. Honestly, you did want to go out and check on them, but you knew Luffy was right. Even if he hadn’t said it in that way, it was clear he didn’t want you coming because you didn’t know how to fight. You’d be more of a hindrance than any help and that reality left a sour taste in your mouth.

Hearing footsteps approach, you turn, face easing when you see Nami coming out of the room.

“Everything okay?” You ask, despite knowing in fact nothing was okay.

She nods, stepping out of the room and you smile at her as you walk past her, squeezing her shoulder in an attempt to comfort both her and yourself. You think nothing of the look on her face, chalking it up to everything that had and is happening just making her a little off.

At least, until you hear the door slam shut behind you.

Stilling right next to Zoro, your head snaps towards the door. You hesitate for a moment, baffled, before your feet instinctively carry you towards it, hand falling on the knob. Maybe she’d shut it by accident? Or maybe she wanted to give you privacy as you had for her?

Except, the door won’t open when you turn it.

“N-Nami?”

You know she’s by the door. You can see her shadow through the small opening at the bottom. You can hear her heavy breathing.

“Nami,” you call again, voice louder. “Why is the door locked?”

There’s a moment that passes before she answers.

“Sorry, Y/N. I can’t let you out.”

“What?” You breathe, bewildered. There’s something awful twisting in your chest. You try the door again, it doesn’t open. “Nami, what the hell is going on? What are you doing?”

“I’m doing what I always planned to do.”

Her voice is muffled through the door, but the low tone scares you all the same.

Using your left hand, you slam it against the door. “Let me out, Nami. Now.”

“You’ll be safe in there.”

You hear her take a step toward and your heart lurches, yanking on the door as you start to pound against it more aggressively. “Nami?”

“I’m sorry.”

You see her shadow disappear and soon, her footsteps are gone too. You stand there, stunned, before you start to yank on the door again. You pull at it, trying to twist it. But it’s clearly jammed shut.

Nami had made sure you weren’t going to be able to get out.

Minutes pass of you banging on the door, with no luck, until eventually you tire yourself out. 

Head hanging in your hands, you try to ignore the shake of your body as you sit there, forced to wait.

At the first sound of footsteps, you jump to your feet.

“Hey!” You call, banging on the door. “Luffy? Usopp?”

“Y/N?”

It’s Usopp.

Yanking on the door, you call out to him; “let me out!”

It takes him no more than a few seconds to open the door, yanking it open as you meet his eyes with relief.

“Usopp,” you breathe, “you have to listen to me. It’s Nami. She—”

You move to ramble out what had happened, but fall silent the second you see the look on Usopp’s face.

“Usopp?” You question, voice quiet. “Why are you…?”

Just then Sanji comes stumbling down the stairs of the kitchen, with Luffy in his arms, the latter looking beat up and hurt. Both of them are sopping wet.

Your eyes widen.

“Nami, she…” Usopp speaks up, looking nervous. “She betrayed us.”

-

“Y/N, seriously!”

Shaking your head, you stumble behind Usopp. “Seriously what, Usopp?”

You’re mildly annoyed, but you figure he has a good reason—whatever that reason is. He hasn’t elected to tell you yet. 

You’d been getting some sleep after Luffy had practically forced you to, letting you sleep in his and the rest of the guys’ cabin since Zoro was currently occupying yours and… Nami’s. After everything that has happened, it was clear you all needed some time to digest and recoup. Even though you’d been reluctant to leave Zoro’s side, you also knew you needed some sleep or you were going to make yourself sick.

And a twenty minute sob-induced cat nap hunched over a bed didn’t count.

Only, your sleep had been cut short but Usopp all but ran into your room, yelling your name with a wide grin on his face. You couldn’t even possibly begin to think what he could be smiling about given that everything was the worst it could be, but you didn’t get the chance to ask either before he was yanking you to your feet and dragging you with him.

“Usopp—”

Whatever you’d been about to say falls silent, however, when you realize where Usopp is leading you. Body freezing, you turn to him, him already grinning at you, letting the two of you come to a stop. You glance at him, then the room, and then realize you hear a very familiar voice speaking.

Your feet move before you can stop yourself.

All chatter stops the second you come running into the room, and sure enough, still on the bed, Zoro stares back at you, but awake.

“Y/N, look, Zoro’s—!”

You don’t let Luffy finish. You don’t even really hear him speak. You run over to the other side of the bed in seconds and practically fall onto Zoro. In your excitement, you forget about his wounds, to which Zoro groans in response to your hug. Your eyes widen, your first word to him about to be ‘sorry’, as you scramble to pull back. 

His arm falls around your waist before you can.

Stilling in his hold, and now careful to not let your weight fall on him, he holds you for a moment, the entire room distinctly quiet.

Then, his arm leaves and you pull back, staring down at him.

“Hey,” you breathe, unable to stop the curl of your lips. Despite everything, that short greeting is what feels right.

It’s all you can manage.

His lips curve into a soft smile; “hey.”

-

Raising your hand, you softly knock on the door.

Zoro’s head snaps towards you, easing when he realizes it’s you.

You step into the room with a gentle smile, and nod at him; “let me.” You offer, gesturing loosely to the bandages surrounding him. “I got pretty good at it after…” You let your voice trail, and Zoro huffs.

“I’d bet. You never let anyone help you.”

Sitting next to him, you shrug. “I could do it on my own.” Laughing quietly, you pick up the bandages that are wildly thrown about the bed. “Unlike you.”

Zoro scoffs but he doesn’t stop you as you start to unwrap the bandages he’d loosely wrapped around himself, redoing it.

Silence echoes for a moment, before Zoro speaks up.

“I can’t believe the waiter is joining us.”

Huffing a laugh, you roll your eye. “Sanji is nice,” you defend. “And a good fighter I hear from Luffy.”

Zoro frowns. “He’s a waiter.”

You just shake your head, snorting to yourself.

Then, you hesitate, hands hovering. You can't help but ask, since it’s been weighing on you since she’d left. “You think Nami meant it all? That she never actually cared about us?”

“Don’t know,” he shrugs. “Maybe.”

Biting your lip, you frown. You don’t want that to be the truth.

“Y/N.”

His voice is serious as he calls for you, and it makes you freeze.

“I heard you.”

Your muscles tense, and you refuse to let your gaze wander from your hands, fiddling with your fingers.

Zoro doesn’t let you. In the next second, his hand is falling over your own, pulling them away from what you’d been doing. Your lips part as he does, heart fluttering as he shifts his hand so his fingers threads through yours instead of just being wrapped around your wrist.

Your cheeks warm instantly.

“Y/N. Look at me.”

His voice is raspy from being asleep for so long. It sends shivers down your spine.

Still, you listen, raising your head and meeting his eyes.

“I didn’t think you could hear me,” you whisper.

“I could,” he nods. “About your father and…” His voice trails.

Swallowing thickly, you choose to focus on the first thing first. “I… Does it bother you?”

Zoro’s lips part, stunned at your forwardness and you realize your mistake.

“About… Mihawk.”

“Oh,” he breathes. “No.”

It’s not what you’re expecting. He says it so bluntly, so sure of himself.

“It… doesn’t?”

“You have your reasons,” he shrugs, still holding your hand. “And it wouldn’t have changed my mind. Defeating Mihawk is my goal, that won’t change.”

His words hurt you, but you also know that you have no right to argue otherwise.

“I’m still sorry you got hurt.”

Zoro shakes his head. “It wasn’t your fault.” Then, when you don’t respond, he squeezes your hand. “It wasn’t.” 

His voice is sharp and leaves no room for argument.

You nod. “Thank you,” you say, “I’m… so relieved you’re okay.”

Zoro breathes in sharply, and then he lowers his hand, taking yours with him.

There’s a beat of silence, then; “I think I love you too.”

It seems that Zoro is just full of surprises at that moment.

Body turning rigid, you blink at him.

His cheeks have a light flush and he’s now the one turned away. “I… You were wrong… I don’t deserve someone better than you. I… I want you.”

“Zoro…”

He turns back to you, quickly, as if the words are both hard to speak but leaving him before he can stop himself. “But I… I don’t know how to be… I don't know how to be with you,” he explains, the words awkward and forced. You can tell he’s trying, words stumbling off the tip of his tongue. “I’ve only had one friend in my life and she’s dead. Before you guys, I had no one. I don’t know how to be someone you can depend on.”

You let his words sink in and you take in the look on his face. He’s embarrassed, you can tell, but he’s waiting for you to respond, patiently. You realize he’s leaving the decision up to you.

You think of, once again, your conversation with Sanji. You think of how you felt when Zoro had been unconscious in that bed. You think of everything that’s happened.

“I…” You start, voice soft. “I don’t know how to either,” you explain, shoulders dropping with the weight of your confession. “I’ve been alone for so long too, Zoro. And at first I wasn’t going to say anything. I didn’t understand my feelings so I was just going to ignore them. But then… seeing you fight like that and get hurt… waiting for you to wake up… I know that it can happen again. To either of us. I know that neither of us will ever be completely safe. I know you will never give up on your goal.”

Zoro frowns, and there’s a flicker of disappointment in his gaze.

It’s you who squeezes his hand this time, pulling his attention back on you.

“But I don’t want to do any of that without you,” you finish. “I… want to do this all with you. I want to save Nami with you. I want to explore the Grand Line with you. I want to help you complete your goal. Not just as your friend but more.”

The second you finish, breathless, Zoro is pulling you towards him. His actions speak louder than words and it seems his instincts allow him to act without any fluster of embarrassment. It pulls a gasp from your lips but you don’t stop him, hands falling on his shoulders as you lean into his touch. You’re careful of his wounds as he tugs you into his lap, his hands settling on your hips as his forehead falls against yours, breathing heavily.

“Fuck,” he inhales sharply, before shuddering a breath. “Can I kiss you?”

You smile at his response, thinking it’s so very Zoro, and nod. “Please.”

His lips are on yours instantly, pulling you close to him as you cup his cheeks, letting your hands thread through his hair. Your stomach flutters at the kiss, feeling your insides turn to jelly at the sensation. His hands on your skin feel like fire in the best way possible, molding your lips against his as he tugs you closer and closer even when there’s nowhere else for you to go.

You let your nails drag across his scalp, his lips warm and soft against your own.

And then, just as your lips part to allow his tongue to slip inside, a voice calls out;

“Zoro!”

You both pull back, startled. Zoro groans softly as he twists his body wrong, agitating his wound while your head snaps round to see Luffy.

He pauses, hovering at the door, at the sight of you two, you on Zoro’s lap with the both of you looking thoroughly flushed. 

Luffy looks confused.

“Luffy,” Zoro huffs, pressing his hand to his forehead, one still gripping your hip, as you laugh quietly to yourself. “Leave.”

Oblivious as always, Luffy just nods; “sure thing, Zoro.”

You’re positive you’ll be getting an earful from Usopp later.

His footsteps fade and you turn back to Zoro, giggling.

“He never knocks,” Zoro groans, pulling at his hair.

You pull his hand away, moving instead to hold it. Zoro flushes at the action.

“That’s okay,” you shrug. “I imagine it’ll be like that a lot.”

Zoro only groans further at the thought, but he knows you’re right.

You move to stand, slipping off his lap and panicking when you realize you didn’t finish bandaging him properly. Zoro laughs as you fuss over him, moving when you tell him to and watching you with amused eyes.

Just as you sit down next to him, though, he whispers out;

“Together, then.”

You blink at his words, cheeks still a light flush, before you remember your earlier words. 

You smile; “together.”

-

End of Chapter Note: I know that I’ve made the reader Mihawk’s daughter who is canonically light-skinned. I have left the readers mother open to try and be as ambiguous and inclusive as possible. Apologies to anyone that finds this detail stops them from being able to “insert” themselves into the story.

[takuma-talkz]

She’s an enabler - Chapter 1 - You and Me

Chapter summary: It’s all about making some friends and some enemies.

A/N: I’m really excited for this I hope you all enjoy!!! This will cross-posted on ao3, under the same name.

Warnings: Drugs, mentions of sex, language, Nam-gyu will be given the last name ‘Kim’, reader is skin neutral, Thanos and Nam-gyu are in a established relationship, semi-canon divergence, bl references, reader is an instigator

You huff as you sat on the uncomfortable park bench, your gaze drifts off to your performance mananger.

Kim Nam-gyu. Despite, being your manager you and him had a great friendship. You both go drinking and try all kinds of drugs together.

“Yo, Nam-gyu. When’s this pick-up supposed to get here?” You complain, the warm Halloween air making you feeling sweaty and gross.

He was fidgeting with his rings. “Dunno, should be here soon.” He turned to face you.

“You brought it, right?” Nam-gyu tapped his lip.

You dig into your bra and flash a small pouch of pills. If you were going up to a random place, at least you have your drugs with you.

“Good girl.” He mocks.

“Eat shit.” You shot back.

You both share a quick laugh until a van rolls up and the door swings open. Nam-guy enters first and when he ensures it’s safe, he motions for you to enter.

It wasn’t until after about 5 minutes after entering the van, your eyelids grow heavy.

You turn your head to the side and you see Nam-gyu knocked out. Next thing you know, you’re out like a light.

“Yo, bitch. Wake your ass up.” You’re being roughly shoved awake. Eyes blown wide as your gaze meets Nam-gyu’s.

You were about to curse him out for waking you up rudely, when you look down at his outfit.

“pfft, why the fuck are you dressed like that?” You giggled about how ridiculous he looks in a green suit.

He tsks. “You should take a look in a mirror.”

You hop out of bed and waved him off. “Hoe. I look good in everything I wear.”

Nam-gyu rolled his eyes and follows behind you. Whatever this situation is, at least Nam-gyu is with you. You both watch as pink guards enter the room, they stand tall and quite intimidatingly.

You scan the crowd then you spot him. The fucker who ruined your life.

“Gyu. Look over there.” You point at a direction but he’s not paying attention.

“Gyu, are you even-“ You follow his gaze. “Shit, even your boy toy is here.”

Nam-gyu slaps your arm. “He’s not my fucking boy toy.” He had a flush on his face. You giggle as you parade over to Thanos.

“Legend Thanos! It’s you!” You ran up to him, he catches you in his arms and twirls you around.

“Mamacita, what are you doing here?” Thanos smiles at you.

“Gonna make some money, duh.” You hop out of his arms and wave over Nam-gyu, who looks pissed at Thanos.

“Thanos, what the fuck? You said you were out in Seoul performing under a new contract.” Nam-gyu jabs a finger into Thanos’ chest.

“Little junkie, I’m sorry to lie to you. Didn’t think you would understand, my baby.” Thanos wraps his arms around Nam-gyu’s waist, kissing softly at his jawline.

You kinda just stand there, like a female supporting character in a BL.

You spot him in the lines of people signing consent forms.

That damn Lee Myung-gi. Your ex-friend who pushed you into the crypto scene. The man who put you 900 million dollars in debt.

He steps away from the line and you make your move.

“Yo, Myung-gi! Long time no see.” You cut him off from moving any further. He let out a sigh when he ran into you.

“What do you want, [Name?]” Myung-gi gave you an annoyed stare.

“Okay, hear me out. What about giving me the money you owe me?” You jabbed a finger into his chest.

“I don’t owe you anything. You put that money in on your own violation.” He defends.

“You blackmailed me into buying and you know it.” You gripped at his collar and he twisted his body around roughly, pushing you onto the floor.

“You little shit!” You rush to stand up and hassle him some more until Nam-gyu and Thanos take a turn in harassing the bastard.

It was clear Thanos was getting visibly upset by how dismissive Myung-gi was acting. Nam-gyu managed to get Thanos to calm down and you cling to Thanos’ arm to whisper something to him.

“He completely punked you out, hope you know that.”

“Shut up, he’s not getting away with our money any longer.” You three sit by Nam-gyu’s bunk and await for the games to begin.

SHES AN ENABLER Taglist: @i-might-be-vanny @come-as-you-are-111

[wooskirbyplushie]

Make It To The Morning ~ Choi Seungcheol

✰ Choi Seungcheol x Reader

✰ Description: You meet up with an old friend on a night out with your girls, and he seems intent on making sure you end your night with a bang..

✰ Word Count: 3.4k

✰ Warnings: drinking, cussing, pet names, female!reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it when you tap it !), driving under the influence (yea don't do this)

✰ Italics are used for inner thoughts, bold italic is to emphasize words

✰ a/n: Hey guyssss, back again. Currently still working on the next chapter of Our Little Secret, so in the mean time here's a little short I wrote a while back! Eventually I'll have an actually masterlist but for now my other fics/shorts are listed right under here if you wanna go check those out. As always, dividers used are by @cafekitsune so go check them out!

Our Little Secret ~ K.HJ | Not So Sober Nights ~ Kang Yeosang

It was a saturday night, and instead of your usual routine of laying around your room watching dramas and eating junk food, your friends dragged you to a club. You didn’t hate clubbing, it’s just the idea of too many people pressed up against each other in one place wasn’t very appealing to you.

But tonight you had a slight change of heart. You put on a skin tight dress that showed off all the right places, and threw on a pair of heels to match. A bit of light makeup and a few accessories tied the look together, and soon your friends were at your front door to pick you up for the night ahead. 

When you all arrived, the club was packed with the music so loud that you could feel the bass in your chest. There was a slight aroma of weed and flavored hooka coming from the vip sections, and flashing lights that should’ve come with an epilepsy warning. But of course it didn’t take long for your friends to grab you and drag you to the bar to get a drink before you could even think about turning around and leaving. 

One round of shots turned into three, and one drink turned into two and a half, as you were still working on the other half while you were on the dance floor. The liquor got you loosened up, but it didn’t get you any further than tipsy considering you could down 7 drinks and still walk in a straight line. But the drinks did have you bumping and grinding against your friends on the dance floor, drink still in hand. 

After a few minutes of dancing with your eyes closed, taking in every beat and melody, you felt a figure on your backside and eventually felt a hand rest on your waist. They were too tall to be one of your girl friends so who could-

“Now who managed to drag you out of the house on a saturday night and who let you out looking this good hm?”

Hearing the voice in your ear made you calm down a bit as you threw your head back and rested it against the person’s chest, smiled, and locked eyes with them. 

“Hi Cheollll” you sang out just loud enough for him to hear over the music. You and Seungcheol had a very… complicated relationship to say the least. You had hooked up and went on a few dates here and there but never really talked about what it was, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. He gave you whatever you were looking for in the moment and that’s all you really wanted. 

You both danced against each other for a while; rather, you danced against him while both of his hands followed the rhythm of you waist and he left the occasional kiss on your neck. You could feel he was turned on as he pressed against you.

Eventually, he turned you around to face him and took your now empty drink out of your hand. “Can we get another drink cheolie?” You asked with big brown eyes that no one could say no to. Well except Seungcheol apparently because he didn’t budge. 

“No ma’am, I think you’ve had enough tonight” Cheol started off before smirking and leaning towards your ear. “Plus I want you to be sober enough to remember what we do later okay?”

Now whether you were blushing because of the liquor or the image of what could possibly happen later, you weren’t sure. but you were sure that the smell of whiskey on Cheol’s breath mixed with the scent of his cologne was a dangerous combination for you. Your legs were getting weak and he needed to carry you to his bed immediately. 

“You wanna tell your friends I’m taking you home or should I baby?” 

You could text them later.

****

Before you knew it, Cheol was grabbing your wrist and leading you to the back door of the club. He always parked his car out back with the employees since he was cool with the owners, and did not want to take the chance of his car getting stolen or broken into. 

On your way out, you passed by the bar and a vip section where you happened to see your friends flirting with some guys, too distracted to see you sneaking out- or blatantly leaving - with the guy they hated so much. 

Once you reached the door, a brisk breeze hit your face, reminding you that it really wasn’t spring time yet. But because you chose to be cute and not smart, your jacket was still in your friend’s car, leaving you to shiver at the temperature. Cheol took notice of this and took his jacket off of his shoulders and placed it on your own. Was it light? Yes, but it was better than nothing. 

“Oh uh. Thanks.” You mumbled quietly, hoping you didn’t get caught eyeing the way his t-shirt complimented his muscles. Did he not understand you were insane??

“Of course princess.” Cheol replied, putting emphasis on his last word. You weren’t big on pet names, but something about the way he called you princess made you blush every time. 

Suddenly yall came to a stop in front of a black car, a mercedes to be exact. Weird, I thought he had a white ca- 

“Like the new wheels? Got her last week” Cheol said smugly when he noticed you looking at the unfamiliar car. You simply nodded and said it matched his style: expensive and arrogant. 

He chuckled and pulled you closer to him by your waist, that cologne intoxicating the way it filled your nostrils. The last thing you were expecting was for this man to pick you up and sit you on the trunk of the car. 

“Seungcheol! Someone could see us let’s just go to your place.” You protested although you weren’t completely against the idea of fucking him in or on the car. What? You had questionable morals. 

“We will in due time baby,” Cheol started before leaving a kiss on your temple. “Think of this as an appetizer before the main course, okay?” You couldn’t get out another protest before his lips were on yours. Slightly chapped per usual, but god they felt like heaven. He hummed into the kiss while your tongues clashed with each other, the taste of peach liquor on your breath turning him on even more. His hands starting to travel up the sides of your thighs as you kept going.

He had your body so hot that you almost forgot about it being 40 degrees outside until the wind started blowing again. You shivered slightly, breaking from the kiss and lowering your head in embarrassment. “Can we go to your place now Cheolie..?” He complied and helped you off the car after another quick kiss, followed by him opening the passenger door for you. 

****

Once you got to Cheol’s house, he parked and walked to your side of the car where he scolded you for opening your door yourself. You insisted it wasn’t a big deal, to which he picked you up bridal style and carried you into his house. Feeling your cheeks get hot again, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. 

You finally made it to the bedroom after what seemed like an eternity, Cheol sitting you down on his King sized bed before turning to close and lock his door. He walked back over, looking you up and down before getting on his knees in front of you. 

“Have I ever told you how pretty you are? Or how good you look wearing my clothes?” He inquired while helping you get your heels off. You had completely forgot about the jacket, but at this point, you just wanted him to stop being a tease and take it off of you. “Maybe once or five times…” you replied back, eyes watching his every move. 

“Only five? I gotta do better then huh gorgeous?” He said before leaving kisses up your legs, starting at your ankles. You threw your head back slightly and Cheol watched your reactions through his eyelashes. “Seungcheol can you stop being a tease for christ sake” you whined. 

He climbed on top of you, sliding his jacket off your shoulders. 

“Want me to fuck you that bad?”

Well. Yes! “Duh.”

“Then take your dress off”

“Only if you take your pants off”

Cheol smirked and stood back up, undoing his belt. “Yes ma’am”

One thing led to another, and your clothes were in a pile on the floor, leaving both of you in nothing but your underwear. You couldn’t help but stare at Seungcheol’s body, I mean you had seen it multiple times but it always surprised you how defined and prominent his muscles were. And no matter how many times you ended up in this scenario with him, you always got shy and tried to cover up. 

He climbed onto the bed next to you, and pulled you into his lap with a swift action. He had you in a position where you were straddling him, your body getting accustomed a bit too quickly. “Why are you acting like I haven’t seen your body a million times over princess?” Cheol placed a kiss on your shoulder, his hand caressing the small of your back. “That’s exactly why… You probably know my body better than I do at this point.” You replied in a voice that was hardly above a whisper. 

His fingers toyed with the strap of your bra before placing them under your chin, lifting your head just enough for you to make eye contact with him. God his eyes were dangerous. “How about we prove that theory then, huh princess?” Cheol said before crashing his lips into yours. Just like before, you could still taste the liquor on his breath, his tongue going against your bottom lip to ask for just a bit more from you. You obliged and parted your lips just enough for Cheol to slip his tongue in. 

You weren’t sure what to do with your hands, as one was tugging at the bottom part of his hair, the other holding on to his shoulder to keep your balance while you would grind against him, arousal growing with every movement. Coming up for air, Cheol broke away from the kiss to leave kisses and small bite marks on your chest. 

“Cheol you.. you know how I am about hickeys…” you managed out, head in the clouds, dizzy with pleasure. But he wasn’t letting up. “I know baby. That’s why they’re in places only we’ll know about.” He replied while undoing the last hook of your bra, sliding the garment off your body. You hadn’t even realized he was taking it off until you felt the material loosen around you. 

Not even a second after your bra was taken off, Cheol wrapped his mouth around one of your breasts, one of his hands massaging the other. You threw your head back in pleasure and moaned his name, the grip you had on his hair getting a bit tighter. You both continued to move your hips against each other, turning you on even further and wishing that the fabric separating the two of you would disappear. 

Cheol switched from one breast to the other, giving both equal amounts of attention. Eventually he worked his way back up towards your collarbone and neck, leaving kisses all over and nibbling on your ear. “C-cheolie..” you whined in response to his actions. He was driving you crazy and you wanted more than what he was offering. “I know princess, I know..” He trailed off as his hands went between the two of you, fingers meeting your most sensitive spot, rubbing aggravating slow circles on your clit through the fabric of your panties. 

Just as you were about to beg for more, cheol moved your panties to the side and slipped two fingers inside of you, stretching you out for what was to come. He had you falling apart, a whimpering mess on top of him as he fingered you and kissed more over your chest and neck areas. You were already starting to feel your first orgasm of the night approaching, that familiar knot building up in your stomach. “I- I can’t anymore cheol I’m so- so close” You breathed out, reaching down to rub your clit to help you get there faster. “If you’re close then cum for me baby” Cheol said in your ear, speeding up his hand movements. 

His voice was all it took to send you over the edge. You tightened around his fingers before your orgasm washed over you, moaning cheol’s name way louder than you had intended and collapsing onto his chest when it was all said and done. “You did so good for me baby” He said while kissing you on your head. He rubbed your back to help you come back to reality, asking if you wanted to stop or keep going once you were responsive. 

“We can keep going. You haven’t even gotten anything yet-” You started before Cheol cut you off with another kiss. “You know I only care about you baby, I can take care of myself later.” You shrugged in return, arms wrapped around Cheol’s neck. Leaning into his ear, you spoke in a low voice, “But I wanna make you feel good too.” Followed by you kissing on his neck. 

Cheol let out a guttural moan, his head falling against the headboard behind him. His hands stayed on your hips for a short period of time, eventually sliding down and gripping your ass before abruptly straightening up to change your positions. Before you could blink properly, Cheol had you on your stomach, causing you to yelp out of shock. Lifting your ass up so you were on all fours. 

You could feel him adjusting behind you, pulling his boxers just below his dick, and pulling your panties to the side; too lazy to take them off. “Condom?” He asked with a dumbass confused look on his face. “When have we ever used one seungcheol.” You replied, annoyance heavy in your tone. He shrugged and pointed out he was just making sure before teasingly placing his tip right at your entrance. And he did it over and over again until you finally snapped. 

“Christ Seungcheol can you just-” You started but were cut off by him finally sliding in. Both of you let out synchronized moans, your grip on the sheets tightening, while cheol gripped your hair to make you look up at the mirror that was conveniently placed in front of the bed. “Look at you taking me so well princess” His pace picking up with every other word. 

Cheol wasn’t exactly big, but he knew exactly what to do to make you lose your mind. Between the angles, hair tugging, and shit talking (and some praising here and there), he had you damn near crying and screaming out broken mantras of cuss words and his name, the occasional whiny “please” getting thrown in there as well. Eventually you felt yourself getting close to the edge, the pleading getting even worse than before.

“God Cheolie please i’m so close” You whined, not sure how much longer you could last. Snaking his hand underneath you, Cheol went back to rubbing your clit, keeping his same pace. “Cmon baby, what’s stopping you?” He taunted in your ear before he twitched inside you. he was close but refused to cum before you did. “I’m sorry baby but I wanna see your face when you cum..” and just like that, Cheol flipped you so you were on your back. Rolling your eyes, you responded “I thought that’s what the mirror was for.” 

“Something like that but it’s better to see it up close” He smirked as his hips started back up. it was like he hadn’t skipped a beat, your orgasm still so close that you could almost taste it. Cheol fucked into you with one of your legs over his shoulder, occasionally dipping down to kiss on your neck. “Holy fuuck Seungcheol” You moaned out. You had about 30 seconds left in you before you started seeing stars, nails digging into any part of his skin that you could find. Cheol groaned at the sensation getting closer to the edge as time went on. “Want me to-” He couldn’t even finish his question before you cut him off with an immediate yes. 

“Right there oh my g-” Your sentence was cut short by your second orgasm of the night hitting you like a truck. The heat flowed from your spine to the tips of your fingers, back arching off of the bed from the pleasure. Cheol fucked you through your high, his orgasm following shortly after, almost making him go limp from how aggressive it was. He eventually pulled out and laid next to you, kissing your temple and making sure you were okay as he pulled you into his arms. “You feeling ok princess?”

“I feel sweaty, weak and partially sore” To be fair it had been a month since your last hook up. Cheol stood up, pulled up his boxers and picked you up to carry you to the bathroom without another word. 

“All im hearing is round two in the shower!”

“I cannot stand you.”

When you woke up, the sun was coming through slits between the black curtains in the master bedroom, a slight breeze coming from the window furthest from the bed. Your body was sore and you could only imagine how many hickeys were left on your body; more specifically how many did Cheol forget were in noticeable places. They would serve as simple reminders of last night, how aggressive he could be at times, following up with a soft side right after. So it was no surprise when you were given a massage and coddled to sleep by Cheol after such a rough time. The thought of it made you blush, shaking your head to brush off the images replaying.

Adjusting a bit in the bed, you reached over to the nightstand to grab your phone; at least you tried to before a certain someone snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Tryna fuck and roll on me hm?” He asked while placing a light peck on your shoulder. 

Giggling at Cheol’s clinginess, you turned to face him while he kept his grip on your waist. “To be fair, I didn’t exactly plan on staying the night sir. And don’t worry, I was just checking my phone.” It was almost guaranteed that your friends had texted and called trying to figure out where you were and if you were ok. I mean it wasn’t abnormal for you to leave before they did, but you usually left some type of message for them. Somebody must’ve distracted you last night…

“You weren’t gonna stay?? But I was going to make breakfast for us!” Cheol responded with a fake pout. If you didn’t vividly remember last night, his face would’ve made you think he was a little angel. You knew better though. “Woah woah. Decent sex and free food? Why are you still laying here shoo go cook bro.”

“Just decent!?” He replied, holding an offended hand to his chest. You couldn’t help but laugh at how dramatic he was, especially since you said it just to get under his skin. But before you knew it, Cheol was on top of you. The sight looking all too familiar, you stopped laughing and hit his shoulder. “Go cook, I’m hungry” 

“Tell me it was better than decent and I’ll make you a breakfast for a queen”

Oh it was. But you weren’t telling him that. 

“Mmmm it was aight” you replied, holding back your laugh. It was killing you, but you had to play with him justttt a little bit.

Cheol slightly shrugged and adjusted himself above you. “Then I’ll remind you how much noise you were making last night. Breakfast will come after you do”

Your eyes widened in shock. Oh this. This was not in the plans-

[inkyrainstorms]

Okay wait Inky i might be a genius.

I was rewatching The Martian to get a feel for Watney's voice to write Martian Stan better, and I got smacked in the face with an idea.

In the Martian, at least in the beginning, Watney can only communicate with Nasa through these very short, basically coded messages, and it adds a layer of separation of communication

I was thinking how on earth is Ford gonna communicate back to Stan that's not just straight letting them talk to each other over the radio (cause that's no fun)

What if. Ford can only communicate to Stan via cuts between radio frequencies. You ever used a ghost spirit box? It cycles through radio frequencies at a high speed, and hypothetically, the ghosts can manipulate the frequencies together to produce words. One to two words at once usually, though occasionally a fuller sentence.

What if thats how Ford is able to communicate with Stan?

Stan is just listening to the radio and Ford manages to tear apart and rebuild a spirit box (i figure he'd have one for ghost hunting) and be able to manipulate the radio on Stan's end to get in short, crackling words or sentences out into the multiverse.

It wouldn't SOUND like ford, obviously, it would sound like a mishmash of words made up of different songs and sounds, but it would be super interesting!

YES???? YOU ARE A GENIUS OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH

taking notes as we speak, and contemplating the void bc holy fucking this this au is just. It’s taken over my life. I need to start a journal notebook for these epic ideas and then figure out how to turn them into an even epic-er fic

canon now. Stan would freak tf out when it first happened I know that for sure, or he just think he’s hallucinating and brush it off until Polly starts also responding to it in her mimic-sounds-and-voices way, and THEN he’d freak out. And contemplate the fact that ford was actually getting the messages Stan meant for him (was Not supposed to happen) (starts googling ‘how to erase brothers mind of all my epic fails I accidentally shared to him’, except he can’t bc 1. 1982, 2. terrible idea, 3. nightmare realm)

[azurem]

Oooh 💥☝️Sum up the kind of relationship they have 💥🛐 I feel like while they are (GAY) cute together they are still a little toxic (silly toxic) with each other.Something like using each other for some benefit HEHEHAHAHA 💥

Okay this is kinda fun cuz I think it depends on how far along they are in their relationship. However, to be more hmmm concise, I'll explain their dynamic in a "half—half" relationship situation! (Aka they've been a couple for some time but they aren't super-married)

(about them using each other cuz it's long)

First of all we have to have in mind that they both entered the relationship not only out of genuine attraction but also because the other was useful. — In my multiverse, at least, Nightmare's main fuel to start knowing Ink better/manipulate him was because of a single truth in their verse: while most people can AU travel, they can't AU discover (For example, if a fell Undyne wanted to fo back to her verse from a classic AU, she could do it quite easily. But if she wouldn't be able to go to an AU she has never been in).

And while Nightmare can go AU "discover", this method of transportation would be limited to mostly negative AUs anyway. Like, even if he, somehow, managed to negative all the neutral AUs (make everyone miserable) he would never be able to get into pacifist AUs because he can't travel to AUs that have much positivity. This was a problem for him cuz he wanted to have all of the AUs under him and not just half of them. As such, he decided to find a solution, which was to find a multiverse explorer that was able to transport multiple people: Ink.

(the way he discovered it was mostly out of some reasoning ngl. Ink's the natural foil to Error, who seems to go wherever he wants, so it'd be natural for him to be able to travel non discriminately. The reason why he chose Ink was because he was the most accessible and "tame" out of the others he knew about)

Ink's way of using Nightmare mostly relied on stuff he already promised to them: like, being able to call Nightmare's gang whenever he felt like Error was being too much (as in my multiverse lore creativity was running lower than usual so Ink couldn't keep attacking at his usual pace since it's either being able to battle or having emotions) and meta stuff that Nightmare wasn't affected by; he wanted to bait the creators into paying more attention because a partnership between the two of them would be something new.

Anyways with that base talked about it's kinda funny to talk about this. Hm. At a medium point, they don't really use each other like that. Mainly because they found out about something called the emotional wall. They weren't supposed to catch feelings for each other, so these efforts to exploit each other's abilities for their own benefit simply. Can't be done comfortably.

Main one affected by this is Nightmare, who I feel would be the one most attached. While Ink is still somewhat of an asset to him, he has already acknowledged that any true effort to truly weaponize Ink like that would end up with them being affected negatively. Seeing Ink affected negatively isn't particularly attractive to him, so he doesn't. The problem of the limited travel still exists, but he has decided not to think about it for some time forward. (After all, he still has Ink under his sleeve. Even if he chooses not to use him now doesn't mean that he won't be after, right?). Besides this being a thing™ he also knows he's at a disadvantage in the emotional play. He is the one that fell harder. He can't go being too careless if Ink could break him with a few placed words and not vice versa.

Ink is funny because I feel like he would just. Not use much of Nightmare's help like that, even at the beginning. It's a recurring theme I have for Ink that he just likes to suffer. He really enjoys drowning in glasses of water. The thing just got worse now that he got feelings because as he now feels somewhat responsible for Nightmare's actions he doesn't like to really involve him in his deal with Error. It was different when Nightmare was somewhat of a NPC to him as he just assumed it was a character behaving against another (Night having beef with Error and using him as an excuse to beat him up and win them over) but now that he actually believes him a person he's just. Really uncomfortable?? (Would you get your partner to help you defeat a videogame boss? Even if yes, Ink just doesn't strike me as someone who'd ask for help. To me, he just loves to make everything more difficult for himself)

(actual dynamics)

I think they are kind of cute while they're alone. But it's fun to think about love dynamics...!

As I've mentioned before, my usual dynamic for them is that Nightmare's the one that fell harder and the one that's the most sure about the feelings he has. Ink fell after but he's the one that's the most ashamed of how he's feeling. (I like to play that this is when he discovered "embarrassment" and "shame" as true emotions. His crush is shameful. He still thinks of himself as someone above other characters in a way. He gets ashamed of liking Nightmare the way someone gets embarrassed of liking a character too much for their liking). However, while he's ashamed I feel like he tries to overcompensate it by being obnoxious about it?

Like, he knows he's kinda uwu butterflies in tummy yn-ing here. But he's also aware that his romance fic co-protagonist is doing worse. He doesn't get as flustered when he's the one doing the flustering, so he pretty much goes for the kill whenever he has the chance to. Nightmare doesn't fall far behind because he's salty Ink made him fall in love with them, so flustering them would be his owed revenge. They're kinda competitive like that.

(this spitefulness Nightmare has also translates to a desire to see Ink under him/in a lower position than his as a way to gain back control, which is fun to think about. He just really doesn't like the idea that Ink's the one with the most power in their relationship, though he can't fault them since he's the one with the feelings. Evil stuff)

(also theme of love is shame and love is power kinda thing here i dunno)

Toxic stuff (evil)

Okay here comes the heavy stuff. Even taking into account how they wouldn't use each other in practical ways, they'd still be pretty toxic I believe. They grow and get better but. It's a harsh thing. I like wholesome not that angsty stuff so most of the bad behaviors aren't that. Severe?

First of all I think Ink would be neglectful and would just refuse to communicate. He pretty much weaponizes ignoring Nightmare whenever he feels like he's been slighted. Like, Ink would forget to check/say hi, Nightmare would get upset at being ignored and Ink would just go back to ignore him because he didn't like the tone he used when he was complaining. He'd also lie a lot, mainly when he forgets about things they were supposed to do and all that. (Though they ended up neutralizing this one cuz Nightmare now has a vial of paint just to summon Ink if he ever wants to talk/date, so yippie??)

Ink would also just. Not take a lot of hints? He'd play along with most of the stuff he does notice, though. He'd play flustered if he thought Nightmare deserved it as a reward kinda thing.

I think he just wouldn't treat Nightmare much as an equal, even if he's one of the most "person" to him. Habits die hard so I think he would fall to see him as a dateable NPC at times. Kinda condescending in a way.

Nightmare's toxicness is fun to think about, mainly because I think it's. Explosive?

Like, I feel like he wouldn't get too manipulative since he knows Ink. Well. Knows whenever he's trying something funny. He knows Ink would just play along so the idea of doing so feels useless to him. He wouldn't be too abrasive because he also knows that Ink's the one holding the most power in the relationship; Nightmare can't act without any thought behind because Ink would retaliate and he'd retaliate hard. So he just doesn't act very much nor complains too much about it up until he gets upset enough he does.

So yeah. I'm afraid that Nightmare would vampire wattpad boyfriend behave. Sometimes. He'd try to be... Reasonable?? (While he gets jealous he knows Ink's pretty much aroace so he's not making any sense) But he would also semi kidnap Ink whenever he feels like they're forgetting who's supposed to be in charge of their thing. Not very effective since Ink doesn't treat him seriously but it's a thing he would do I believe. Just. Him trying to get Ink to behave "according" to a monarch's spouse but Ink just never caring about it.

Nightmare would also be very. Old minded in a way. He'd try to get ink to wear shoes and stay inside more because he's evil and shouldn't be trusted.

Also he would have a weird fixation into trying to get Ink scared because he feels like fear is one of the only reliable methods of control he has. Not because of him because he doesn't want to change the fact that he's gained his trust but. External factors. He'd have a field day the day he finds Ink's scared of the white/the antivoid, though he would also be shameless and try to comfort him cuz he's a jerk.

I just think they would both be very into reaction seeking. Ink has faked to break up with him before. Nightmare has hid some of Ink's paints just to see if Ink would get more/not care and only drink paint that he already has in his sash. I hate them

[wolvndmouth]

okay ya’ll hear me out

x-24

and this wade

x-24!logan is rescued by worst!logan and wade (laura was extremely convincing). it’s early enough in the timeline that x-24 isn’t the animal we’ve seen before

worst!logan and wade have no idea what to do with him (neither of them thought that far ahead tbh); he’s not 100% a danger to others, but he’s not 100% safe to be around. he is still mute, still quick to anger, but has not yet been broken into the rageful, feral weapon rice trains him to be in the future

he’s more like an angry dog who doesn’t know why they bite; all they know is that they can and will

wade, logan and al also can’t manage one more person in the apartment, much less someone like x-24, who can not only NOT pay rent/bills, but is still pretty volatile at the absence of a proper handler. it’s too fucked up of a thing to ask worst!logan or laura to take the role, and wade is just not the person for this job

but wade knows the exact person for this (and has them on speed dial just in case his logan ever wants to save a horse by riding a cowboy). western!wade knows what it’s like to live life on the run. the tva know x-24 is missing, and sending him to live with this version of wade in his timeline can buy more time

it started off as a favor and short-term shelter. this wade takes him home to his acreage in montana, and even though everyone else sees x-24 as a more of a mutt than a man, wade has a fully furnished guest room for him.

western!wade has broken his fair share of stallions, but this one is by far his toughest challenge. but western!wade is just as stubborn as x-24 and the dog keeps him on his feet, and soon enough, he’s got a bit of a soft spot for the fella

wade doesn’t necessarily handle him like an animal, but he knows how to get his way when it comes to beasts. and x-24 feels safe knowing that. the training involved is satisfying to the both of them, and they’ve both come to an unspoken agreement about how they’ll be living their life together. x-24’s guest room is no longer for guests; it’s now his own. in exchange for room and board, x-24 helps with the farm work

x becomes pretty docile. still mute, still stoic, but has been taught past his purpose of violence to feel, think, and choose. western!wade becomes more patient. still talkative, still wild, but more open to being gentle than wrenching his way. they eat dinner together every night. wade plays old westerns and silent movies one night and hears x laugh for the first time. and they both suddenly have a thought that maybe they’re the best things to happen to each other in a long time

however, the first time x-24 hears western!wade call him a “good boy”, it’s something he never wants to live without hearing again. it doesn’t fix the monster he feels he is, but for a small moment, he feels like he doesn’t have to hurt himself or others to be seen

that same day, while the pair are handling their usual farm work, the tva come for x to bring him back to his proper timeline, but wade just can’t let that happen. wade comes out guns blazing, taking down every agent that’s come without a single thought. x-24 doesn’t even have time to react; wade handles it all. x figures the least he can do is to help to wade bury the bodies and after that night, x-24 doesn’t sleep in the guest room anymore. he sleeps in a chair just outside of wade’s room, and he will not be convinced otherwise. this goes on for weeks, x-24 staying as a watch dog and wade with pistols under his pillow, the both of them ready at moment’s notice to fight for their home

it takes time, but x-24’s place moves from just outside the door, to a chair in the corner of the bedroom, to the floor at the foot of the bed. eventually, he’s sleeping on the bed; still at the foot but with the way things are going, probably for not much longer

x is getting all the horses to sleep in the barn. wade watches him from the other barn door, x petting each one as he locks up each door. every wade has their logan, but to him it almost seems wrong to want this one the way he does. after everything x has been through, it feels like he’s taking advantage. but wade has never noticed the way x looks at him from a far. he doesn’t notice that x never falls asleep first. he doesn’t see x lay awake at night, contemplating his feelings, nor does he see his dreams of their life together, but with more love and less violence. he’s never considered the loyalty that man’s grown for him as anything else but gratitude

tonight though, it’s apparent. wade’s so lost in thought, he doesn’t notice that x has left the barn. he only realizes when he feels eyes stare into him like daggers from behind. he turns around and wade swears the man in front of him looks like he wants to rip him to shreds; the feral look in his eyes could easily be confused with the desire to tear into him

but western!wade has grown to know x-24 in ways no one has ever bothered to. and he also knows what a man’s eyes look like when they look like they want to devour you in other ways. x-24 can smell the way wade’s understanding feels. they stand staring at each other, neither making a move, almost in fear of what coming together might actually mean for them

quietly and without a word, they both make their way to the house, neither one following the other, but neither one lagging behind. they make their way to the room, x closing the door behind him as wade undresses for bed. normally x would wait till wade gets into bed before taking his place at the foot. tonight, he watches as wade makes his way to him. wade looks into x’s eyes as he reaches for the hem of his shirt, asking in the only way he can bring himself to, and is still as a statue until x gives him a nod of his head in approval

both men are down to their boxers, wade taking note of every scar, stitch, and ridge left behind from x’s time in the lab. x had always taken note of how different wade smells bare skin, without all the leather and just the sweat of the day clothing him, but it’s different tonight, knowing how close they’ll finally be. wade takes him by the hand and leads him to the bed, walking him past the foot and to the other side of the mattress instead. it’s a side of the bed that’s been empty for a long time; it doesn’t smell like vanessa or cable anymore. it no longer smells like death, and in more ways than one. wade looks into x’s eyes, one last time before they craw into bed together as if to really ask him if this is okay. x smiles and nods his head, climbing in and taking his spot next to the other man beneath the covers. and as they fall asleep entwined together, they both dream of blue skies, open fields, and of a life they never knew could belong to them

[maari4luiza]

Daddy' friend

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel, your father's longtime friend will be staying at your house

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (reader around 20, joel 55), fingering, Let me know if I forgot something

a/n: there will be no use of Y/N, it's my first one-shot, I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Just remembering, English is not my primary language, so I hope you will overlook any mistakes

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

It's normal every year's end for Dad's friends to get together here at the house. Since in addition to the end of year festivities, his birthday was coming up soon.

Honestly, you had gotten used to it, it was always hectic this time of year. But it never happened that any of Dad's friends stayed here at the house, they always came, spent the afternoon and at 3PM they left.

But this time it was different, this time a friend of Dad's that I hadn't seen since you was 15 showed up, Joel Miller. That man was your 'platonic crush' entire adolescence. you knew that a man of that size would never have eyes for you.

But now your'e wasn't 15 anymore, I was 20, and yet that man still sounded exactly like your dream come true. That Texan accent, the stubble and that mustache over his full lips - damn, that was too much for your head.

Damn, imagining that mustache brushing against your folds made shudder every time that you looked at that man.

"good morning, little girl" Joel smiled mischievously as he looked you up and down "well, maybe you're not so little anymore" Joel laughed softly.

"hello joel. a little early to be here, don't you think?" You asked, glancing at the backpack next to Joel's body.

joel wrinkled his nose a little confused "didn't your father tell you? as I'm coming from textas I'm going to stay here to party with him"

his body froze. like this? Joel Milles, Joel fucking Miller spend at least 15 days at your house? Damn, this can't be real. "girl? is everything okay? can I… um… well, come in?" The man in front of you looked confused and tired, obviously noticing your imminent state of shock.

As soon as the words left Joel's mouth, his trance-like state dissipated. "oh yes, of course… I'm sorry" you tried to give your best smile while still taking in what was happening. "I suppose my father gave the guest room to you" you said as you opened the way with your body.

Joel entered, dropping his backpack near the door as he watched you close it. "Actually, your father said he didn't have time to remove his makeshift office from there" Joel spoke and laughed with that delicious Texan accent "so I think only he can tell me where to stay… speaking of which, so... where is the old man?" Joel laughed again, calling each other 'old men' was a running joke among your father's friends.

"my dad isn't home from work yet, but I bet I can call him" you quickly made yourself available. This was, in a way, an excuse to get away from the man who gave you so many delicious shivers. "Make yourself comfortable for now. There must be some beers in the fridge, and the TV remote is on the couch" were the small instructions you gave before walking away and almost running to the phone.

you only managed to hear a little grunt from joel before calling your father. "oh hi dad. sorry i'm calling in the middle of your work but… um… Miller is here at home… And he would like to know which room he will be staying in" you're mouth fell silent as soon as your father gave the answer. Holy shit.

with your legs a little wobbly you returned to the room. And there was Joel, just sitting on the couch running his fingers through the curls in his own hair. “joel… so…” you walked closer to the couch. "I talked to dad, and he said you should stay in my room" your voice trailed off a little at the end.

"your room?" the man turned around pinching his nose "I can sleep on the couch if you feel more comfortable… I don't want to be a burden" Joel gave his best smile - which by the way, wasn't that good.

"no, no way, you're a visitor, I don't mind you sleeping in my room" you said accurately, but deep down you weren't liking the idea. "and where will you stay?" Joel questioned, returning to his usual frown. "well, I can sleep on the couch" you couldn't help but laugh "or I can put a mattress on the bedroom floor"

And so it was done. The day passed and there you were, at night arranging a mattress to sleep on the floor of your own room. while Joel Miller had the double bed to himself. As I tidied up the bedding, it was impossible to contain a few groans of frustration at being in that situation.

Joel obviously noticed, and after a night of drinking with your father and his friends, he couldn't keep his mouth shut. “What's the matter, little girl?”

“Nothing, everything's fine, Joel. Just enjoy the big bed for yourself,” came a more ironic reply than you had planned. “oh, so the problem is the bed? I'm too old to sleep on the floor, sweetheart” Joel laughed, his voice drunken ”but your bed is really big, I bet we won't have any problems sharing it”

Okay, now you didn't know what made you blush the most. Whether it was Joel inviting you to lie with him, or him calling you sweetheart.

“I don't think it would be good manners as a hostess to sleep with my guest,” you laughed, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Don't be modest, I know how long you've dreamed of sleeping with me,” Joel said, more cocky than usual because of the many beers he'd had.

“I think you're drunk and not thinking straight,” you said, but the tremulous timbre of your voice gave away the truth. Joel was right. “Honey, don't try to lie to me. I've seen the way you look at me since you were 15” the man laughed gutturally ”only I'm not the kind of guy who takes advantage of a little girl… but now… fuck… now you're a big girl”

you and your body moved almost automatically towards joel “and I'm not the kind of woman who takes advantage of an old drunk” you laughed, trying to regain control of the situation. “I won't deny sleeping in a comfortable bed, but I don't think you're thinking for yourself” before Joel could interrupt you concluded ”you'll regret it more than me if we do this”

Joel nodded, it was obvious that even in that state he had understood. and so it happened. you lay down, each on one side of the bed without touching a finger. and there you fell asleep.

Joel probably won't even remember the conversation you had that night - or so you thought.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

you woke up the other day a little dazed, noticing that Joel's presence no longer shared warmth with you. he was probably already downstairs with your father drinking and laughing as usual.

With movements that were still drowsy, you changed and got into bed. Soon after, you went downstairs and found only Joel in the kitchen. “Good morning, Joel… did you sleep well?” you asked a little shyly, afraid that he would remember the conversation you'd had that night.

“yes yes, your snoring isn't that loud” joel laughed bringing the mug to his lips ‘just a slight hangover, I drank more than I should have yesterday with your father’ joel's expression looked a little guilty now, did he remember?

“an? I don't even snore, in fact it was you who snored” you tried to defend yourself. “Oh yes, of course. Forgive me, little girl,” Joel retorted ironically, without having the courage to look you in the eye. “Joel, can I ask you something?” your voice faltered slightly as you spoke.

“Of course,” the man quickly replied, finishing the coffee in his mug. “hm… last night… do you remember what you said to me?” you said so quietly that you doubted Joel could hear you. But he did, and his shocked expression made you realize that he did. “Shit, I thought it was a dream,” he admitted more to himself than to you. “I'm really sorry”

“Is the proposal still on?” you asked, mustering up all the courage in your body - which wasn't even that much. “Darling… are you serious?” Joel's voice dropped a few tones ‘I'm too old for you’ Joel didn't falter in his words.

“I know I'm young, but my mind is well beyond my years" you sighed as you approached joel's body. “And besides… I'm already of age” before you could say anything else Joel sighed ‘You can't even drink yet’ the man quickly retorted.

“look joel, I know what I want. if you don't want to… I'll understand, but know that since I was 15 I've wanted to fuck you” the sudden admission made joel's pants tighten, his cock began to show signs that your words weren't just affecting his mind.

“Don't play with me, when my self-control runs out… I won't be able to stop” he said, holding you tightly around the waist and pulling you close to him.

your lips opened and you let out a muffled moan “are you going to… fuck… me?” you sighed, the question not exactly directed at him

“I don't want to ruin you darling… you'll only get the tip of my cock” that answer made you feel disappointed. after all these years you weren't going to get what you'd always wanted? ‘joel please’ you moaned in protest.

“baby… I'll never be able to forgive myself for taking away your innocence” joel sighed as his fingers trailed down your waist and hovered under the buttons of the pants you were wearing.

“joel please” was all you managed to say before he started brushing your wet folds with his fingers "you're already so wet for me… just for me" joel growled, finally penetrating you with his thick, calloused fingers.

his fingers bent down to hit that sweet spot inside you, making your eyes roll… your delirious thoughts taking you closer and closer to the edge of your release “that's it girl… you can come, cum on my fingers” joel sighed heavily kissing your neck pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

in a few seconds your legs were shaking and you felt that euphoria and finally you were coming. joel couldn't keep his mouth shut, a guttural moan coming from his lips as he fucked you with his fingers during your orgasm.

“Fuck, you're beautiful when you come” Joel sighed, pulling his fingers out of you, and then pulling you closer to him… in a… hug?

your body stiffened, it was the first time joel miller had hugged you. “are you alright honey? did i do something wrong?” he seemed to notice your change in demeanor.

“No, not at all… you didn't do anything wrong” you heart skipped a beat ‘it's just that you've never hugged me before’ you arm went around joel's neck and planted a kiss on his lips.

joel returned the kiss with passion, his mustache brushing against your cheeks. “I think I should hug you more often,” Joe laughed softly, his forehead resting on yours.

“thank you for today… for this” you laughed gesturing to your body ”the pleasure is all mine… darling”

those days that followed with joel in your house were incredible, now sharing a room - and a bed - with him didn't seem so bad… and something deep down in your heart told you that it wouldn't be the last time joel stayed at your house.

[amalthiaph]

Get to know your mutuals!

Thanks for the tag @leapingbadger! LET'S GO!

What's the origin of your blog title? EDIT: I'm stupid, it says "blog title". So, "Daughter of Eve" is one of the names they call humans in Narnia. It used to be "Management Trainee Skywalker" from that Chinese bootleg of ROTS, but as much as I like that one, something really unpleasant happened to my blog during the time it was my name, and every time I open my page, I read it, and be reminded of that one time, so I decided to change it. (One day, I will have the courage to tell that event, but for now, I'll begin to get over it.)

But I don't wanna waste this. So, for the origin of my username: Jupiter's Moon. Amalthea is one of Jupiter's moon. I first used this for League of Legends, and unfortunately, 'Amalthea' is already taken so I tried to change the 'e' into 'i', and that's how I ended up with this spelling.

OTP(s) + Shipname: OKAY, this is going to be great. The answer is Caspian x Susan. They're my first ever OTP. I want to begin this with saying I really like the book canon Caspian x Ramandu's Daughter but Caspian x Susan ended up being a lot more interesting to me. IDK what's up with me but I always go for the ship that doesn't end up together, bec I think happily ever afters are boring, give me some angst, some wishful longing, the AUs, the fix-its, these things are what makes a ship interesting.

Some of the other ships I like are LeviHan (RIP Hange), Zutara (we all know how this ended), Tech x Phee (I still wanna believe Tech lives), and Anidala (this is self-explanatory).

Favorite color: Canary yellow. But for art, layout, and clothes, I like shades of brown.

Favorite game: League of Legends, Need for Speed, Criminal Case, Minecraft

Song stuck in your head: The World Will Know from Newsies: The Broadway Musical

Weirdest habit/trait? Here, let me revise the question: "What's not weird about you?"

Hobbies: Drawing, Reading, Singing

If you work, what's your profession? Architect (I just passed the licensure examination!)

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Any job where I'll be able to design spaces. Designing is therapeutic to me.

Something you're good at: Art.

Something you're bad at: Human-ing

Something you love: My cat, my family, my hyperfixations.

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Star Wars, Narnia, and Newsies

Something you hate: Just like @leapingbadger, I also hate the current state of the world, especially in the country I live in. Election is once again near, and the leading senatorial candidates in the polls are not-so-good people. There are agriculturists, a great lawyer ,an animal rights activist, and a labor rights activist running for senate but the majority of the people in this country surely won't vote for them because "they're ugly" or "they're not stars".

Something you collect: hatred, and Lego sets, and books

Something you forget: I'll do you a better one: "Name something you don't forget".

What's your love language? Acts of service. Also remembering the tiny details of the stories I tell.

Favorite movie/show: Star Wars (with the exception of the Sequels and Resistance), Narnia, and Newsies

Favorite food: Tinola.

Favorite animal: Cats. I accidentally typed "cars" but you would have gotten it anyway.

What were you like as a child? Quiet, introverted, and stuck in her own little world.

Favorite subject at school? Maybe English. Also geometry.

Least favorite subject: Chemistry

What's your best character trait? I like to learn as much of anything as I can, also very observant. Oftentimes, it ticks me off when people aren't like that.

What's your worst character trait? I'll do you a better one: "Is there a character trait of you that isn't bad?"

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? Try "What do you not want to change?"

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Serial killers a day before being executed. I have so many questions.

Tag as many mutuals as you want!! (Sorry if you've been tagged before): @loge2718 @mimpinightmare @dragonrider9905 @ahsokastechie

Get to know your mutuals!

What's the origin of your blog title? When I was in middle school, someone told me "you dress so goth, but your personality is so happy. You're like a really cheerful grim reaper. A joyful soul collector." And that's been my username for most everything ever since!

OTP(s) + Shipname: Oooh, right now it's Jayvik, and tbh I can't think of another one, this is one of the first ships I've been really really into tbh. Other dynamics focused on my blog have actually been more platonic, like Irondad

Favorite color: Red!

Favorite game: Dungeons and Dragons! Both as a player, and DM!

Song stuck in your head: The Challenge - EPIC

Weirdest habit/trait? I download thousands of still frames of tv shows that I love so I can make memes out of them. But I have to sift through and delete all the pictures that are blurry or unnecessary, which takes hours. I think it's super fun because I'm autistic and really enjoy sorting stuff lol

Hobbies: Writing, playing DnD, making memes, and hanging out with my friends!

If you work, what's your profession? Not so much a profession lol, I work at a toy store. It's a part time job while I'm in college, studying to be a radiologist!

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically? Radiologist. But ANY job I wish? Professional DM or Professional DnD player, like the people on Dropout or Critical Role haha

Something you're good at: I'm good at writing stories! I can write them well and write things that make people feel deep emotions, and I like that.

Something you're bad at: Recognizing when someone doesn't want help haha. I tend to try and fix things or help people when they just want to vent, and it ends up frustrating for both of us.

Something you love: I love stories. Any kind, I love so so many

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: My favorite shows and stories, my dnd campaigns and characters, my stories and ideas

Something you hate: Fascism. Bigotry. Willful ignorance. Fearmongering. Propaganda.

Something you collect: Dice!! I'm a dice goblin for sure haha

Something you forget: I often forget chores unfortunately

What's your love language? Physical touch and acts of service

Favorite movie/show: Ooh right now it's definitely Arcane haha

Favorite food: Sushi!

Favorite animal: Cats!

What were you like as a child? In a word? Unwell haha. I'm a good bit better now, still struggling with a lot, but better than I used to do

Favorite subject at school? English, I was always good at that class

Least favorite subject: Chemistry. I hate that shit so much lol

What's your best character trait? I think that I'm kind and willing to stand up for others

What's your worst character trait? I can be disrespectful to some types of spirituality unfortunately. It just doesn't make logical sense to me. I have two friends that are fully convinced that a cursed doll gave some youtuber testicular cancer. And I just can't see the logic or critical thought in that

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? Mmm. All of fascism shit is definitely damaging my calm so I'd love to change that specifically

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Harry Allen. Google him he's a badass transgender cowboy

Tag as as many mutuals as you want!!

@sb-essebi @glitternightingale @blatterpussbunnyfromhell @captainhollowstories @kydrogendragon @misforvendetta @poetryinmotion-author @bocularteletheric @kai-ovillager @thatoneneuvichiliauthor @4amarcanethoughts @alexspearsxoxo @kotonni @buckybucananbarnes @kakesuwolf @martybaker @patheticjayce @sleepycrowhours @aixabi @up-the-bracket @snoopyviktor @emdashflower @humanshapedstress @hellsalore @juuzousmom @softandslow @fangirlshenanigans04 @batmans-attic @lvrstrsh @bluemoyai @tearexxwrites @bodyofvvater @lifeandeathepub @areesespiece @lancesblueazaleas @monaisme @milkywaysipper @carmendyy @tseecka @heazueken @tophat-69 @velocitychroma @prjctdiva @gremlinofchaos @ourvectorviktor @kenjinx @jxmimac @gh0stedvhampir @voxconcordia @arcaneheraldslawyer

ngl I tried to tag ALL my mutuals that I have, but this was how many it allowed me to do before it made me stop lol so here's as many as I could fit!

[trolls-poppy-specialist]

“He’s on your best friends wall? Oh, Poppy, that’s wonderful!”

[worstloki]

there is a difference between being born to a throne, maliciously vying for a throne, stealing a throne, and having a throne thrust upon you when you are already in the midst of an identity crisis. And I fear Loki's place in the line of succession has people unable to differentiate between any of these

[tackrusso]

show tempe gang crossover with the morris islanders would actually have been the best episode of bones ever. btw