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celestie0 · 2 days ago

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gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch7. if u wanna get groceries

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 7/x

ᰔ words. 10.3k

a/n. hiii my ihm darlings!! i don't have much to say in this beginning author's note haha but i have some author's notes at the end if you want to read them. but anywho hope you enjoy this chapterrr :)

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Ovulation is a very scary thing.

You can imagine many great women have had their lives greatly affected by this phenomenon.

This biological release of an egg into the fallopian tubes, simply desiring to be fertilized.

Women who have had their hearts set on their dreams, aspirations, full speed ahead towards the finish line on the other end,

Only to be dragged back by–

You shudder to even mention.

Attraction to a man.

So horrible.

So insane.

So humiliating.

And yet so–...

So natural.

Unfortunately.

You’re pretty sure Sabrina Carpenter has a song about it.

This is what you think of as you lean over the kitchen island, perched up on your elbows as you eat a peach, staring straight ahead at a certain fake husband who is seated on the couch.

He’s looking at the TV, watching some SNL skit he didn’t get to finish last weekend, tilting his head side to side with his grey sweatpant clad legs stretched out onto the coffee table in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He’s got a can of Celsius he’s swirling around with a loose grip, his elbow up on the cushion for a more lax resting state (which unfortunately also flexes his bicep very sexily from the positioning), and he doesn’t really seem particularly amused by what he was watching. And for some reason, it was hot.

You tilt your head to the right, watching him like a predator from across the hall, chewing down on a particularly juicy piece of peach that bursts its juice in your mouth, and you curse the fact that all you can think about right now is sex.

Sex.

When was the last time you had sex?

You postulated a little over a month ago when you and Choso were still together.

Granted, you’ve been too busy and overwhelmed and overstimulated with all the recent happenings of late to provide your own self with any sort of relief.

And God, it was showing.

Showing in the way that, no matter what, you can’t seem to shake the idea of wanting to sit in Gojo’s lap and be the second reason he never gets to finish watching that SNL skit.

Maybe it will help.

Maybe sitting in a man’s lap right now would heal you.

You set the now naked seed of peach down on the counter before straightening yourself up and walking around the kitchen island towards the living room. Gojo’s eyes don’t flicker to you until you’re well in his periphery, and when he looks up at you, he straightens himself up on the couch with curious wide eyes and drags his feet off the coffee table to plant his feet on the rug.

You pull your grandma nightgown up to your knees so that you can sit in his lap, surprise evident on his face as he watches your every movement before you’re comfortably seated on him with your hands on his shoulders.

“Fuck me,” you tell him.

“Wh–” he stutters, “I’m sorry, I could’ve sworn you just told me to fuck you.”

“That’s exactly what I said.” The heels of your hands press into his chest further to the point where it has to hurt.

“Is this a prank,” he asks as his hands fall to hold your hips on reflex.

You sigh, shifting around on his thighs. “Can you just do it already before I change my mind?”

“Wow. That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright. I’ve changed my mind.”

You push off of his shoulders and stand up on one leg, ready to get up and away from him to find some other way to satisfy your desperate desire for a penis, but he reaches out to grab your wrist.

“Heyyy wait wait wait,” he says, pulling you back into a seat on his lap. “Why do you want to have sex all of a sudden?”

You exhale slowly, twiddling with your thumbs as you look at him. “You said it yourself the other day,” you say, “good way to relieve stress.”

“And you’re not gonna kill me afterwards?”

“Umm no promises?”

“Look, as much as I’d like to take you up on the offer, a part of me thinks you’re making a…rash decision here.”

“Oh my fucking god who cares if I am?? Maybe I just wanna fuck for the sake of fucking?? What’s the big fucking deal??”

“The big deal is that, knowing you, you’re not going to speak to me or look me in the eye for three weeks if I let you go through with something you’re not a hundred percent on.”

Your shoulders sulk a little. You thought this would be an easy yes, where he tears your nightgown off and then ravishes you whole on this couch with every primal caveman instinct that’s encoded in his XY chromosome DNA. This was supposed to be spontaneous and sexy…not a candid conversation.

The thought flashes through your head that maybe he thinks that you’re just trying to use him.

“I want to have sex with you,” you clarify. And then a pause. “I think.” You pause for a moment again. “I’m, like, pretty sure.”

He slides you back to where you’re sitting closer to his knees than to his groin, and then fully leans back onto the couch before tucking his hands behind his head like he was physically putting himself in cuffs to prevent himself from touching you any further. “Tell you what. Let’s circle back in an hour, and if you still want to, then sure.”

“I cannot believe how diplomatic you’re being about this.”

“Well isn’t this whole thing between us a diplomatic agreement? That’s what you said to me when we got fake engaged.”

“That–” you blink at him, not expecting those words to eventually be used against you, “...whatever.”

“Also, what happened to the no sex rule?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He grins and leans forward, both of his elbows settling onto the top of the cushion behind him, and you’re proud of yourself for only staring at his biceps for 0.000034 seconds before meeting his line of sight again.

“Are those rules just suggestions?” he asks with a stupidly teasing look on his face.

You purse your lips together, skin feeling warm suddenly as you try to push him away by a palm to his sternum. But then you realized something. A fundamental rule of biology. The woman never chases.

You smile at him, cheeky in a deceptive way that’s meant to scare him, and it does seem to alarm him when you push him back onto the couch rather forcefully. His hands fall to hold your hips again as he looks at you with round eyes, and you scoot forward on his lap, to where you’re almost sitting right above his groin.

“Hey–” he says, like a warning.

Like some awful romantic comedy, you’re drawing the tip of your nail down the front of his chest seductively, leaning forward so he catches the faint scent of the perfume you spritzed onto your skin in the morning, and you can tell it’s working from the way he tips his chin up in interest. You innocently “shift” in his lap to get comfortable, and see his throat bob when he swallows hard from the feeling. The finger that’s been running down the soft linen of his shirt trails up until it runs through the hair at the back of his neck, and he’s pulling you closer to him now by a rough grip on your hips. His breathing picks up, eyes somehow wild yet calm as he looks at you with a set jaw, and you try your best to maintain a sultry expression as you tilt your head down at him while strongly fisting at the longer strands of his hair that fall short at the nape of his neck. He shifts underneath you, sinking further into the couch, his breathing fast enough to where you can see the rise and fall of his chest, his gaze finally dropping to your lips as he parts his own, and he briefly runs his tongue over his bottom lip before–

Before the doorbell rings.

You both blink at each other.

You don’t even realize how close you two were to making out until you realize you can’t even see the tip of his nose anymore.

“My, uh,” he starts, voice sounding gruff so he has to clear his throat, “my wood just came.”

“Y–” you glance down at his lap, “your wood just what?!”

He leans away from you, sinking his back into the cushion and pointing over his shoulder with a thumb towards the door. “The cedar planks I ordered to finish my woodworking project. Pretty sure they just got dropped off.”

You blink at him, releasing the grip you still had on the hair at the back of his head, your arms moving to weakly rest on his shoulders instead. “Oh.”

“I’ve gotta go sign the delivery.

“Okay.”

“Sometime today, preferably.”

“Alright.”

“Can…can I head to the door? Is that allowed?”

“...I suppose.”

His fingers that were still resting under your butt in a strong grip push up gently on the flesh to prod you off of him, and you (reluctantly) swing your legs off of his lap then slump down onto the couch indignantly beside him, twiddling with your thumbs as you watch him get up off the cushions with a small grunt from the push of his palms on his knees. And then he heads to the door.

Continuing to assess your cuticles with the tuck of your chin towards your collarbone, you hear Gojo talk to whoever was at the door. Another masculine voice. Sounds younger, probably younger than you. Delivery boy. Gojo makes easy conversation with him, some buddy-buddy diction that’s entirely lost on you, and you hear the other man laugh. And the fact that you feel equally as possessed to want to fuck the delivery man makes you realize you need to put yourself in a cage the next time you feel like this.

You hear the door close along with the metallic click of the lock, and you peak your head up over the top of the couch to look at Gojo, who is leaning a giant cardboard box that looks really heavy against the wall. He then exhales, dusting his hands off and he’s stretching his neck from side to side again.

He glances over his shoulder to find you still looking at him.

“You woodwork?” you ask him.

“Yes.”

“Wait. Is that the noisy thing you do at six in the morning while I’m trying to sleep after a night shift?!?!”

“It’s not that noisy,” he says, leaning back onto the wall and crossing his arms. Then he grins. “Want to see what I’m working on?”

“No.”

“Oh come on.” He jerks his head towards the kitchen leading out to the screen door of the backyard. And then he’s shuffling his feet off into that direction. “Humor me for once.”

You slide off the couch onto the floor, grumbling something to yourself before you stand up onto your feet and shuffle your feet across the hardwood floor to follow him, the hem of your nightgown sliding across the surface.

Gojo pulls the screen door back and you step out into the pleasant afternoon. It’s sunny, with crisp air that settles on your senses, the casted shadows of clouds that slowly pass over the grass reminding you of your childhood, or perhaps of simpler times.

You step into the flip flops you see near the shoe mat, and they are nearly twice the size of your feet. Gojo opts for the dustier pair located behind the grill and then he walks across the grass of his backyard towards the shed tucked away near the side of the house. You’ve always been able to briefly see this shed from one of the windows in your house, but you could never see what went on inside.

He unclasps the metal lock on the wooden door of the shed and pulls it open with a creak. You peer inside, the smell of wood shavings and some other rather comforting chemicals hitting you almost instantly. You also sneeze. And then sneeze again.

“Bless you,” he says, and when you glance at him, he’s smiling at you before he takes a step inside. You cross your arms and rub your elbows, feeling feeble in your ditsy nightgown as you step into a space that looks far too industrial for you.

“See?” Gojo says once you’re fully inside the shed with him, drawing your gaze from the dusty ceilings towards the covered structure in the center of the workspace. He pulls the blue tarp back, revealing something square-looking. “It’s a coffee table.”

Your eyes widen slightly as you tilt your head to assess it. “Oh. It’s–...it’s actually quite nice.”

“Yeah.” He knocks on the surface with his knuckles. “It’s pretty sturdy. I’ve been looking to replace what I’ve got in the house for a while now. And–” he straightens himself up again, pushing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “That wood I just got delivered is black walnut. Stunning stuff. I’m going to use it to finish the corners and the cabinets.”

“Ahhh,” you say, expressing interest. I mean, you were intrigued by his many strange hobbies. How can you explain this…you suppose after many years of working, sleeping, eating, and taking care of your mom, it's somewhat pleasantly disorienting to find yourself in the middle of a normal person’s life. Someone who has time to woodwork in his free time. Endearing. It was kind of endearing.

“I’ve gotta flip it over though,” he says with a sigh, “I fucked up and forgot to build the base first.”

You lean back on one of the cabinets behind you that was level with your hip, and you watch Gojo for a moment as he bends down to assess all angles of the table before he grips the underside of it with his hands, the strength of his grip evident in the strain of the veins running up his arms and disappearing into the short sleeve cotton of his shirt.

But he glances up at you before moving it. “Can you stand over there?”

“Huh?” You blink at him.

“Don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Oh,” you say, and realize you were standing in quite literally the exact zone of potential danger. You make a mental note to work on your survival instincts.

You lean off of the cabinet and step off to the side.

You watch as he begins to lift up on the table, his biceps flexing with the movement, oh and that grunt that leaves his lips once he’s got it at the angle he wants hits you somewhere you wish it didn’t. The sight of him leaning over, letting out a slow exhale as he slowly sets the table down on its side over the cushioning mat had you in a trance.

Once he’s satisfied with wherever it’s at, he steps away from it and dusts his hands off. “Alright.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Got an hour to work on this.”

You nod at him.

He glances over at you.

You stare at him.

He stares at you.

“Did–...did you wanna watch?”

“Nope,” you say, shuffling your slippers to the other side of the door. Because you fear that catching the sight of him all sweaty and disheveled from woodworking would get you into serious trouble today. At least you know when to call it quits.

In the hour that Gojo spends doing god knows what sort of manly sorcery in that shed, you get dressed into something that wasn’t a cozy nightgown much to your dismay, and head over to your house next door. You figure you could use this time to clean up the place a little so that you can take pictures for the house on Zillow.

When you step inside the house, the nauseating smell of medication hits you. It’s a smell that you can only know if you’ve lived with it for years. Something artificial, something that smells–...well, sick. It’s a scent you associate with sickness. It hits you randomly sometimes with the patients that you treat at the hospital. Patients that smell just like your mom does. Something akin to a pill closet. You’ve always cursed the human tendency to assort semantics to certain senses, because then it only takes away all the healing you thought you had gotten through.

You walk down the hall towards your mother’s bedroom. You figured you’d start here first, since it would be the most difficult to clean for you. Her bed is set up neatly, exactly as you left it before she left for hospice three weeks ago.

Her well-worn rocking chair sits near the window with the old knit blanket she made over twenty years ago draped over it. It faces the window instead of the inside of the house, which was a habit she always had throughout her life. Maybe as an art teacher, she always felt that whatever was outside was more intriguing than within.

You run a hand by the sturdy wooden dresser covered in dust and scattered medications, along with all of your mother’s draped headscarves. She liked to change them every day, the pattern of each of them aggressively absurd and somewhat hypnotizing, but it fits for her age–that sort of clothing. Your mother used to have beautiful hair. It was something all her friends had always been jealous of. She made the decision to shave it all off rather than watch as it slowly detangled from her hair from chemo, and she claims to have stashed it away somewhere, but you know that she likely donated it instead.

When you make it to her desk, you see paint splattered over it with a rusted easel holding up a blank canvas. But there were swipes of paint across the palette, as though she were trying to find the perfect blend of colors, but failed before she could put brush to canvas. Beside her little art setup, you see a little sticky note with scribblings on it.

Morning tea

Medications- Gabapentin 600 300

Today is Thursday. Oct 16th

800 432 5555 call Dr Johnson

Turn off the stove

At the very bottom:

- daughter. Nurse. She loves you

You suck a deep breath in, releasing it slowly.

This was an impossible task.

To stuff all of this away into boxes.

All of this life.

You slowly peel the sticky note off the desk, folding it neatly before placing it into your pocket. Then you start with the canvas, the easel, the paint. Exactly as is, without cleaning anything at all, you stache them away into boxes. You wanted to preserve what you could, even if it was all for show.

By the time you finish cleaning out her desk, you feel winded from emotions. You decide to take a break and try to clean whatever was upstairs instead. Before you leave the room, you see another sticky note written behind the door.

remember ! wear your sweater, it’s cold today

And that’s when you start crying.

•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•

”Hey,” you say as you walk back into Gojo’s house in the early afternoon, holding up a digital camera that you found in the attic in your hand. “The upstairs of my house is cleaned out now, and I’m almost done with the downstairs part…just waiting on finishing one room. Can we start taking photos to put the listing up online?”

Gojo glances up at you from where he’s stood in the kitchen, tugging at his sleeves, and you just now notice he’s dressed up in a dark navy suit with a white shirt underneath. No tie. “Uhh yeah I can help you with it, I’ve just gotta go run a few errands and then we can do it when I get back?” He ruffles his hair a bit and you see that it’s slightly damp like he just took a shower.

“What errands?”

“Gas, amazon return, Costco. Maybe get a donut if I’m feeling like being a bad boy.”

“Ew. Also, why don’t you get gas at Costco?”

“It’s a little cheaper at Sam’s Club.”

You gasp. “You have a Sam’s Club membership??”

“Yes.”

“You’re a traitor.”

He rolls his eyes as he pushes his shoulders back to get better settled into his suit jacket. “I have a Costco membership too.”

“Can I come?”

“What? For–...for the errands?”

“Yes.”

He blinks at you from the other side of the island, brow furrowing slightly. “Uh. Sure?”

You know it sounds silly to say, but not having to take care of someone twenty-four-seven has left you with little to no sense of purpose, and an even more intense feeling of loneliness. And as much as Gojo gets on your nerves from time to time, you’ve noticed that you’ve been…craving his presence lately. Or maybe a presence might be more accurate than any one specific person, but you can comfortably admit it to yourself that you’re a somewhat codependent person that enjoys being largely implemented into someone’s life. You’ve even started borderline nesting in his home. You bought two new fluffy throw blankets for his couch, set up a bowl of fruits at the center of the kitchen island, and stocked up on laundry detergent, even though he already had two backup boxes. It was driving you crazy. This feeling of having too much free time and personal space than what you knew what to do with.

And it had been a while since you went to Costco. The holy land for all adults.

“Can I get this? Ohhhh what about this? Can we get this too? Wait. Wait. Brown sugar boba mochi?!” You hold the packet up into the air as if it were baby Simba in the Lion King, and then you turn to Gojo, clutching the bag to your chest. “Please?”

He exhales, leaning over the handle of the shopping cart and levels his gaze with you. “...no.”

You sulk your shoulders and sigh as you put it back.

He begins to push the cart down the aisle again. “You do realize that you have disposable income too, right?”

You trail after him. “No. I don’t. I’m in six figures of debt.”

He nods. “Fair.” And then he grabs a stray bag of brown sugar boba abandoned on top of the instant rice boxes then places it into the cart.

You watch as Gojo makes his rounds around Costco, very diligently aligning all the items in his shopping cart and assessing the quality of each thing he crosses off his list before deeming it worthy of purchase. Much different than your usual Costco run, which involves a lot of chaos and sweat. And he feels very husband material like this. Breaking no sweat to put the garden fertilizer in the cart shelf meanwhile you would’ve pulled your back out trying to do the same if you were on your own.

As you two make your way through the store, you get stopped by the post-office man, and then the local judge, and then the elderly couple that runs the church's weekly Bingo nights. All greeting you politely with a quick exchange of words and usually a sweet regard for your mother’s health before passing on by. You keep having to introduce Gojo as your husband, and many of them already know who he is, despite the fact that he’s only lived here for a year, which royally pisses you off to great extents, but he’s a social whore so it makes sense. And then all of them coo sweet things like wow, what a beautiful couple and you’re so lucky to have each other and my oh my he’s very handsome and at this point you would pay someone twenty bucks to say something like well she’s a looker! good for you! to Gojo because you’re sick of him always getting the ego boosts. When asked where you guys went for your honeymoon, you both say “Greece–” “Maldives–” at the same time in typical unrehearsed fashion. One of the town locals even asks when the two of you are going to have a baby, and you almost snort your free sample of San Pellegrino out your nose.

Perhaps the only thing that keeps a little pep in your step is the fact that everyone greets you first before they catch the familiar sight of Gojo too. It’s a small thing to celebrate, but when you’ve lived in the same town your whole life, it becomes somewhat of a prideful and wholesome thing when the town librarian, local mechanic, and farmer’s market lady all stop you in your lovely little Costco stroll. It was all in a day’s work.

“Jeez, you’re hella famous, y/n,” Gojo says as he continues to push the cart down the aisle after you just got done catching up with the volunteer Fire Chief.

You toss your hair over your shoulder at him. “Yes. I am somewhat of a princess in this town.”

“Does that make me your prince?”

“No. You’re my filthy peasant.”

“Alright…I like where this is going…”

“Get your nasty degradation kink away from me, you perv. This is Costco. It’s the holy house of God.”

Once you two make it to the wine section, you stare at bottles of dessert wines and hear Gojo talking on the phone off to the side.

“Hey, Sana. I’m at Costco right now. Do you guys need anything? I already got Juno’s muffins,” he says into his phone as he places two containers of blueberry muffins into the cart. You eye the raspberry cream cheese strudels. “Huh? Cornstarch?....If I tried to look for cornstarch at Costco, I’d be here for three hours.”

“Satoru,” you say to him once he gets off the call, tugging at his sleeve, “could we get those Haagen Daz ice cream bars? They’re so good.”

“No,” he says, pushing the cart down the chip aisle before he grabs a bag of tortilla chips. “We can’t get anything that needs to be frozen or refrigerated. I’ve gotta go prep a house that’s in the area since we’re out this far. I’ve got an evening showing.”

“What?!” you exasperate, “I thought we were just going home after this!”

“I never said that.”

“I can’t believe this. I had been dreaming of grabbing those ice cream bars since you mentioned the word Costco back at home. You could’ve brought your little cooler thing that you keep in the garage.”

“Well, I didn’t know that you wanted to come with me,” he says. “My original grocery list had seven non-perishable items on it.” You both glance at the cart, which was almost entirely full of things that you put in there. Things that nobody ever needs. Like a bladeless desk fan and an electric wine opener.

“Ah,” you say.

He smiles, leaning over the cart handle again and pushing it forward again away from the chilly air of the cooler section. “Retail therapy?”

You pout a little. “I haven’t had the chance in years.” You glance at the cart as he pushes it. “I should probably take it all out now.”

“It’s fine,” he says, “I’ll get you your bladeless fan. And whatever the fuck those other things are.”

You stop walking, blinking blankly at his back as he continues to wordlessly push the cart forward. There’s about a five second delay before you finally start trailing after him.

By the time Gojo finishes loading everything into the trunk of his car as you merely stand by for emotional support, and then he comes back from the long trek of returning the cart, you’re absolutely winded. You’re not sure why, because again, you haven’t really done much all day. But God damn, you forgot how exhausting it is to be a regular functioning member of society that contributes to the economy on the weekends (you didn’t pay for anything).

Gojo wordlessly takes off from the Costco parking lot and just when you think he’s going to get back onto the freeway to get to this house of his that he needs to prep, he jumps into the parking lot of a small shopping area before he parks his car in front of a smaller grocery store.

You give him a puzzled look.

“Hold on,” he says before clicking his seatbelt off, “gotta go get that cornstarch.”

“Wait—” you say, reaching out to grab him by the sleeve of his suit jacket as the most intense sensation of FOMO you’ve ever felt in your life overtakes all of your senses. “I’ll come with.”

He quirks a brow at you. You’re not surprised at his confusion. After all, you’ve been acting like some drug addict in withdrawal of social proximity to him all day long. But you’re at least glad he doesn’t express any further bewilderment and allows you to follow him inside the store like a duckling.

As Gojo veers off in the direction of likely corn starchiness, in a confident manner that would suggest he’s been to this store many times before, you meander about the aisles at your leisure. You get lost in the bustling colors of produce stacked neatly on top of one another, such that they could rival the great pyramids of Egypt. Not to mention, processed foods lining the wall right next to it. This was what suburban life is all about. Matter of fact, this is what dreams are made of.

“y/n?”

Oh, fuck. That voice is definitely not what dreams are made of.

The opposite, actually.

Nightmares.

You hear that voice in your nightmares.

You turn on your heel to find none other than your ex boyfriend, he who shall not be named (Choso Kamo), standing right behind you as he holds a grapefruit in his hand, blinking at you dumbly with surprise apparent on his face.

“Wh—” you briefly stutter before the automatic scowl settles onto your face. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I’m buying fruit.”

“For what?”

“What do you mean, for what? To eat, obviously.”

“I don’t know. I’m not convinced you wouldn’t try to fuck that grapefruit. Given you have low standards for what you stick your dick inside of.”

“Uh?…I’ve stuck my dick inside of you plenty of t—”

“Shut it!!!” you yell at him, then turn away with a wince on your face. “I didn’t think it through before I said it.”

“As usual?”

“You’re being a jerk. You know who I meant when I said that.”

“Okay. So, you don’t think things through before you say them. And I continue to deflect said things. Let me know when anything’s changed between us, y/n.”

You cross your arms at him menacingly and unwaveringly glare at him as a meek mother pushes her young son by the shoulders away from the two simmering adults having their savory conversation within the produce aisle. You’re about the snark out another comment but then the automatic water sprayers interrupt your flow. And also a scrawny employee drops a giant box of eggplant onto the ground before placing them onto the produce shelf.

“What are you doing on this side of town? You’re never out here,” Choso says as he sets the grapefruit back onto the stack.

“I don’t know. What are you doing here?”

“This is my new go-to grocery store.”

“Why not go to the Trader Joe’s that we always used to go to? It’s way closer to you.”

His shoulders sulk slightly at that.

Oh.

So, he’s been driving an extra thirty minutes each weekend to go grocery shopping on the other end of town,

Just so he doesn’t have to run into you anymore.

“Look…y/n,” he starts, “it’s not that I don’t want to see you—”

“Choso—”

“It’s just that you accuse me of fucking inanimate objects everytime I do see you.”

“I literally do not care if you do or don’t want to see me.”

He narrows his eyes at you, his gaze flitting downwards to your crossed arms, something catching his eye.

You glance down at yourself, and you catch the glimmer of diamond underneath bright fluorescent light.

“Oh come on,” Choso grumbles, “don’t tell me you actually wear that thing twenty-four-seven.”

“I’m a married woman, Choso. It’s what married women do.”

He clenches his jaw at that, tense enough to cause a vein strain in his neck, his brows narrowing into contempt, but just before he can say anything else, an arm wraps around your waist and you’re being pulled back into a broad chest.

“She’s pretty, huh?” you hear Gojo say and you blink up at him with your chin tilted towards the ceiling, and you yelp as he possessively pulls you in closer to him as he establishes jarring eye contact with Choso with that same old easy grin on his face. “Thank god I’m the one married to her.”

Choso almost blows a fuse at that. “I know she’s pretty,” he says through gritted teeth, “for six years, I was the one that got to f—”

“Ahh!!! Sale on tomatoes!!!” you interrupt the crass and ridiculously toxic masculine energy in the air as you wiggle out of Gojo’s grip then run over to the pristinely stacked romano tomatoes, picking some of them up and holding them like precious commodities. “Maybe we can make some tomato soup with grilled cheese tonight, honey???” you say with a forced smile towards Gojo as you now hold fifteen tomatoes in your arms, a couple of them falling to the floor with a bounce as they roll away.

“HEY!! LADY!!” the scrawny eggplant stacking employee from earlier yells out at you. Some late teens kid with acne speckled across his face and shaggy brown hair scattered over his forehead, somewhat slick with either gel or grease. “I just set those up!!! YOU SQUASH ‘EM, YOU BUY ‘EM.”

“Sorry,” you squeak out, putting the tomatoes back onto the display somewhat haphazardly before grabbing Gojo’s arm and tugging him towards the exit. “Let’s get out of here, please.”

“Huh? I’ve still gotta pay for the cornstarch though,” Gojo says, hardly budging despite your best efforts to womanhandle him.

“No time for that, we leave now. They don’t have cameras here, anyway. I already checked.” You continue to tug on his arm, your body leaning at an almost forty-five degree angle towards the exit as you struggle to get some drag to his feet, but again, he doesn’t budge.

You don’t know exactly why you so adamantly want to restrict Gojo from interacting with Choso, but maybe a part of it was embarrassment. You didn’t want Gojo to find out what Choso did to you and what an absolute fool he had made out of you. It would hurt your pride.

“Isn’t this guy a cop?” Gojo asks as he points his thumb towards Choso. “And you’re telling me to shoplift in front of him?”

“Can you just be on my fucking side for one second?” you grit at him, yanking on his sleeve so hard you almost tear the cuffs out of the holes, and he finally sighs before relenting into a gait towards your general direction.

As you hug Gojo’s arm tightly to keep his momentum towards you, you walk backwards and send Choso a nasty glare. His eyes are wide, studying you and Gojo together as you get further and further away from him. And for a brief, brief, brief, ever-so-slight fleeting moment of love and familiarity and the sight of his dark hair curling at the nape of his neck and the memory of warmth when he used to hold you in his arms in bed on cold winter mornings, you find that you miss him a little. But only a little. You swear that it’s only a little.

Gojo still makes a pit stop at the register much to your pleading dismay, but as always he has zero regard or interest for your melodramatic outbursts, but at least he shoves the extra change from the purchase into his pocket in a somewhat timely fashion so that you two can head out the door in your artificial haste.

In the car, you quickly click your seatbelt on and then have to watch Gojo as he takes his time clicking his back into place and enter some address into his car. You see the ETA on the GPS, and how it shows that this address is roughly thirty-four minutes away.

Once he gets onto the freeway, your mind begins to wander back to seeing Choso at the grocery store and how the sight of him rattled you. You twiddle with your thumbs in your lap nervously, shift around in your seat, chew at the edge of your nail, and Gojo seems to notice this.

“You know, having lived in this town your whole life, I would think you’d be used to the discomfort of running into people you don’t want to see,” he says.

You sigh. “Yes. In theory. But with Choso, it’s–…it’s different.” You hesitate. “It’s just that—” you try again before worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, “it’s just that, sometimes I don’t get him.”

Gojo is silent for a few seconds as he stares straight towards the road before he responds with, “What do you mean?”

“Like, he avoids me like the plague, and then begs me to go back to him, and then he pretends like I’m just a nuisance to him, and then when he sees me with you, he acts all—…I don’t know…all—”

“Jealous?”

You sink into your seat. “Something like that.”

“Hm. Yeah, to be honest, I don’t know. But you’re not wrong to find it strange.”

Feeling strangely validated in your feelings, you sit there twiddling with your thumbs and then glance out the window. There’s a silence that lasts maybe ten seconds before you say,

“Thanks for interrupting back there. Although, you don’t have to try to deliberately make him jealous anymore. Even though I know I literally asked you to do that. Which makes me a woman of severe psychiatric ailment. Of which I am slightly embarrassed about at the moment.”

“Nah,” he says as he turns the right onto the freeway entrance. When you look over at him, he has a smile on his face. “I like it. It’s never boring with you.”

Unsure if that’s a compliment or some shade of insult, you say, “and that’s a good thing?”

He shrugs, releasing one hand from the wheel and curling the other in a tight knuckled grip at the top of it as the car drives steady down the freeway. He rests his right elbow on the storage console. “Well, it’s different from what I’m used to.”

What are you used to? You so badly want to ask him.

But a flashback to his childhood bedroom at his parent’s house comes back to you.

Yearbook signatures, trophies, and photos abandoned underneath a bed.

You almost don’t even want to acknowledge that he has lived a life before you.

Was that self centered? Or perhaps childish? Or perhaps all in human nature?

You decide not to respond, instead directing your attention to the world outside the car window. The blades of grass dance across the shoulder of the road, all greenery following suit in the same swift motion. You watch as the land slowly turns from developed to more and more remote, yet still cozy and charming. Fields of green, vineyard arrangements, a wooden sign for a winery, a picturesque red barn house, a small cattle farm, an old town church with a bronze bell, hills of empty acres that are just begging to be touched by some great idea or civilization.

You’re privy to change in texture underneath the wheels as Gojo makes a turn onto gravel road about two miles after getting off the freeway. He drives up a hill, maybe a forty-five degree angle, with the crunch of rocks rubbing against the tread of the tires and you see a more distinct, purposeful arrangement of short decorative trees that line the properties of this narrow gravel road. They were large houses, sitting on slightly slanted hills that were all a part of a bumpy landscape that extends for miles. Some had formal fences, some had chain links, but all had expansive yards with no clear distinction of boundary, where the backyard could be the front yard too if only you had the imagination for it.

One house in particular catches your eye. It’s a pretty two story house with a detached garage or perhaps shed, painted in a dusky auburn with dark wooden paneling and structure. It sat near the top of this hill, the front yard being a steep upwards slope of grassy terrain that stretched for the full length of the property, about a hundred yards. The backyard dips behind the back of the hill, downwards into some territory you cannot set eyes on. But it’s stunning. It was gorgeous. Serene. With views of lush green surrounding its every corner. Intimately located, yet open enough to fresh air in which you almost feel one with the world. And in the early evening light, it looked like heaven.

You let out a slow exhale as you take in the sight that looks like a painting to you. There was something so romantic about a home. For as long as time, humans have enjoyed personifying objects, such as boats or planes or cars or trains. But what could feel more of a living thing than a home?

You hear Gojo click his seatbelt off beside you and you glance over at him. You click off your own seat belt and open your door, stepping out onto the gravel road.

Gojo comes around the car and approaches you, holding a folder in his hand with papers you can only assume have information on the property listing. You also hear the jingle of keys in his pocket as he pushes his hand into it.

“Got about,” he glances at his watch, “twenty minutes to prep. Oh, and if my clients ask, I’ll just introduce you as my assistant. And we’ll pretend that we have some sort of inappropriate workplace relationship. Just to intrigue them. It’ll make the house more memorable. Sound like a plan?”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever gets food on your table.”

You watch as he pushes a copper key into the rusted lock that was clipped onto the chains holding the fence together, guarding the property. He yanks it down once he’s unlocked it and then pulls the fence apart, opening the way to head up the house. It borders on a feeling of trespassing, but you trail closely behind Gojo as he makes his way up the grassy hill, reminding yourself that he has the clearance as a realtor.

You glance around the property a bit more. There’s a small pond in the dip of one of the smaller hills, fuzzy with moss and some small fish you can see snapping at the surface of the water. Off to the right of it, there are similarly moss covered stone benches, small and antique. Perfect to sit there and watch the sun set behind the house. And towards the left, a small gondola with arranged stained glass stepping stones.

“Charming, huh?” Gojo says over his shoulder at you, and you realize he’s caught you staring at everything in awe.

Gojo makes it to the veranda after lengthy strides across the broad concrete steps that lead to the most stunning hardwood door you’ve ever seen in your life. He turns around to glance at you when he realizes you’re still stuck at the bottom of the steps, digging your heels into the ground underneath you.

“It’s–” you start, looking across the landscape while melancholy washes over you, “...I just can’t believe that someone gets to live here someday.”

He pushes his hands inside of his pant pockets, silent for a few moments. “Is everything alright?”

You look up at him, the question threatening to make the rawness in your throat burn even more. “Yes, I just–” you scoff at yourself a little before turning back to face the little pond, now further in the distance, “I just realized that I’ll probably never be able to afford a house in my life, so I’ll never really know what it’s like to have a realtor show me around a home I could potentially one day call my own. It’s something that sounds so surreal to me.”

There’s a silence that lasts for three seconds, and when you look up at him, his gaze is soft.

“Alright,” he says, jerking his head towards the direction of the door with his hands still lax in his pockets, “let’s take you on a tour of this one, then.”

You blink up at him, heart beating a little faster. “O-...Okay.” And you hop up the stairs to meet him at the top. The fragrance of wild roses and lavender brush past your senses as the leaves sway with the breeze.

The moment you enter inside, you’re greeted by a faint trace of vanilla lingering in the air. The foyer is warm, inviting, with soft oak floors that creak ever so slightly with each step you two take forward into it, proving the life that it’s lived. To your left, there’s a spacious living room that glows with the golden light of the early evening sun that has started to gently make its descent from high up in the sky. Filtering through sheer curtains, touching your skin from afar, you glance down at your arm and the glow of heaven that’s been imprinted on it.

Gojo walks further into the living room, pulling the curtains back a bit and then opens one of the windows by pushing up on it. A small draft reaches you as you walk towards him. Off to the right in a corner is a fireplace, the mantle adorned with wilting candles and creased old books.

“Is it wood-burning?” you ask Gojo.

He nods his head. “Can easily convert it to gas if that’s something you’d like better.”

There’s a sense of joy in your chest at the way he continues to play along, pretending as if your opinion truly matters–as if, just for now, you were a serious contender to make this place your home.

“No,” you say, tracing a finger over the dark wood of the mantle, collecting withered dust. “I like it better like this.”

As he leads you into the kitchen, set your eyes on the marble countertops that meet soft sage cabinetry, the window behind the sink overlooking the rolling landscape of the backyard. You stand on your tiptoes to get a better view of what’s down the hill, and you see a small trickling creek that flows down the valley. Your gaze diverts towards the countertops and you see an elegant collection of mismatched china.

Spinning on your heel, you find Gojo leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches you inspect every inch. “When were these appliances last updated?” you ask, running your hand across the oven handle.

“About fourteen years ago.”

“Ah, they’re a little old.”

He smiles at you. “So the tolerance for vintage charm ends with kitchen appliances?”

“Charm is cute,” you say, a little cheekily as you move on without him towards the staircase, “but not when the house burns down because of an oven gas leak.”

He hums from behind you as he follows you, and you can hear the smile on his face through the sound alone. “You’re looking out for the right things.”

The staircase, with its dark wood railing and white balusters, curves gently upwards into the second floor. Just like your own home, the third and first steps creak beneath your feet. You always loved the sound, although you know most people attempt to fix such things in a house. For you, it felt like each step had a story, and some were very vocal about never being forgotten.

The upstairs hallway is lined with more windows, filling the space with the same golden glow that now dances across the soft, tapering wallpaper that has begun to peel around the edges slightly. Your feet wander on their own with a sense of grace that seems to have taken hold of you.

The first bedroom you stumble across is small, but still enchanting. The bay window has a small reading nook with cushions piled up on the surface, inviting the image of lazy afternoons spent lost in books as the world beyond the glass panes flutters in the wind. The queen-sized bed in the center of the room is minimally dressed and faces an oak dresser that was leaning slightly away from the wall in a crooked fashion.

The room across from the first bedroom appears to be a study. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves are bolted to the walls and a vintage writing desk sits by another window where the changing light of day turns the room into a living painting. Your mother crosses your mind. And how much she would’ve loved this window. You could picture her setting up her easel and canvas here, painting away with strokes that could threaten even the beauty of the view outside the window. You think about how much joy that would’ve brought to her.

In that same trance, you walk down the hall to the end with Gojo following behind you. You push through the set of double doors that lead into the master bedroom. It was spacious, yet intimate, with vaulted ceilings and a four-poster bed draped in airy linen curtains. Sitting across from it is another fireplace surrounded by two picturesque little chairs. One with a square backrest colored a dark burgundy, and the other with an oval backrest colored a pinkish opal. Between the two was a small table that had a stack of a few books.

The attached en-suite bathroom appears timeless, with a clawfoot tub resting beneath a wide, arched window that offers the view of the rolling hills in their entire glory. The marble vanity has vintage brass fixtures that reflect the soft glow of the chandelier that hangs from the ceiling, one that takes the shape of the roof of the house.

You hear tapping on the window to your right, and when you glance over there, you see a tree branch bothering the surface due to the wind.

Your eyes also catch the faint bordering corner of wood beyond the frame of the window.

With wide eyes, you turn to Gojo and point in that general direction. “Is that…?”

“The balcony,” he says, then nods, “it’s connected to this room.”

He leads you out onto the wooden platform, the floorboards warm under your feet from the early evening sun. It stretches out about ten feet and wraps around the entire back end of the house, with easily the most breathtaking vantage point you’ve seen thus far. An entire view of the creek that disappears into the valley, the image of dancing wildflowers on distant rolling hills, the sun that continues to glow in the distance, and a gentle breeze with the faintest hint of salt, as though from a distant ocean. It felt like its own quiet little world. A place where time slows, and you can just be as you are. It was difficult to put into words, but you had never felt more at peace in your entire life.

Gojo leans over the sturdy yet worn railing as he glances down at the grass near the foundation of the house. You come up beside him, loosely curling your hands into a grip around the rusted metal.

You see him turn his face to you in your periphery, but you continue to stay staring ahead.

“So…what do you think? Can you picture yourself living here?” he asks you as a soft brush of breeze passes by.

“Well–” you start, but then a sobering thought flashes through you, “wait, Satoru, what happened to your clients?”

“Oh, yeah,” he pulls his phone out of his pocket to glance at it, “they texted me about ten minutes ago that they weren’t going to make it.”

“You should’ve told me. We could’ve left.”

“Well, you seemed like you were in some sort of trance while you were looking around. I was scared to interrupt it.”

You breathe in deep and then let out a slow sigh, your shoulders dropping slightly. “Mhm. The house is beautiful. And, yes, I could picture myself living here.”

More than just that. It was like a dream house. The one that a person would see in fleeting memories right before they pass, as it holds all of their most beloved ones. That ethereal, it was.

He hums softly. You look over at him and find him blinking slowly. The wind brushes through his hair, ruffling it up gently, to where you could see the blueness in his eyes a little more clearly. That, too, was ethereal.

“Satoru,” you say.

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

He continues to stare at the horizon. “Sure.”

“Where did you live before you moved here?”

“New york city,” he easily tells you.

But the answer surprises you. “R-Really?”

“Yeah.”

“For how long?”

“Really long.”

“Mm. You don’t seem like it.”

“Like what? An asshole from the city?”

“Mhm. Just a regular asshole.”

He laughs. You feel the rumble of it from the way your shoulder was pressed up against his arm.

“Do you ever miss it?” you ask him. But the question was not one that you had thought to say. Rather, it felt as though it was placed on your tongue by someone else.

You feel his shoulders rise slightly with the deep breath he draws in as he leans over the railing a bit more. “I don’t know. It’s hard to say. I still own a place there in downtown Manhattan,” he says, “but I don’t really plan on moving back there ever. So I was thinking of selling it and getting something out here instead.”

“Oh?” you say, “like what? Where?”

“This,” he says, pointing to the wooden panels you two were standing on, “this house.”

You blink, caught between surprise and something deeper. “This house?” you echo, your voice quiet.

He nods, his fingers tapping lightly against the railing. “Yeah. Although, I still show it to people if they’re interested. It’s been on the market for over three years though.”

You let your gaze drift over the balcony, the way the light softens against the weathered wood, and suddenly, the house doesn’t feel the same. Like it carries more weight somehow. Like it feels more real, more alive. And maybe that’s what makes a house a home–the intent to belong in it.

"You see that greenery over there?" he asks, his arm stretching out as he highlights an area in the distance with his hand, "aaaaall the way down there?" Now pointing at the creak.

"Mm," you squint, "uh-huh!"

"Believe it or not, those are all avocado trees."

Your eyes widen and then you look at him. "No way."

He smiles. "Yeahhh. Three-point-four acres of 'em. And they're all a part of this lot."

Your smile matches his equally as nerdy one. "Wow I bet you loooove that.

"I do," he grins, and then gratuitously sights, "all I can eat guacamole 'til the day I die."

You snort.

"Yeah, anyways, that's why no one wants to buy this house," he says, "guess how much it costs to water them per month.”

"Mm, per month?" you look up to the golden sky, "a few thousand?"

"Try a hundred-and-fifty thousand."

"What–...I beg your finest fucking PARDON?!?!"

He laughs. "Yeah that's usually the reaction I get when I end a tour of this house on that note."

“That’s so insane…what’s the point of buying the house, then?”

"Avocados are hard to grow, they can be finicky, but all the land on this lot is extremely fertile," he says, "and if you can import the produce, it actually ends up being pretty lucrative." He points across to the dip in the hill behind the creak. "You could turn that place over there into some kind of ranch, too. Or a wedding venue, and rent it out. I don't know. The property has a lot of investment value. But the house itself is a bit dated. Would need some work."

"Like a fixer-upper on HGTV,” you offer for the conversation.

"Yeahhh. Something like that."

"Mm," you hum.

"Y’know, I was on HGTV once."

"What?! There's no way."

"Yup. House hunters."

"Bullshit. I would've known. I have seen every single episode since I graduated college."

"Oh, well, this was back when they still had Design Star on. I was like twenty-four or something. Fresh new realtor."

"Oh right. I was still in college then. I forgot that you're ancient."

He gives you an irritated side eye.

"So...will you be fixing up this house?" you ask him. His hobby of woodworking starts to make a little bit more sense.

"Maybe. I don't know if I'm too young to be thinking about retirement yet...but that's kind of what I was thinking of turning it into. A dream retirement home."

"You're definitely not young. Don't worry about that."

He gives you another irritated look.

"What happens to your other house, then?" you say. "The one next door."

“Hmm," he muses, "I'll probably stay there another year or so and then rent it out eventually."

"You don't want to settle down there? Raise your kids there?" you blurt out. You immediately wince a little at the forward question, but wasn't that something people thought about when thinking of a house? Do they not imagine filling it with their own hopes and dreams? Do they not picture their spouse sitting on the porch outside, swinging with the wind? Do they not picture their children's laughter down the hallway?

A shiver runs down your spine. You glance over at Gojo, who continues to stare forward towards the horizon, His brow furrowed ever so slightly as he's deep in thought staring out into the landscape as the golden sun begins to turn purple in the sky, casting a dimming glow on his face.

And you wonder. You briefly wonder what a home must mean to him, after having to witness his parents perish in the flames of the one that housed his childhood.

"It's a nice house," he finally responds to you, "but a part of me wants to live faaaaar away from everyone and everything someday." A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, like he can already tell how contradictory you find that sentiment to be. Mr Grew Up In New York City wants to live in a quaint little cape-cod-esque agriculture farmland property miles away from major civilization? what was it about the city that changed him so much? “Just be at peace, you know. Plant a million more avocado trees out here in the middle of nowhere, and not have to worry about their devilish spawns dropping all over my cute neighbor's herb garden.”

You flutter your eyelids, the comment catching you off guard, before your entire posture softens. "Satoru...it's ok. I'll move my herb garden."

"Oh, you thought I meant you? I was talking about seventy-four year old Barbara to my right."

You sulk your shoulders and roll your eyes, turning away from him to face forward towards the landscape again.

He laughs. "I'm just teasing."

You glance over at him again, and there's that same distant stare he casts over the greenery in the distance.

"I can't believe your dream in life is to become a farmer," you say.

"Ehhh. It's honest work." he exhales slowly. The sun is now sitting on the hilltop. "It's just a dream, anyways. Just a dream. I'm still allowed to have those, right?" It was asked with genuine curiosity.

"Why are you asking me for permission?"

His eyes hood ever so slightly, a dip in his expression you can't quite discern. but it's evident in the way his gaze off across the horizon dampens. "Hm. I don't know."

You shiver a little as the evening wind brushes past, and Gojo catches sight of the movement. you mentally curse yourself, because you know that you've just cut this moment short.

"It's cold," he says, "let's get inside."

You try to think of ways to stay here. Ways to lengthen this moment. Ask him for his jacket and make some teasing comment about how he's not a gentleman. Or lie and say that you're not cold at all, that you run warm when you know all your life you've always had cold hands and feet. Or just tell him that you don't want this moment to end. Tell him you want to see the sun through its sunset. Tell him how you never want to step foot off of this house ever again.

"Okay," you whisper.

And he leads you back inside, down the stairs, and as you stand out on the veranda, at the grassy hills towards his car, you implant this memory in your head, this feeling of standing on this home and dreaming as if it were yours. Before all it becomes is exactly that,

Only a dream.

[end of ch.7, ‘if u wanna get groceries’]

songs of the chapter: groceries by mallrat margaret by lana del rey

a/n. thanks so much for reading! this was a fun chapter to write, especially the house sequence. i think it’s mentioned in the chapter somewhere, but yeah…i just think there’s something so romantic and melancholic about a home :’’) i guess that’s a recurring theme in ihm, with reader’s childhood home holding the memories that her mother has lost of her, and then ihm gojo losing his parents to a destructive house fire, and also him being a realtor, and also reader planning to sell her house, and then the dream house in this chapter. it’s been fun breathing a bit of life into these different settings themselves. ah i also decided i want to include little “song(s) of the chapter” to the end of these! just as something kinda fun to do. i’d say these are songs that inspired me to write certain scenes within the chapter, or songs that i listened to a lot while writing the chapter, or songs i could picture playing during the ending credits if this were a tv show xd. but yeahhh!! also just a way to share music bc i love music lol. big thank you to my beta readers mirl, leni, and ayelin for helping me out w parts of this chapter n giving me motivation to write it <33 i appreciate you guys sososo much!! i really attribute a lot of my writing motivation towards them, as i’ve been really busy but been able to write these lengthy chapters bc of their support. i did kinda rush parts of this chapter just because i wanted to get it out on the weekend, so i apologize if there are errors or mistakes of if anything’s a little confusing or sudden. tbh i did want to spend a tiny bit more time on it but, that’s ok. fuck it we ball also! i just wanted to say a quick thank you to all of my readers and those that have stuck around for so long with me or maybe newer readers who have interacted or become invested w my works recently… i know that i am so slow w updates and sometimes inconsistent w it as well, life just gets so crazy for me and it’s a struggle to find proper time to sit down and write, and i wish soooo badly to put out chapters faster, but yea easier said than done haha. but all of my readers who continue to engage with lil ol’ me even despite all of that really means a lot to me, more than i can say :”) i still face self doubts so often w my writing, i’m halfway convinced i’ll never be satisfied w my craft, but the little interactions i have w everyone really make my day and push me forward to write even when it’s hard and i realized i haven’t really said a proper thank u to u guys for that as of late. plus i know jjk manga has ended and also i took a hiatus n also tumblr has lowkey been fuckin me over on the algorithm too lol etc etc i definitely have noticed i’ve lost some readers n engagement along the way, which i understand is natural n just a part of being a long fic author however daunting that may be, but i just really wanted to say a thank you to those who continue to be here irrespective of all of that. i appreciate everyone who sees value in my works enough to read them, follow up w them, interact w them, share them, like them etc. especially w ihm bc sometimes i feel so bad for the slow burn and the yap haha i’m sure some of you may be privy to the fact by now that this story will be very long and also so much more than just the romance. but…i find confidence from you all to follow my vision and i’m really grateful for that. very likely that the next chapter is in ihm gojo’s pov :0 very exciting and makes me a lil nervous. for some reason i find his pov somewhat intimidating to write for loool. but hopefully i’ll pull it off.

much love!! there will be a delay in getting this chapter up on ao3 and also adding it to the masterlist etc bc i'll be away from keyboard when this posts from my queue, but everything should be updated by the time i'm back home tonight :) see you all in the next one <3 -ellie

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checkeredflagggs · 2 days ago

Text

Money Bags

pairing: sugar relationship!charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: everyone is pretty sure charles has a sugar baby girlfriend — why else would she be posting so many photos of gifts?

a/n: the start of my week of romance! This was requested by a lovely anon and I hope you like it!

a/n2: I don’t know any actual shops or restaurants in Monaco so generic names it is! Please pretend it’s those exclusive places for the rich and famous. I also don’t know what type of Ferrari it is 🤷🏻‍♀️

Masterlist | Taglist

Bluesky

user1: …so it’s definitely charles and his girlfriend right?

↳user2: honestly they might as well as posted their faces

↳user1: Right? Like it’s so obvious

user3: you know you can just write their names? It’s definitely leclerc and his new girl

↳user4: it’s hilarious to me that they think it’s a secret?

↳user3: seriously! It’s been nonstop photos of gifts and trips and fancy dinners since they got together

user5: you mean charles and his gold digger?

↳user6: usually I wouldn’t promote that kind of language but in this case…

↳user7: I agree — she’s gonna drain him dry and move on to someone else to do the same

user8: don’t be coy deuxmoi — just say its the gold digger and charles leclerc…

↳user9: 😂😂

cl_gossip

liked by user, user, user and 982,349 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

cl_gossip: shocking absolutely no one — this Valentine’s Day is going to be a bank-braker. This massive bouquet was seen heading into Leclerc’s apartment building

view all comments

user10: 😂😂😂 god just keep roasting her

user11: honestly how long does she think it’ll last when she blows his money so fast??

user12: … 😱 …🙄🙄🙄

user13: what a slut honestly.

user14: my money is she moves on to max next…

↳user15: oh same

↳user16: ohh that would be an ideal threesome…

↳user15: seriously?

↳user16: am I wrong?

↳user14: …no I guess not

user17: tagging them though…

↳user18: right? I could never…

↳user17: I hesitate to even comment sometimes and they’re just out here tagging them on a post that’s dragging his girl…

↳cl_gossip: sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do

cl_gossip

liked by user, user, user and 992,184 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

cl_gossip: continuing with the apparent theme of the day — Charles and y/n were seen Bijouterie Jewelry Store, which is one of the most exclusive jewelry stores in the continent

view all comments

user20: wow…a new way to spend Charles’ money

↳user21: Jesus leave them alone

↳user20: we’re just calling it like we see it

↳user21: you’re just being a bitch

user22: oh to have a boyfriend like Charles to spoil you…

↳user23: right? Ignoring everything above — she’s got the jackpot. He’s so attractive, kind, seemingly caring, and rich?

↳user22: I’m so jealous

user24: man I’ve always wanted to go to Bijouterie Jewelry Store…

↳user25: same! I’ve seen pictures but I just know the aura of the place is unmatched

user26: leave the drivers and their personal lives alone challenge FAILED

↳user27: oh thank god I’m not the only one to think that

↳user26: they’re famous yes but we don’t need to know everything about their personal lives — and they have the right to privacy!

cl_gossip has posted a story, yourusername has posted 2 stories

[I don’t even know where to begin with this one…that is a mega yacht —not one of Charles’…][ today is only the best ♥️ | what a lovely lunch with charles_leclerc ♥️♥️♥️]

user28 replied GOLDDIGGER!

user29 replied god leave them alone

user30 replied what a bitchy move

user31 replied Charles please RUN

charles_leclerc replied Mon soleil, aujourd'hui a déjà été le plus beau jour de ma vie...My sunshine, today has already been the best day of my life...

↳yourusername Attendez, car ce n'est pas encore fini! Just you wait then because it's not over yet!

↳charles_leclerc mon soleil…my sunshine

↳yourusername 🥰🥰🥰

francisca.cgomes replied you guys are setting the bar absurdly high…

↳yourusername of course 🥰

↳yourusername but just say the word and we can run away baby

↳francisca.cgomes 🤯🤯🤯

pierregasly replied stop trying to steal my girlfriend

↳yourusername never

↳pierregasly 🙄😑

user32 replied jealousy activated oh my god…

user33 replied i want your life…

user34 replied please post some more photos of Charles queen!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, pierregasly, and 2,923,91: others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: a new car and still a passenger princess 👑

view all comments

charles_leclerc: Je ne le ferais pas autrement, mon soleil. I wouldn’t have it any other way, my sunshine

↳yourusername: 😍😍😍

user36: RUN CHARLES

this comment has been deleted

user37: a whore and a gold digger…

this comment has been deleted

lilymhe: the prettiest passenger princess ever

↳yourusername: no that’s you!

↳alex_albon: why must you always flirt with our girlfriends?

↳pierregasly: i know

↳francisca.cgomes: 😘

↳yourusername: stop having such babes for girlfriends then? liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomes

↳alex_albon: 🙄🙄

user38: he bought her a BRAND NEW FERRARI???

↳user39: I’ve never been so jealous of a bitch in my life

user40: ok but is anyone gonna say anything about the FUCKING HUGE ASS pile of gifts?

↳user41: I KNOW! Like damn…

↳yourusername: spoiling is the name of the game girlies…

↳user40: are you guys looking for a third? A maid? A dog? liked by yourusername

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 3,128,183 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: a last minute trip with my baby…

view all comments

charles_leclerc: ♥️♥️♥️

↳yourusername: my love 🥰

user42: leo!

↳user43: always a good day with a leo leclerc picture liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc

oscarpiastri: have a good trip dad!

↳charles_leclerc: thank you son!

↳yourusername: …yeah no. Thanks though osc! liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri

maxverstappen1: Air Max is still better

↳yourusername: stop being jealous!

↳maxverstappen1: 😑

↳charles_leclerc: mon soleil…

user49: god imagine being so entitled that you demand an expensive trip…

↳yourusername: lol

↳charles_leclerc: 😂

↳user50: ok but what does this mean…

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, pierregasly, and 2,723,183 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: Mon soleil, tu as mon cœur et mon âme depuis le jour où je t'ai vu pour la première fois. Je t'aime infiniment, avec ferveur, vraiment. Votre beauté, votre gentillesse, votre générosité sont exceptionnelles. Merci pour cette journée si merveilleuse aujourd'hui. Je n'aurais jamais cru qu'être gâté était si agréable.

My sunshine, you have my heart and soul and have since the day i first saw you. I love you endlessly, fervently, truly. Your beauty, your kindness, your generosity is outstanding. Thank you for such a wonderful day today. I never knew that being spoiled felt so good.

(Also stay mad and stay jealous but mon soleil is not the sugar baby in this relationship ☺️)

comments have been restricted on this post

yourusername: Charles my love…

yourusername: you cannot imagine how happy you make me everyday

yourusername: meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me

↳charles_leclerc: Mon soleil…🥹🥰♥️

yourusername: oh and to those judging us? Definitely stay mad and jealous

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @voidvannie @sturmatt @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478

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cupidbedsy · 3 days ago

Text

𝜗𝜚 drunken nights ; into you

➪ summary: after a long week, y/n just wants to unwind and luke looks after her when things get a little out of hand

➪ warnings: reader is an emotional and very clingy drunk

➪ word count: 2.1k

➪ cupid's notes: i am so so excited for everything that comes out of this au! if you want, please keep sending in thoughts and asks and yeah. i hope you guys enjoy

It had been way too long of a week for her, tests upon tests, assignment after assignment, and worst of all she had barely seen Luke all week. At first, the idea of getting up and getting ready for a party she knew she would only halfway enjoy seemed exhausting but then the thought of being able to unwind and see Luke made its way into her mind and she wasted no time in starting to do her makeup.

Dressed in one of her favorite short black skirts, a blue corset top, with her leather jacket thrown on and her knee-high black boots adorning her feet, she let her friends drag her out of their dorm and down the stairs, heading for the car.

She was silent almost the whole way there, the lingering stress and anxiety still flowing through her head. If it wasn’t for the idea of seeing Luke tonight, she would’ve let the uneasiness consume her entirely.

She was so in her head that she didn’t even realize that they parked outside of the Frat house that was hosting the party that night. She could hear the music from outside, watching as the lights flickered within the house and people hung out on the lawn.

She gripped her best friend’s hand tightly, walking through the crowded house towards the kitchen where all the drinks were. She watched as her friend poured her her first drink of the night, taking it gratefully and sipping on it.

Luke was in the middle of a game of beer pong, laughing with a few of his frat boys, running a hand through his hair when he felt something within him shift. It was the same feeling he got whenever y/n showed up, whenever he would lay eyes on her, whenever she brushed her fingers against his arm.

His eyes worked overtime trying to find her, looking from the other side of the living room to the front door. He frowned when he didn’t see her, immediately going to scan the house again, but that’s when he saw her, tipping her head back as she finished her drink and reaching out to grab another one from her friend.

He mumbled an ‘excuse me’ before making his way over to her, pushing through people to do so. They had been texting any chance they got meaning he knew how stressed she had been the entirety of the week and now seeing her tip back the drink as fast as she did, he knew that she would be downing drinks like there was no tomorrow.

He threw an arm around her as soon as he approached, taking the drink from her hand, “Hey.”

She frowned when the cup left her grasp, looking up at him with her signature doe eyes, whining, “Lukey.”

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“You took my drink.”

He laughed at her pout, bringing her closer to his side so he could press a kiss to her temple, “I did. How many have you had already?”

“I just got here, that’s my second one.”

He gave her a skeptical look but relented nonetheless, handing her the drink back. He watched the people around them before turning his attention back to her, “How’re you doing?”

“Okay.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at the short answer, expecting at least something other than okay. He maneuvered her so she was standing in front of him, making her stare up at him. His eyes trailed over her face, making note of every single freckle, eyelash, curve, and contour of her face, “What’s wrong?”

“A little stressed still. Have a bunch of things to do this weekend still.”

“Which means you want to drink to your heart’s content don’t you?”

Y/n gave him a pleading look, “Just for tonight? Please, Lukey.”

She watched as he mulled over the thought in his mind, studying his damp curls and the bead of sweat falling down the side of his face. She took in his appearance while she waited, his unbuttoned dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and his khaki shorts that sat just above his knees.

“Fine.”

She was snapped out of her trance at his single word, giving him a grateful smile as she raised on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek before downing her drink. He sighed in return, knowing that this was going to be a long night.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

And he was right, she drank drink after drink, giggling like a little schoolgirl with each one she had. He had forgotten about how she was when she was drunk, the cute little laugh she couldn’t stop releasing, her contagious smile, and her clingy nature.

Y/n reached for another drink but Luke’s hand encompassed hers and took it into his own, bringing it to his chest as she glared at him. He grinned, dumping the cup’s contents down the sink and wrapping his arms around her waist, bringing her to his chest, “I think it’s time we get you home, pretty girl.”

“But I’m having fun.” Her whine was barely loud enough for him, he had to bend down just so he could hear her words.

“And you’re not going to have any fun tomorrow if you keep having fun tonight. C’mon, let’s go.”

She only giggles again, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, “You’re pretty, Lukey.”

A smirk takes over his features, looking down at her curiously, “Is that so, princess?”

“Mhm. The prettiest,” she states matter-of-factly, tugging at one of his curls again.

“You’re so drunk, baby.” He murmurs, kissing her forehead.

“I’m telling the truth!”

“And how can I be sure you’re not bluffing? You gonna prove it to me?”

“I will.”

“And how will you manage to do that?” He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, his face still set in his usually cocky smugness.

“You’ll find out. Just you wait, Luke Hughes.”

“Oh, I will be.”

A silence falls between them, or about as silent as you can get with music still blaring through multiple speakers and people yelling over said music. And after a few minutes, y/n could feel the tiredness creeping up on her causing her to shuffle closer to her best friend, laying her head on his chest, “Lukey?”

He wrapped her arms around her shoulders, resting his chin on her head, “Yeah, y/n/n?”

“Can we go now?”

He chuckled but nodded, “‘Course we can, c’mon.” His hand falls to her lower back, guiding her out of the house and down the street to where his truck was parked, helping her into the passenger seat.

He walked around to the other side, climbing into the truck himself, stealing a glance over at her, and confusion flashing across his face when he saw the pout on her lips, “What’s wrong, pretty girl? Too much to drink?”

“Wanna sit by you.”

He raised an eyebrow, drawing his hand back from the keys that were in the ignition, “You want to sit by me?”

She just nodded, a determined feeling washing over her. He threw his head back, running a hand through his hair as he tried to think of a way to break it to her that she wouldn’t be able to sit in his lap. It had been so long since she had been this drunk that he had forgotten how clingy she got, and how sad she got when she didn’t get her way.

“Y/n/n you can’t sit in my lap.” He stated softly, looking over at her.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m driving, it’ll not only put you in danger but me as well. Just gotta wait a few minutes, sweet girl, and then you can cuddle me and sit in my lap as much as your heart desires.”

She whined again, “That’ll take too long.”

A chuckle escaped him, letting his hand move to settle on her thigh, “It won’t be more than 10 minutes, hell it probably won’t even be five.”

Y/n knew he was right, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to be right. She stared back at him, trying to assert some level of authority over him but the challenging look he was giving her was enough to make her sink back into the seat, “Fine.”

“Good girl.” He squeezed her thigh, leaning over to kiss her temple before starting his truck and pulling away from the curb.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Luke had to drag her upstairs, y/n letting him carry most of her body weight as she rested against him. The two came to a stop at his room, y/n waiting as he opened the door, leading her to sit down on his bed. She watched him carefully as he picked a few things off the ground, mostly dirty clothes, and placed them where they should be.

He could feel her gaze on him but he paid no mind to it, continuing to tidy up as best as he could. When he finished, he turned back to her, smiling softly as her eyes opened and closed. He walked over to her, placing his index finger beneath her chin and tilting her head up so she was looking at him through hazy eyes, “Tired, princess?”

“Mhm.”

“Let’s get you changed then, yeah?”

She just nodded in response, letting him move to grab one of his T-shirts from his drawer and an extra pair of sleep shorts she kept at his. He handed them to her but she just gave him a look of helplessness. He chuckled, “You want me to help?”

“Please.”

“Alright, baby.” He took the clothes from her again, placing them beside her on the bed, slipping her jacket off, and throwing it on the chair in the corner.

His fingers skimmed her stomach as he went to take her shirt off, cooing softly, “Arms up.”

She did as she was told, lifting her arms so he could easily slide the shirt off of her, doing the same thing he did with her jacket. He tugged her skirt down before putting her shorts on and letting the t-shirt fall over her frame.

“Better?”

“Mhm.” She moved to curl up on his bed, bringing the comforter around her, letting the heat surround her.

Luke changed into a random pair of sweatpants, throwing his shirt in the laundry basket, and kissing her forehead, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Where you going?”

“Gonna get you some water and some meds so you’re head doesn’t hurt in the morning.”

“Quick?”

“Yeah, I’ll be quick.”

She nodded, snuggling into the bed as he left the room, practically running down the steps to the kitchen.

And just like he promised, he was back within three minutes, two glasses of water and a few pills that he rested on his nightstand. He coaxed her into sitting up, letting her sit between his legs so her back was flush with his chest.

“Drink.” He pressed the glass to her lips, urging her to take soft sips. She sighed as the cool liquid went down her throat, relaxing even further into him.

Once she finished the glass, he let her lay back down, him following in her steps, pulling her against him, “Get some sleep.”

Some time in between the time he left and when he got back, a small burst of energy made its way into her, causing her to turn over to face him, a small smile on her face, “No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Wanna stay with you.”

“You were going to sleep with me here anyway, baby.”

“I want to stay awake and talk to you.” A frown graced her lips, pouting once again.

Butterflies erupted in his stomach, looking at her in awe, “That’s sweet of you princess, but you need your rest.”

She nodded, the energy she got quickly fading, but one question lingered in her mind, “Lu?”

“What’s up?”

“I’m your best friend right?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “‘Course you are. Why’re you asking?”

“Just wondering.”

“Now tell me the real reason.”

“I dunno, just- would you go out with someone else?”

He softened, “I wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause you’re mine, y/n/n.”

“Really?” Her eyes lit up slightly, her mind and body still letting the alcohol affect them.

“Yep, all mine, baby.”

She didn’t say anything more, just snuggled into him once again, drifting off to sleep almost instantly. Luke knew she wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning, the only thing she would have as a reminder would be the pounding headache once she woke up.

꒰ INTO YOU TAGLIST ꒱

@fantillisgirl @hughesmedicine @jjgsunflower @kaydesssssssss

INTO YOU MASTERLIST ; AU'S

TAGLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION

#˚ ༘♡〚 cupids writing 〛ₓ｡#𝜗𝜚 into you au !#𝜗𝜚 luke and y/n !#luke hughes #lh43 #luke hughes x reader

282 notes · View notes

vbecker10 · 3 days ago

Text

Stop Saying it Like That

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Just a little blurb based off the meme below (from Loki:intotheowenverse), hope you like it 💚

"Loki, you need to stop saying it like that," you laugh, shaking your head as he opens the door to the small bakery for you.

He follows you out onto the street carrying a small box full of treats, "Saying what?"

You stop, clearing your throat so you can do your best impression of your boyfriend's accent, "Enjoy the next twenty-four hours."

The God of Mischief chuckles at your poor attempt, "Was that supposed to sound like me?"

"I sounded exactly like you," you answer with a wide smile despite knowing it wasn't even close.

"Look, that's not my point," laughing as you try to get the conversation back on track. "Its really creepy when you say it like that," you inform him.

He wraps his free arm around your waist and starts walking again, leading you back towards the Tower. "It was truly awful darling," Loki shakes his head with a smile.

"Creepy?" he raises an eyebrow as he looks down at you.

"Don't act like you have no idea what I'm talking about," you roll your eyes. "It literally sounds like a threat, like they only have twenty-four hours left to live or something."

He chuckles, "Trust me darling, when I threaten people they know." You sigh, trying to look annoyed but he bends to kiss your cheek and your smile slips free. "What would you prefer I say?" he asks genuinely curious.

"Just say 'have a good day'," you tell him.

"Y/N, that's the same thing," Loki states and you shake your head. Before you can argue back he presses his lips to yours to silence you. "Fine, I will try that next time," he agrees and you smile.

Loki walks with you in comfortable silence for two more blocks, his arm still around your waist, slowing his pace when he notices your attention is caught by the bouquets outside a flower shop. "See something you like?" he asks as you both stop in front of the colorful display of mixed flowers.

You smile, pointing to a bundle of your favorite flowers. Loki picks them up and you follow him into the shop where he pays the employee.

She hands Loki his change, he looks down at you briefly then back at the woman behind the counter. "Have a good day, mortal," he tells her with a wide smirk that causes the florist to let out a nervous laugh before thanking him quietly.

You walk back outside, your flowers in one hand and swat Loki's chest lightly in a joking manner. He chuckles, "What did I do wrong now? I told her to have a good day like you insisted."

"Mortal?" you tilt your head and look up at him.

"Would 'human' have been better?" he smiles.

You ignore his question, knowing he is only asking to see your reaction. "And the evil smirk, really?"

"Evil?" Loki let's go of your waist, putting his hand over his heart dramatically. "You wound me Y/N."

You laugh, reaching up to kiss his cheek when he tries to act as if he's offended. "You're cute when you're being annoying on purpose," you tell him and he chuckles, holding on to you again.

"I'm glad someone thinks so," he smiles.

"But stop talking to people when we go out," you add with a laugh.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @mischief2sarawr @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @ash-muses @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-asgard @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv @glitterylokislut @biodegradable-glitter-fest @wolfsmom1 @simone818283 @hopefuldreamers-world @blackhawkfanatic @sabspoetic @anukulee @lovinglokilaufeyson @beaniemoon @hotburreaux

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aaagustd · 2 days ago

Text

friends & lovers | jww (m)

title: friends & lovers pairing: jeon wonwoo x female reader genre/rating: fluff, smut, best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers; 18+ summary: Sometimes the love you’re searching for has been right beside you all along. Patience is the key…the right moment will present itself eventually. wc: 2.2k warnings: swearing, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), restraints (wrist pinning), grinding/dry humping, clit stimulation, slight orgasm control, cumshots, crying, begging, soft sex, pet names, nipple play, cum play, aftercare release date: february 9th, 2025; 9:23pm est author’s note: Hello!! This was a bday gift I wrote for @beomcoups a while back. Huge shoutout to @hobeemin for beta reading it for me at the time. I’m currently moving all of my old content here, so if you’ve read this before don’t be alarmed lol. I’m the original author.

“People are staring at us.”

You both giggle as the carousel makes its final round, shyly peeking over your shoulders at the crowd of people watching you. Somehow, Wonwoo managed to get the ride operator to start it up with just you two on.

Both of you hopped from seat to seat like you used to do when you were kids, and your parents had to threaten to take you home if you didn’t remain seated. Although you’re adults now, you’re still fond of the old habit.

“So, let them,” you shrug. “Maybe they’ve got eyes for the cutie on the horse.”

“Can you stop?”

Wonwoo throws his head back when he laughs and clutches his stomach, giving you a glimpse of the smile you haven’t seen in months.

Ever since he and his girlfriend broke things off, he’s been cooped up in his apartment, feeling down and not wanting to be bothered. You’re glad he accepted your offer to go to the fair and take his mind off things. He says he’s fine and looks better than he did five months ago, but you know that something’s still bothering him, and you hope that tonight you can dig deep enough to find it.

“Why would I? This is fun.”

You both step off as the ride stops, feeling high with adrenaline. Suddenly, you feel his fingertips at your sides, and he playfully tickles you, making you shriek and squirm.

“Wonwoo!”

On-lookers coo and clutch their chest, mainly older couples and romantics. Neither of you even notices the admiration they have in their eyes until someone grabs your attention.

“You two are such a beautiful couple. May my husband and I have a picture with you? You just remind us of our younger selves,” a lady in her golden years asks with a genuine smile.

Immediately, you begin to break the news to her, but Wonwoo interferes.

“Oh, ma’am, we’re not—”

“Sure! I’ll take it. I have long arms,” he insists, taking her phone when she hands it to him. Wonwoo throws his arm over your shoulder and holds it high enough to capture all four of you. He takes the picture but doesn’t stop there. “Now one for us.”

After returning the woman’s phone to her and her husband, he pulls his device from his pocket and takes another, but this time he brings you in a bit closer. He wraps his arm around you a little tighter and whispers in your ear as he snaps the picture.

“For new memories,” he says to you.

You release a shaky breath when you disperse, and you can’t do anything but smile and wave as the couple bids their farewells.

You never could explain the butterflies in your stomach whenever Wonwoo would be so close to you in that way. It always seems so intimate, but you wouldn’t dare say it out loud. You know it’s only those buried feelings that are causing you to react this way and nothing you should feed into.

When you’re finally alone, you turn to him and ask, “So, what now? Are you ready to go?”

“A little bit,” he answers.

“Well, don’t let me hold you up. I’m probably just gonna go grab something to eat until my roommate’s done fucking her boyfriend. I had fun, so thanks for coming—”

You pause when Wonwoo shakes his head.

“I said I was ready to leave here,” he informs. “Not leave you.”

“Oh, okay. So umm, where do you wanna go?”

“Aren’t you hungry?” he quizzes. “We can go grab something.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he continues.

“Or…we can meet at my place, and we can order something. You can stay over if you want.”

“Really?”

“Yup. I don’t mind,” he assures.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you—”

Your mouth shuts when he gives you a look, but your smile grows when he turns away and starts walking toward the parking lot.

Both of you get in your vehicles and drive towards his apartment, the tingling sensation still coursing through your veins. You try your best to calm yourself before you get there, but as you get out of your car, your legs are wobbly and shaky, indicating that you are far from okay.

Wonwoo turns to you as his door opens.

“Wanna shower?”

Gratefully, you sigh. “Yes, please.”

After a shower, slices of pizza, and a couple of movies, you and Wonwoo lay awkwardly in his bed. Both of you scroll through your phones, trying to ignore the thick tension in the air. There’s something on his tongue; you can hear it. You want to ask him, but you don’t know how.

Eventually, you start to believe it’s just your nerves. You haven’t hung out like this since before his two-year-long relationship, so you figure you just need some re-adjusting. You wiggle your way towards him so you can familiarize yourself with the feeling of being so close to him.

It isn’t long before his fingers start playing in your hair, making your eyes slightly heavy. You roll over on your back so you can look at him and try to stop yourself from falling asleep so quickly.

His smile greets you and leaves you slightly curious.

“What?” you giggle.

“Nothing, I was just thinking.”

“About?”

He sighs. “I missed you. That’s all.”

When his eyes begin to wander, you follow them once they’ve set on a particular sight. It just happens to be your thighs, and you start tugging down your borrowed shirt upon the discovery.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, more to himself than anything.

You clear your throat. “Wonwoo, I’m glad you’re feeling like yourself again, but I don’t think I can be your rebound. I’m not—”

“What? No, love. It’s definitely not like that. It’s just…Fuck it.” He shifts in his spot so he can speak to you face to face, leaving you no option but to look at him, even though you’ve been avoiding eye contact since you got here. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“It’s about the breakup…why it happened,” he explains.

You blink a few times. You never knew the reason behind the split or how it happened; it wasn’t your place to ask. Now that he’s finally telling you, there’s an uneasy feeling growing inside of you.

“We broke up because we liked other people. She wasn’t over her ex, and I…”

“And you?...”

He takes a deep breath as if he’s about to lay it all on the table.

“I had to be honest with myself and admit that I’m really in love with my best friend,” he confesses.

Your eyes widen, lips ready to run a mile a minute, but he speaks before you do.

“I thought about this before, but the timing was just never right. And now…” he sighs. “I don’t know. I just feel like we’re on the same page, but then again, you’re looking at me like I’m crazy.”

“Wonwoo, I—”

“I know. You don’t feel the same.”

The disappointment in his voice gives you all the courage you need to come clean, and you do so before you can change your mind.

“I do feel the same,” you admit. “I’ve loved you since we were teenagers. I just never knew how to tell you.”

He seems a little shocked after hearing this.

“Really?” Wonwoo asks, his thumb tracing circles on your hand.

“Yeah.”

Your best friend just stares at you, not saying anything. You hold his gaze and never break eye contact. Moments go by like this, until eventually, his lips begin to hover over yours. They become more inviting the longer you lay there waiting for something to happen.

However, Wonwoo toughens up and makes the first move on your behalf. His mouth presses against yours delicately, and he lowers his body so that you can run your hands through his hair.

You envelop each other and get lost within the first shared kiss between two best friends who have been denying their love for one another for over a decade. The pit of your stomach goes into a frenzy as the butterflies rise and flutter wildly.

Dizziness clouds your mind as you’re swept away by the feeling. You’re light as a feather, so high that coming down seems impossible.

It doesn’t help that Wonwoo’s lips have become greedier, and his desire is growing by the second. Your legs part to allow him in the space, and he takes the opportunity instantly. Your wrists get pinned above your head while he slowly begins to grind his crotch against yours.

A moan slips out, and he takes the chance to invade your mouth with his thick muscle. Your tongues begin exploring each other’s crevice, and you become drunk off his taste. You can’t get enough of him but the need for oxygen exceeds your lust-driven fantasies.

“I want you,” you say without much thought. Your breathing is labored and rough, but you still try to speak. “I need you.”

“Fuck, same. But…”

“But what?”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “No condoms.”

His voice oozes with need, and his bulge is straining against his shorts. He’s as desperate as you are, but he’s trying to hold back.

“We’re good on this end. It’s okay,” you assure him. “Are you?...”

He nods. “Yes, of course. I haven’t since…”

“Well, can we?” you try again. “Please?”

“Okay, baby.”

Wonwoo lets go of your wrists and pulls down his shorts, letting his dick spring out freely. A small gasp escapes you when his length slaps your thigh. You lift your head to see it and instantly become mesmerized by its girth. You crave it and want it to fill every inch of you just like you’ve always fantasized about in your room alone.

“Like what you see?” He smirks when you nod and starts to run the tip up and down your slit, coating it with your arousal and secretly stimulating your throbbing clit. “Let’s see if you can take it.”

When he slowly enters you, your mind goes completely blank. You arch into him as he bottoms out, and he holds you and places kisses up your neck.

“Wonwoo,” you call, and he smiles against your skin.

“Ready for me?”

“Yes, please. I want to feel you.”

Wonwoo’s movements start strong, and he makes sure to hold you in place while he thrusts into you, preventing you from flying off the bed. You cry his name over and over with each powerful snap of his hips.

He lifts your shirt and exposes your breasts to his greedy mouth, taking his time with each stiffened peak and making your eyes roll back from the multiple sources of pleasure you’re receiving.

The coil inside you tightens until it can no longer stand the pressure, and you blurt out a warning to inform Wonwoo of your orgasm.

“Wonwoo, I’m so close!”

“Me too, baby,” he moans in your ear. You run your nails down his sweaty back to ground yourself because it feels like your soul will leave your body any minute. Wonwoo goes deeper and deeper until you can no longer stand the build-up growing inside of you. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

And on his command, your body gives in, and the pleasure takes over you. Tears roll down your cheeks, but Wonwoo kisses you before the salty droplets can reach your trembling lips. Your entire body is set aflame by the heat coursing through you. The intense feeling leaves you a panting mess beneath Wonwoo, and you just lay there as he fucks you through the rest of your orgasm until he finally reaches his release.

“Fuck, where can I?”

“Anywhere you want,” you answer. “I don’t mind.”

He can only nod as he pulls out and paints your stomach with his warm cum. Wonwoo uses the tip to smear his arousal and spell his name on your skin, making you giggle and slap his arm.

“You’re nasty,” you tell him.

“Anywhere you want… I don’t mind,” he mocks but still leans down to kiss you.

You pout when he pulls away and disappears into his bathroom for about a minute. When he returns, you’re grateful to see him with a warm washcloth and a new shirt for you. He cleans you up and helps you change before he turns out the lights and joins you in bed. Neither of you say anything at first, but eventually, he can’t hold his tongue anymore.

“I really am in love with you. I would have never done this had you not asked. You’re more than a rebound—”

“I know that, Wonwoo. We’re good, okay?”

You turn on your side so you can hug him, and he nestles in your embrace.

“So, are we keeping this a secret or…?”

You release a breath before you answer, absentmindedly playing in his brown locks. You think about your answer for a moment, and then you reply.

“As much as I want to keep you all to myself… I’ve waited all my life to call you my boyfriend.”

“So what does that mean?” he asks shyly.

“It means…” You tilt his head so he can look at you. “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them the truth.”

Wonwoo smirks at you and returns to his position buried in your chest. He whispers as he drifts into his slumber.

“That’s my girl.”

And you couldn’t agree more.

#wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfics #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fanfics #seventeen fluff #jeon wonwoo smut #aaagustd.fics

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wonjns · 2 days ago

Text

discourse — j.ww

⌗ pairing. . . jeon wonwoo x male reader

⌗ genre. . . smut

⌗ summary. . . when you and wonwoo argue, you have sex. it just works. but everybody knows thats not the best method for a couple to find resolve. you want to try doing things the healthy way for once. its just so hard.

⌗ includes. . . bttm!reader, mentions of angry sex, marking, slight choking, dry humping, rimming/oral, size kink, bigdick!wonu, unprotected sex (be safe irl!!), these two wanna do the right thing but are just so horny

⌗ wc. 5.7k (...)

°A/N. . . hiya you guys!! this one acc wasn't requested but based off a dream i had lol. this is my first seventeen fic in a while (which is funny bc my first ever fic was about wonwoo) so i hope you guys like it :'-)

being wonwoo’s boyfriend meant passion and dedication were the new central traits of your life.

if there was one thing jeong wonwoo did, it was love deeply. he also held himself to high standards and had extensive expectations - as any self respecting individual would. however, holding you to those same standards as his lover did have a tendency to be overbearing from time to time. long story short, it inevitably lead to arguments becoming less than foreign within your relationship.

he was constantly trying to be his best for you, and expected 200% from you in return. it wasn't unreasonable whatsoever, but it became pretty clear that each of your views on just how putting forth that much effort looked were different, leading to inevitable frustration bubbling inside both of you.

and of course, in some semi-toxic way, that very frustration lead to fucking.

the last thing wonwoo could ever bring himself to do was hurt you, neither physically or verbally, despite how upset he would get. same could be said for you - so it was only natural when the flames of anger that ignited in you were transformed into embers of pure, raw sex in heated attempts to release the tension.

it quickly became your go to method.

countless times has wonwoo come home in the middle of week old arguments, and you don’t even speak as much as a word to one another before his lips are on yours. not much has to be said before those ridiculously soft lips of his are passionately sucking the life- and any fight you had left- out of you. both of your frustrations were palpable in the way you’d bite his lips, the way his enormous hands would bruise your hips— the way he'd tossed you around like you deserved the dull pain that came with being slammed against the wall or folded over a solid surface.

at some point, you had come to terms that this was not the proper way to settle your disagreements; realizing you were both just bottling up the negativity that would surely explode one day. but shit, it was hard to change your ways when your boyfriend was so fucking hot and dealt with you in a way that left you so physically satisfied.

you’d be lying if you said the thought of wonwoo’s indignant demeanor didn’t make your cheeks warm, his tongue always putting in extra effort to turn your mind into mush. you know he'd never harm you, but you actually liked when he made it hurt a little during sex - as if you were being punished.

something you would never admit is that there were a few times you had pissed him off on purpose, just so he would strip you down and have his way with you right then and there. there was one time where his unnaturally talented mouth toyed with you damn near all day by denying your climax, despite pushing you to the edge several times. cloud 9 was hardly an accurate description of how you felt when wonwoo finally let you release in his mouth, or over his naked chest, or even in his big hands— you get the point.

but, it was time for change. healthy change.

you were pleasantly surprised when wonwoo joined you in your research of couple therapy-esque exercises to practice. you were dedicated to finding a way to help two of you actually resolve things and understand each other instead of just fucking them away. you could have actually attended a couple's therapist, but who seriously had the time for that when you could find all of the tips they’d tell you online for free anyways?

after a few days of web browsing, you came across a method that seemed reasonable and had a decently high success rate. all it entailed was simply having a quick, 10-minute discussion whenever one of you came home for the day. the trendy blogger who posted the article coined this routine as the "at home unwind". the key of the conversation was to offer both of you time to decompress and actually hear about the other's day and emotions before discussing anything negative... or doing anything physical.

the cyber therapist explicitly mentioned that was the most important thing to avoid.

oddly enough, it reassured you that this issue was common enough for others to experience, feeling like this method of practice nailed you and wonwoo’s biggest issue directly on the head. however, as pitiful as it sounded, you weren’t sure how confident you were in either of your abilities to talk for 10 minutes straight while keeping your hands to yourself.

these days, it felt like arguing and fucking were the only channels of communication for you two. it was terrible, you know, but wonwoo had a slick mouth and a huge cock - pair those with your stubborn attitude and the equation practically works itself out. during especially argumentative days, it was only a matter of time before one of you pounced on the other. still, wonwoo was fully on board to take on this new challenge and you were thankful for that.

the first four or so sessions went magnificently. you had actually begun to talk to wonwoo every evening and started to get a better look on his daily work life, and the kinds of things he dealt with and how certain things lifted his mood or took a toll on him. it made you remember how much you loved talking to your boyfriend. he was deep, sentimental, and had some of the most intriguing insight you’ve ever heard from anybody.

maybe the internet wasn't always full of shit, since this diy therapy was clearly helping steer your relationship towards a better place. you were starting to get a really good feeling about this whole thing.

and then the next argument came.

god, you could hardly remember what even sparked the fight this time. perhaps it was something about house chores, or you staying out too late with your friends – all you could confidently remember was getting pissed off from the accusatory tone in his voice.

before you knew it, you were exchanging petty back and forths throughout the day, and slamming doors just a little too loudly. admittedly, you did want to fuck him as you fell back into your old habits. hearing wonwoo's rude remarks would make your ears steam with annoyance, but you also recognized the familiar look in his eyes that would only show face when he wanted to stuff you full with that fat cock of his until you were whimpering apologies for being an asshole. deep down, you wanted him to make you.

but alas, you kept to yourselves. you tried to rely on your new little therapeutic routine, but even those talks would end in exasperation and headaches. within a day or two, you started to ween off the unwinding technique, cutting the conversation short as soon as one of you caught an attitude. something inside you couldn't have cared in the slightest, and you were sure he didn't either. it wasn't until things escalated a bit further than they usually did one night that caused wonwoo to worry.

the screaming match was your fault, knowing full well that you were the hypocrite for fussing at him the minute he came home from a late night out with his buddies. you were the usual culprit when it came to staying out well into the hours of the night without so much as a text to wonwoo. but you were already irritated and irrational, so you decided to take it out on him.

"you're a fucking asshole, y/n." was the last thing wonwoo had muttered before going into your shared room and forcing the door shut, the wooden echo sounding throughout the apartment.

you barely managed a half-hearted "fuck you" in return, feeling a pang of guilt in your stomach from the aggravation you heard in his voice. still, you stubbornly held your ground, taking to sleep on the couch that night.

you were still asleep, sprawled on the cushions as wonwoo went to work the next morning. he had glanced at your sleeping figure on the way out, debating whether to wake you up or not. he ultimately decided against it as he wordlessly left and let his bitchy boyfriend sleep.

when you did awake, you had resulted to brooding under the blankets all day. you sighed, annoyed at your heavy conscious stirring within you as you knew it should you who apologizes first.

as thick skulled as you were, you did manage to pick up your phone in order to text wonwoo. but before you got the chance to get typing, you were met with a familiar ping.

wonu 🐈‍⬛: make sure you're home when i get off. we haven't done our 10 in a couple days.

you knew he was talking about the at home unwind, which you two had been skipping due to the heat of the atmosphere at home. despite how it may seem through your eyes, wonwoo couldn't stand arguing with you - especially to this extent.

all he could think about during his busy workday was how you were most definitely sulking at home, alone. and of course, he was right. he was always right when it came to you. you never reached out to others when you were frustrated, not even him, which only bothered him more. on the other hand, he also couldn't shake the image of you bundled up in his clothes.

you always loved to borrow and wear his things, no matter how mad at him you got, with those gut-wrenchingly attractive lips of yours plumped up into a pout. the things he wanted that mouth of yours, so attitudinal but so supple, to do him during times like this.

wonwoo released a hushed, deep groan as he pinched the bridge of his nose, realizing he was straining his office pants.

you sighed, reading the text over once more but not bothering to respond. everything you had to say you might as well save for the exercise.

you felt wonwoo's presence before you heard it. he walked through the door quietly, causing your head to peak around the corner from your room as he shrugged off his jacket and set his things down.

he had went to the gym after work, as he usually does, his attire changed from his plain button up and slacks to loose sweats and that one white tee that tightly hugged his chiseled torso.

one look up to you had your breath catching in your throat, his eye contact intense as he held it while slipping his shoes off. you had no clue what to say when his long legs carried himself over to the couch you had spent most of the day grumbling to yourself on. taking a seat, wonwoo spread his legs comfortably while patting his thigh, keeping his gaze downcast.

you felt small, as if you were a child being beckoned over. nonetheless you obeyed, walking over to him and shyly climbing into his lap.

the air was stiff as you awkwardly tried to get comfortable, wonwoo's hands taking over to shift your legs so that you straddled him. you avoided looking at his gorgeous, clearly vexed face as your knees caged around his waist. you sat like that in silence for what felt like eternity, the warmth of his body taking over yours as you watched his buff chest rise and fall under the constraints of his t-shirt. you were suddenly painfully aware of how long it had been since you'd been this close within his proximity.

on the days you didn't fight, you were always all over your massive boyfriend. you were addicted to the feeling of his larger form and smooth skin against yours. even now, despite the tension in the air, you could physically feel yourself relaxing from being atop of him like this.

"you know you really pissed me off last night."

of course that's the first thing that comes out of his mouth. you felt your blood spike immediately, eyes shooting up to him as he stared at you with such a lack of expression it seemed almost smug.

"but you-" you started, ready to fire back, but caught yourself. "forget it. i thought you wanted to do the unwind."

"i do." he responded calmly, slowly sliding his hands up your thighs and meeting behind your back. you ignored the motion, sporting that exact pout that he loved so fucking much.

"then we need to follow the steps." you chided back, trying to remember the order of the prompts. the first one was simple. "so... how was work? anything weigh you down at all?"

it was awkward trying to ask the questions with a genuine tone, knowing how pissed you both still were.

"honestly, i couldn't stop thinking about how much i wanted to fuck you all day."

your gasp was involuntary, eyes shooting back to his in disbelief. this time that signature smirk of his stretched loosely on his face, signaling that you gave him the exact reaction he was looking for. before you could interject he kept going, that deep voice of his dropping an octave.

"had me thinking about how much of a bitch you were last night, and how i should've just stayed home today to make sure i knocked it right out of you." you felt his grip on your ass tighten with his words.

"w-wonwoo..." you tried to speak up, your fidgeting giving away your growing nerves. "whatever you're doing-"

"god, you had me bricked up in the middle of a fucking meeting, y/n. you like doing that to me don't you? you just have to go and get me so riled up so that the only thing i can think about the next few days is feeling you shaking under me, hm?"

there were very few times you've been rendered speechless, yet this was undoubtedly one of them. your skin had managed to catch on fire in the matter of seconds from the way he was speaking to you alone, your body instinctually reacting to him. you now understood in full wonwoo's aforementioned struggle of straining his pants at work, since you were feeling the very same thing happen to your boxers now.

your own erection started to grow while you envisioned wonwoo's words, and you suddenly felt a twitch under you. a quiet moan escaped you when you looked down to see wonwoo's familiar bulge for yourself, proudly prodding through his sweats.

his smirk had grown even wider when you looked back up to him, lust pooling in your eyes as he ran his tongue lazily over his pristine teeth. that grin was so teasing that you didn't know if you wanted to punch or kiss it off.

you decided on the latter.

everything moved so quickly as your frustration boiled past your breaking point, causing you to lurch forward and claim wonwoo's mouth against your own. you held back a whimper feeling his plush lips against yours for the first time in what felt like years. it had only been a couple days, but with wonwoo sometimes hours felt like a lifetime.

you allow your head to grow fuzzy as your boyfriend presses deeper against you, scooting your body further up his thighs so that he can taste even more of you in one go. this time a pathetic moan did fall from you as wonwoo's hot tongue slipped into your mouth, and he eagerly swallowed the sound. your hands grew a mind of their own as they tangled in his soft, jet black strands.

wonwoo greedily ground your hips against his, making sure you felt his hardened length glide against yours before he sat you directly on top of it, causing you to instinctively clench around nothing. the sound of wonwoo's plump lips smacking against yours caused him to groan, a chilling shock shooting down your spine once he started sucking on your tongue.

when you were running out of air, wonwoo pulled away to hear you whimper aloud while his hungry lips attached to your jaw, slowly kissing his way down your neck.

"wonu," you groaned, grabbing onto his wide shoulders while bucking your hips forwards again. you swore you could feel his abs through his shirt. you called his name a second time, trying to stabilize your voice to get his attention.

he hummed in acknowledgment without stopping his ministrations, sucking leisurely just above your weak spot. you whimpered once more and reluctantly push against his shoulders to detach him from your neck, breathing heavily as his blown out eyes assessed you.

you felt like prey under his narrow glare, desire and anger somehow coexisting his dark eyes. you wanted nothing more than to let him devour you, but you could hear that faint voice of reason in the back of your head telling you not to resort to your old ways. you wanted to listen while you could at least still recognize it.

"the exercise..." you sighed, "we have to finish."

your hands wander all over each other as you try to pace your breathing and calm down, the tension in the room palpable. wonwoo nods at your suggestion, closing his eyes to stretch his neck side to side. something only jeon wonwoo could make look that sexy.

"okay, so how was your day?" he mutters before leaning back in, lips gently pressing directly your neck's the soft spot. its a much gentler kiss, him showing attention to each patch of skin he came across.

you allow your eyes to flutter shut and let out a breath as you felt him pamper you, tenderly running his large hands up and down your back.

"it was- good... i mean, it was okay." you concentrated on speaking, twirling a bit of wonwoo's hair betwixt your fingers.

"just okay?" wonwoo spoke against your neck, knowing how you loved the vibration of his voice.

"well... i spent most of it moping." you sunk a bit further down on his lap at the admission.

"really? what's got you down, no plans today?" he feigned curiosity between kisses, knowing good and well exactly why you spent all day upset.

"no i— oh my god," you trailed off, feeling wonwoo's tongue drag flatly along your collarbone. when did his hands find their way under your shirt?

when you felt a mark forming at the base of your throat your head tilted back, sending a moan into the open air as you wrapped your arms around wonwoo's shoulders.

"w-wonu, the exercise..." the words carried no authority coming from you, but wonwoo relented and pulled away from your neck.

"right, right." he responded. he blinked a few times while caressing your hips, visibly trying to snap out of the trance he'd fallen into.

"i just feel bad about last night..." you went on. "its kind of all i've been thinking about."

wonwoo sighed, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he studied you.

"i feel like shit too, baby. as soon you went to bed i regretted everything. i shouldn't have reacted to you that way when i'd just stepped through the door."

you felt the smallest flurry of butterflies from his softened demeanor, his original lustful gaze of fire sizzling for just a moment as he stared directly in your eyes with a gentleness you could tell was genuine. the pang of love that you felt conjure out of no where you was impossible to ignore, but so was the hint of desire that came along with it as he kept speaking.

"i've been wrong about a lot without even realizing it, which only makes things worse when we're frustrated."

the look of shy longing that now overtook his eyes felt incomprehensibly magnetic, and while the aggravation of the other day still burned underneath your skin, you suddenly found yourself wanting to do anything in order to make wonwoo feel better.

you couldn't remember a time where wonwoo had taken responsibility like this before, admitting fault without a hint of backlash. even though he knew you were both in the wrong a majority of the time, he was humbling himself to make amends with you– and you couldn't believe how much it was turning you on.

"i don't like going to bed angry at you," wonwoo continued his rambling, stuttering only a bit when you decided it was your turn to start kissing down his neck.

as terrible as it was, his words were starting to fade into background noise as you glide your lips along his supple skin, embracing his warm and brawny scent. you started feeling up his biceps, gently squeezing the muscle in your palms. you let yourself bask in how even more defined they felt from his gym session, which you were left to assume was less than an hour ago.

"i..." he slightly trembled, clearly losing himself to your actions. "i think theres a lot more that we could do to help fix us... you know what i mean?" he spoke in a low tone, and you caught on to how his sentences started slurring into groans when you suckled just below his sharp jaw.

much like he did earlier, you only offered wonwoo a hum of acknowledgment and nothing more.

in hindsight, you should be fully attentive to everything he's saying. especially because this was a rare moment where he was actively trying to solve things. but you just couldn't help yourself - the gentle and guilty tone of his voice was causing your mind to melt, let alone how good his body felt under yours again after so long. what was really sealing your coffin was the taste of his skin as you nipped at it, causing you to stir downstairs.

"are you even listening to me, y/n?" wonwoo asked, a large hand tugging the back of the neck so he could look into your eyes. your glossed over, lovestruck eyes. "all i'm trying to say is i'm sor-"

wonwoo's apology didn't even get to leave his lips in entirety before you were pressing them against yours, trapping the unfinished sentence back into the void. your boyfriend's eyes widened slightly at the desperation in the act, before slowly closing them and allowing you to take over.

you moaned quietly, the kiss immediately picking up intensity while you had your way in absolutely ravaging wonwoo, your thighs tightening around his waist as you tasted him more. you could feel wonwoo's resolve melting the longer you played with his hair, keeping his head firmly in place to keep feeding him the long winded kiss. he pulled away right before you could drain him of his very last drop of sanity, groaning at how your teeth latched on to his bottom lip for just a second longer.

"shouldn't we be talking, babe? you were the one who wanted to do the therapy..." wonwoo spoke, his words opposing his actions as he dragged your hips over his.

"i know, i know... just, fuck... later, please." you exhaled out, feeling overcome with pure want as one of your hands instinctively dropped down to palm your bulge.

wonwoo didn't bother hiding his smirk as he peered between your bodies at your shameless action, feeling overwhelmingly smug that he could get you acting this way with such little effort. he knew exactly how fervidly your body reacted to him, and it only inflated his ego more.

he couldn't deny your adorable pleading voice, the usual spiteful tone of yours completely replaced by begs for him. wonwoo could see how you wanted nothing more than to just feel him on top of you, overwhelming you, and he was losing his self control much faster than he'd like to admit.

fuck it, you guys could figure out the sappy stuff later.

there was no hesitation when wonwoo's long fingers encased your face and pulled you back to him, completely taking over your mouth with a searing kiss. you pitifully attempted to match his pace while you processed the heat of the moment. less than a beat later your hips were back to bucking at the feeling of that tongue of his forcing its way past your lips, slipping into your cavern and running dauntlessly over your teeth before pressing flat against your own wet muscle.

your hands were clinging to his shirt, bunching it up near his chest before you realized how in the way it was of you having true access to all of him. you started tugging at the hems of his shirt, whimpering when wonwoo's relentless tongue traced patterns on the roof of your mouth.

he immediately got the hint, pulling away to chuckle against your face while helping you yank the snug material over his head. you released a deep sigh of relief you once his body was revealed, hands shaky as you finally danced them across his perfect skin.

wonwoo was so built so fucking disrespectfully.

his chiseled muscles and bare chest were on full display to your hungry eyes. those same proportions that drove you crazy just from looking at him in fitted clothing now had your mind racing faster than you could comprehend. his exposed, broad shoulders grew wider each time you saw them, and those perked nipples and sculpted abs stared directly back at you - you had no idea if you could ever get used to him.

he pulled your mouth back to his immediately, gifting you the sloppiest open mouth kisses imaginable as all of the words you had planned to say melted into moans. you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding into him again through all the layers of your shorts, your quickly throbbing erection deliciously dragging along his much larger one. you dared break apart from wonwoo’s addictive lips just to glance down at the enormous tent in his pants, wanting to watch yourself drag your clothed cock against his again.

wonwoo chuckled, knowing you were slipping into that headspace that caused you to act like a starved maniac - you were his favorite when you acted like this.

before you knew it, you were being tossed, your back molding with the couch cushions. you looked up to see wonwoo smirking down at you, looking nothing short of divine from above you. a blush rose to your cheeks from how the soft light of your living room was cast agains the grooves of his physique.

"you want me?" he teased.

the words were caught in your throat, but you didn't even need them as wonwoo was quick to pull your own shirt clean off, covering your body with his own frame. your coo's of approval made wonwoo's dick twitch again, knowing how much you loved feeling the delicious pressure of his weight on you.

your fingertips roamed the vast expanse of wonwoo's back as he starting kissing you dizzy again, your hands just as hungry as your mouth was to feel him.

your eyes remained closed as he started kissing down your body, making sure to leave a teasing kitten lick to an exposed nipple on his way down. you shuddered at the sensation, a hand flying back to his hair as you felt his hands smooth both your shorts and underwear down your legs all in one go.

neither of you could handle much teasing when you were worked up like this. however, your back still arched against the cushions when wonwoo placed a chaste kiss to your cock, groaning as he felt streaks of precum that managed to leak through and decorate your member. he did you a quick favor, greedily licking at the underside of your cock and loving how you tugged at his hair.

wonwoo said nothing as he ventured lower, allowing his eager tongue to lap a stripe around your hole, rimming you to his content. you gasped loudly, a string of curses and disorganized begs falling from your lips while he used both palms to hold you still.

you felt tears begin to prickle at your eyes, both from desperation and satisfaction although he'd barely done anything yet. it wasn't until you felt his pink tongue finally push into entrance that a tear cascaded down your cheek, feeling the vibrations of his moans reverberate through your entire body.

it felt like as soon as wonwoo got started he had finished, withdrawing from playing with your ass as if he had only wanted a quick taste.

"so good for me, baby. not feeling like a bitch anymore, are we?" he taunted as he settled himself back over you, his cockiness making you try to avoid ogling over the sight of his chain dangling above his burly chest.

you don't bother tossing a sarcastic comment back, instead choosing to yank his neck down to sink your teeth into it. you felt a rush of pleasure from the sound that you pulled out of him, taking your time to lave your tongue over the same spot to soothe it.

wonwoo allows himself to enjoy your rough actions for a second before bringing a hand up to wrap around your neck, forcing your head back down against the couch. he makes direct eye contact with you, noting how your eyes are darkened with the same aura that swirled within his, his signature smirk stretching back across his face as he tightened his grip.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, wonwoo's long fingers keeping any sound you could have made from escaping. you bring your hands around his forearm and hike your legs back around his slender waist, obsessed with feeling as much of him at once as you can. your mind was just about to go fully blank, reaching that dangerous zone of euphoria right as wonwoo stole yet another tantalizing kiss from you, completely overriding your senses.

and you just let him have it all, whatever he wanted. it felt so good letting him take it like this however he saw fit.

he ground his hips against yours, letting you feel your bare bottom half rub against the soft material of his sweats - just to push you that extra step further into desperation. eventually, you could tell wonwoo was proud enough of himself to move on, seeing as he'd gotten you to the peak of submission that he aimed for.

he released your neck and freed your lips for just a moment as he leaned up to his knees, urgently dragging his pants down. he locked eyes with you just to watch the expression on your face when your gaze dropped down to his cock, stood at full attention and throbbing with the need of friction. no matter how many times you'd seen and taken his cock, his girth would shock you every single time.

"still not used to it, are you, baby boy?" wonwoo teased, reaching out to leave a gentle but degrading flick against your own cock.

he often made jokes about the drastic difference your sizes to piss you off, and while you did get defensive it was impossible to deny the truth to the statements - he was packing a monster under those slacks, and you wanted it more than ever right now.

the ever-so-attentive boyfriend that he was, wonwoo read your mind. with a speed that you were eternally grateful for, the now naked man grabbed a bottle of lube conveniently from the drawer beside the couch. he made sure to lathe your fluttering hole in however much he felt necessary before finally giving you his torso's warmth once more, leaning over you while hiking your leg up and over his shoulder.

you moaned feeling the stretch in your leg combined with wonwoo's dick prodding against your hole, his lips smothering your face with wet kisses as a warning before he began pushing into you.

bliss always came so quickly with wonwoo, especially when the atmosphere was heated with the pretense of aggravated lust as it was now. the deep rolls of his hips had you clamping your hand over your mouth to keep any obnoxious mewls in, although the action was practically useless with how they were slipping out anyways. not that wonwoo minded, his head just growing bigger with how good he knew he was fucking you.

"oh my god, i think i'm already close, wonu-" you groaned, holding onto his goosebumped skin like a vice.

"already?" he teased, leaning down to nibble along your collarbone. "you must've really fucking missed me, i knew you did."

you simply dug your blunt nails into his shoulder blade in response, him returning the favor by gripping your thigh with bruising strength. the grinding of his hips doubled in speed, bottoming out in you repeatedly until beads of sweat began tracing both of your foreheads.

wonwoo sucked one more mark onto your chest for good measure, and left another loud smooch on your cheek before dipping his tongue back into your whiny mouth. the barrage of sensations was enough for you to be hurdled towards your climax. you couldn't get a singular word out as white overtook your vision, ejaculating all over wonwoo's perfect porcelain chest.

he groaned loudly in pleasure. the feeling of your arousal dripping down to his abs caused his hips to stutter before he sheathed fully inside you, shooting his cum into you as well.

both of your hips slowed into a rhythmic pace, still chasing the highs of your orgasms until all limbs went weak and wonwoo was pulling out. you simply laid still in the sticky bliss, running your hands along his glistening skin while he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

"i love you," is what he muttered while basking in your scent.

"i love you too, woo."

your mouth remained ajar to speak more on your predicament, but refrained. if you were being honest, you knew that neither of you gave a damn right now. you could just start over tomorrow.

so, you hadn't quite listened to the therapist's advice... your body was buzzing with thanks that you didn't.

#kpop x male reader #wonwoo x male reader #kpop smut #svt x male reader #male reader smut #kpop male reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #svt male reader #wonwoo x reader #svt x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop lgbtq

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harpsinfinity · 3 days ago

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HARPY MY LOVE!

May I request a fic with RE2 Leon getting an awkward boner and needing the reader to deal with it? I feel like you would write this deliciously. You can chose to make him a sub or a needy Dom whatever you think is best!

ILY and hope you have a great day x

I love you I love you I love you

Also I'm making this post re2 events + SUBBY LEON.

I listened to Ayesha erotica while writing this

Nsfw !! ↓↓↓

Okay hear me out hear me out

You're at an event with Leon, his becoming of an agent. He's having fun, you're having fun, the drinks are flowing perfectly.

You're all sat at a table, making conversation and just having a good time.

It's all fun and games until Leon notices how tight his pants now feel, awkward much. He tries his best to ignore it, but it's difficult to with how he's now throbbing with need. And it doesn't help when you notice and slide your hand up his thigh, stopping right at the front of his pants and palming him

thank god for table clothes

Eventually you end up in the bathroom, the place you were at was so fancy it had its own sofa in the bathroom. Which you gladly sat Leon down on as you pulled his cock out and got to work

You straddled his lap, lips locked as your hand stroked him, your thumb subbing the tip every now and then until it was a mess, coated in pre and the obscene wet sounds bouncing off the walls

Leon looked so cute, his face bright red and flustered as he fought back his whimpers with the fear that someone could talk in on you both.

That was no good, you decided. Hiking your dress up to your hips and pulling your panties aside, it made it much for difficult for him to hide his whimpers and whines when your slick walls were wrapped snuggly around him

His hands placed themselves on your hips and you began to bounce on him like your life depended on it. He was so big, managing to hit all the right spots with so little effort, it almost turned your brain into mush too.

"baby, fuck, you feel so good"

You swore you could see tears of overstimulation in his sapphire blue eyes before he stuffed his face in the crook of your neck

He was always so sensitive

Your hips went down as his went up, sending shocks of bliss up both of your spines. A loud, sharp whine came forth from his throat as your walls clamped around him, hard.

He clearly wasn't worried about being walked in now, he had nothing to lose as your pussy sucked him in. Leon's big hands slid up your waist, pulling the neckline of your dress down until your chest was exposed. His mouth immediately got to work as he shoved his head forward.

Attempting to muffle his needy moans as he tongue swirled around your perked nipples, your hand tangled itself in his golden locks as you let your eyes roll back in bliss.

"you feel so good inside me, baby. So big"

You praise through pleasured pants, you tighten around him when you feel his dick twitch inside of you. with the way his moans and whines started to increase in volume, and the desperate bucking of his hips, you knew he was getting close

"c-can I come? Pleasepleaseplease let me come, I've been so good, please- wanna cum"

His eyes rolled back and his jaw went slack.

"yes you can, such a good boy, come for me"

In a attempt to somewhat silence himself, he leaned to kiss you. Though you were quicker, pulling him away with a sharp tug to his hair. A noisy, erotic whine ripped through him, bouncing off the walls as he came. Hard.

He seemed to fill you up forever with his massive load. you soon joined him, moaning in ecstacy as you coated his cock and your thighs in slick. The combined highs dripping onto the pristine, white tiled floor of the bathroom.

"d-did I do good?"

Leon panted, his forehead slick with sweat, and a tired disheveled look coating his form.

You smile, brushing back his damp hair and pressing a kiss to his hairline

"you did amazing, love. c'mon, let's get cleaned up" you stick a final kiss to his lips "we still got a party to get back to"

After that, the rest of the night went smoothly.

And a few extra rounds happened when you got home

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with-my-calamitous-love · 2 days ago

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i meant to finish this some time ago 😭 but anyway, back on my bodyguard rotting! special tag for @crushmeeren because i think i put this in ur inbox a while ago and never got around to it lol, anyway here it is. nsfw under divider, f! reader for that part 🤍🫧

bodyguard! eijiro, who has a smile just like sunshine. who has a dopey grin and the personality of a golden retriever. who, on paper, doesn’t sound like he’d be capable of even hurting a fly- until you see his rock hard muscles peaking through his shirt, or the jagged edges of his skin after activating his quirk. who, 90% of the time, is so sweet its tooth rotting. the other 10% of the time, he’s a nightmare to whoever threatens you.

bodyguard! eijiro, who genuinely loves his job. he’s level-headed and rational, able to solve most disputes with some talking or light physical action. who can’t complain, because after all, most of his day is being around a funny, beautiful person- so who cares if he has to rough up a guy for cutting you off or being too touchy? he’s happy to do it.

bodyguard! eijiro, who takes ‘doing anything to protect you’ and makes it ‘doing anything for you.’ don’t feel like driving? he’s got it. have a very specific craving at 2 in the morning? no questions asked. he’s also attentive, noting your mannerisms or idiosyncrasies that make you, you. he may not say it, but he knows those subtle signs of burn out, or anxiety, or exhaustion. as much as his job is to protect you from external threats, he cares just as much- if not more- about protecting your happiness.

bodyguard! eijiro, who is the best person to bring to bars or clubs. the first reason being that you’d trust him if you were hanging off a ledge, but the second being that he’s just may be the funniest, most charming guy you’ve ever met. who doesn’t even realize how attractive it is, the way he can make you lose your breath with laughter while maintaining an iron grip on your drink, placing his hand on your waist and protectively eyeing anyone who’s eyes seem a little too stuck on you for his liking.

bodyguard! eijiro, who asks if its okay if he take the two of you back to his place because its closer, and because he secretly doesn’t want the night to end. who sees your shoes by the door, coat laying on his couch, and you unwinding in his washroom and feels a little pang in his heart. who knows his feelings well and knows damn well by now he has a crush, but keeps it professional. until you can’t hold it in any longer and tell him how bad you have it for him. by then, he’s throwing you over his shoulder and towards his bedroom.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.*

bodyguard! ejiro, who is just as sweet as he is rough. who will tug off your clothes (shredding them if he has to) and apologetically kiss the bare skin underneath. who has sharp teeth, and won’t hesitate to sink them in even if you tear up a little. who manhandles you, tossing you around on the bed like its nothing, whispering: “you like this position, baby?” “let me know what feels good.” meanwhile, he’s folding you like origami.

bodyguard! eijiro, who loves your tits. who can’t resist grabbing himself a handful once he gets your bra off, captivated by the way the jiggle and spring free. who can be a little mean, pinching and twisting your nipples before taking one in his mouth. who makes sure you feel his razor sharp teeth graze the sensitive bud, alternating between the two, giving each the same amount of love and attention. who releases them with a slight pop! deciding he wants to taste more of you.

bodyguard! eijiro, makes sure your comfortable before going down on you like he’s starving. on any other day, he’d ease into it- slowly kissing, soft licks and light sucking- but who has waited so long to do this he hopes you’ll forgive his impatience. who makes sure your thighs wrap around his head, eating your pussy out like its his last meal. who literally will not move from between your legs until you make him, telling him that you’re already dizzy with pleasure.

bodyguard! eijiro, who smirks a little when he pulls his boxers down, letting his cock spring free, seeing your eyes widen and your cheeks blush. who, quite frankly, knows he’s big, but also knows how to use it. who takes your thighs and folds you in half, giving him a better view. who’ll run the tip of his cock through your folds, hearing your whines and feeling it go straight to his dick. who meets no resistance finally pushing himself inside you, moaning in unison when he feels your pretty walls taking him in.

bodyguard! eijiro, who has god-like stamina. who makes that skin slapping noise he knows drives you insane, grunting and moaning when he feels himself reach mind-meltingly deep inside you. who wrecks your pussy and praises you while he’s doing it: “taking me so good, ah.” “making me feel so good, princess? shit, i’m not stopping anytime soon.” who makes a mental note to himself that he’ll probably run out the next morning to grab you plan b.

speaking of which… bodyguard! eijiro, who slows down just a little, asking you where you want him to finish. who could cum right then and there when you tell him you don’t want him pulling out, to which he’s more than happy to oblige. who feels his orgasm coming, but draws out yours as much as possible- massaging your tits, kissing you deep, rubbing little circles on your clit. who makes sure he’s buried deep when he feels you cum, groaning as he feels your walls clamp down on his cock. who pumps in and out a few more times before collapsing down beside you. who, 2 seconds later, gets up to grab you water or ice, but who can’t resist when you pull him back into bed, vowing to deal with the soreness as long as he’s next to you.

bodyguard! eijiro, who is more than happy to carry you around everywhere the next morning, returning back to his jovial green like he didn’t just rearrange your organs the night before. <3

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klonoadreams · 2 days ago

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Now that everyone is awake and Malleus is jumpscaring Idia at the door, I just wanna yap about the fact that a lot of this really fucking adds up to why having severe abandonment issues spanning from WHILE IN THE EGG and then hatching is a serious issue and Lilia is not exempt from it either because he's been doing his god damn best, but there's still this distance he puts between him and Malleus WHEN YOU'RE HIS DAD TOO DAMMIT

Like the fucking dead dudes need to be exorcised, but Lilia, please, when you're teaching Malleus to cherish the transient lives of those around him with GaoGao, YOU HAVE TO ALSO EXPLAIN IT TO HIM.

Like it's a massive miscommunication that led to this situation because Malleus HATES being lonely. But also don't mind my AuDHD ass bringing up RSD cuz him reacting the way he did was that fucking feeling like someone was clawing your heart out at the idea that those closest to him were leaving him like that (abandoning him) WITHOUT HIM is peak rejection sensitive dysphoria doing its thing.

Legit, it's honestly sad, but this is very much the fucking Senate's fault overall, and I hope the consequences go entirely to them because Malleus is legit the equivalent of someone who just turned 18 and expected to be 100 percent mature, WHEN HE LITERALLY JUST TURNED 18 AND WILL BE LIKE THAT FOR A DAMN WHILE. It's like turning 18 in the states, but you're only legally an adult and can vote, but fuck if you can't drink nor do anything most other adults are capable of, like taxes, paying bills, and all that shit.

Throw in that elitist senate ripping a baby Malleus out of Lilia's arms, and then keeping the two away from each other, and you have the most horrifically stunted, traumatized person around who has yet to realize that there are better ways to cope.

Consequences be damned, I want Ace to talk some sense into Malleus and Lilia again like in endless halloween. GET THEIR ASS.

#klonoa speaks #twst #twisted wonderland spoilers #twst spoilers #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #ace trappola my beloved please smack some sense into them #malleus defender to the end but also i want some nuance to this shit when we talking consequences #just yapping away cuz i have feelings ok ok ok #Ayo what the fuck mobile ate some of my tags

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kkoga · 2 days ago

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DO IT. DO THE HURT NO COMFORT. PLPSLSPLSPSLSPLS I LOVE ANGST!!!

-🎧

A/N : your wish is my command....

RAINY NIGHTS, sophia laforteza x fem!reader

Warning ! Hurt no comfort, toxic relationship, mentions of sensitive topics, not proofread

Disclaimer ! Everything written here is pure fiction. Every person is not a real portrayal of themselves.

Now playing ! Cologne by beabadobee

WC — I dont knkw bruh i wrote this and its 3 fucking am im not mentally sane lawl phones also 7 percent.

Synopsis ! After Sophia Laforteza fucks up multiple times, Y/n decides she's had enough. Time and time the girl had waited, but much to her dismay, all Sophia had done, was disappoint her.

Y/n shamefully exits the restaurant, feeling dozens of eyes on her. The girl had been waiting for her girlfriend, Sophia Laforteza, to show up to a date they've been planning for weeks now.

The first hour wasn't so bad. Maybe she had gotten stuck in traffic, or maybe she would be just a little late. The second hour was worse. At that point, waiters and waitresses had started asking her where her partner was. And what Y/n hated the most, was the fact that she had no answer to their questions.

Now here she was, after the fourth hour of waiting. It was currently 12 am, and much to the girl's luck, it had just started raining.

The girl could only sigh.

"What a great marvellous day! Not only does Sophia leave me waiting for our date, it starts raining right after I get kicked out! Absolutely hilarious!" Y/n mumbes to herself, tears beginning to well up.

"Maybe she just forgot. I mean, she's busy afterall..." The girl tried her best to convince herself that this was going to be a one time thing.

She was wrong.

Y/n bites her inner lip. It has been 2 hours since their designated sleepover. It's been weeks since Sophia had gone over to her house. So they'd been planning for a movie night. And tonight was that night. So why exactly has Sophia been ignoring her calls?

Y/n presses the call button once more, but to no avail, she was met with Sophia's voice mail for the nth time.

The popcorn was starting to get cold, and the ice cream was starting to melt. Y/n sighs. It's been two hours. Maybe she got caught up in an emergency schedule?

"Couldn't she just have told me...?" Y/n shakenly whispers to herself. This was the fourth time Sophia had stood her up this month alone.

Y/n begrudgingly placed the ice cream back in the fridge and seals the popcorn in a random container. The sound of rain keeping her grounded.

"It's okay. This will be the last time this happens."

Finally. Sophia had finally shown up to a hang out. Y/n had been waiting for the past month. The girl had greatly missed her girlfriend, and she hoped Sophia felt the same.

"Sophie! Hi!" Y/n ran up to Sophia, and hugged her as tight as she could. Afraid to let go, scared she might lose the one person able to cheer her up with a simple smile.

"Y/n! Baby! Hi, i missed you so much." Sophia hugged the girl back, and for a moment, Y/n thought,

"Finally. We're back to normal. Oh god, how I've missed my girl."

Y/n couldn't help the small but sweet smile that had formed.

It had been an hour since their hang out started, and apparently, Sophia had to go. Y/n felt sad, but knew it was her job, her dream. And Y/n would never get in the way of that.

As Sophia entered her car, Y/n bid goodbye to her girlfriend.

"Bye Sophie, miss you, and i love you." Y/n leans down for a cheek kiss, almost missing the unreadable expression Sophia had on her face.

"Yeah, bye." And with that, Sophia drives off to god knows where.

"No i love you too...? No... maybe she just forgot. It's fine." And suddenly, rain had started pouring. Y/n quickly ran for cover, but couldn't avoid looking like a somewhat wet puppy.

It was infact, not fine. It had been three months since that little mini date, and Sophia hadn't said the words "I love you". Atleast not without Y/n basically telling her to.

What went wrong? What did Y/n ever do? Did she offend Sophia? Did she do anything to form this... this gap between them?

Y/n felt so lost. So... confused. She was so sure she hadn't done anything. At least not anything she could remember. Well, she was going to find out tonight.

The door opens widely, in a swift manner. And in comes Sophia, sick and worried.

"Y/N, BABY, ARE YOU OKAY?? I came as soon as i got the text, I—" The panicked Sophia came in, expecting to see an injured or sick Y/n. But all she had found was Y/n sitting on the chair of one of her counters, with a stoic look on her face.

Sophia's breathe was heavy, like she had ran to get to Y/n's apartment.

"Why are you completely fine? You texted me it was an emergency Y/n, I was busy—!"

"Well, you always are, aren't you?" Y/n looks up to Sophia's eyes, and frustration begins to fill the Filipina.

"Excuse me? You know I'm constantly busy. For fucks sake, I'm an idol! You can't—"

"I know. I know what I signed up for, Laforteza. I know I'd never get in the way of your dreams. You would never even let me." Y/n gets off the stool, and faces her girlfriend.

"So what's your point! What, you call me here because you missed me? I was in a fucking meeting Y/n. With one of HYBE's officials!! Do you know how fucking important that is?" Sophia scratches her head in disbelief, her anger bubbling up faster than it ever has. Y/n sighs defeatedly.

"More important than me?"

Silence filled the apartment. What felt like hours were only a few measly seconds.

"The silence was more than enough, Laforteza. I'm tired. I am so fucking tired of you leaving me hanging. At first, it was a date here, a date there, but nowadays, it's like everything we plan just ends up with me waiting."

"But I'm trying Y/n! I'm trying my best for you, for my members, for my fucking dream. Why can't you just understand that?"

"Then answer this, Laforteza. When was the last time you had told me the words "I love you"? When was the last time you had willingly told me those three words."

Sophia tried to recollect, the Filipina had really tried her best. But the realization had hit her hard.

"Fucking THINK Laforteza. Give me a goddamned answer. When was the last time you had given me a sincere, loving, "I love you"?... ANSWER ME!"

"I... I can't remember...." Sophia had started tearing up. Why couldn't she fucking remember the last time she had said I love you to her own fucking girlfriend?

Y/n let out a laugh. But it wasn't the usual light and hearty laugh Sophia had always heard. This laugh sounded painful. It was like all of Y/n's vocal chords had suddenly forgotten what a laugh had sounded like.

After a few seconds, Y/n's laughing had turned into sobs.

"Do you know how many times I've had to shamefully walk out of a restaurant, or get kicked out? Sophia, everyone looked at me. Their eyes were so full of pity. The waiters and waitresses constantly checked up on me like I was some poor child, left behind by her mother. Countless times, Sophia. I endured it all, thinking it would be the last time."

Y/n's voice had started cracking, and the girl had made a face Sophia had never seen before. One filled with so much sadness, so much sorrow.

"But time and time again, you proved me wrong. Every date you stood up, every "I love you" left unanswered, destroyed me, Sophia."

"Baby... baby I'm so sorry, please—" Sophia tries to move closer to Y/n, but the girl pulls away.

"Don't. Don't ever call me baby ever again. You don't get the fucking right, Sophia."

"I'm so disappointed in you Sophia. I never thought you'd ever treat me this way. Your career may have excused a missing date or two. But seven in a row? Sophia, we've gone on three total dates for the past four month's. And we had planned seventeen. Seven fucking teen Sophia. You stood me up fourteen times, and that's only for the past four months."

"I.. please I'm so—"

"So let's end this."

"...what?"

This felt so surreal. Y/n had just asked her if they could end it. Sophia had felt her whole world crumble. She caused this? Has she really broken down the one person who had supported her through everything?

"No.. no, no we aren't. Please, just give me a chance to—"

"No, Laforteza. Get out. We're over."

Sophia laughs, hoping this was some sort of wicked sick dream.

"We aren't over Y/n. Please, I just—"

"We've been over for the past seven months, Laforteza. What we've had for those last few months was just me trying to keep us both on the same page. But a relationship requires two people. We can't keep going if your heart isn't in it, Laforteza."

Sophia couldn't help it. Her tears had burst out like there was no tomorrow. The girl hadn't cried like this for a long, long time.

"But.. but I need you Y/n, please..." At this point, the Filipina had gotten on her knees.

"No, you don't. Hell, you don't even want me. You just think you do. So please, get up and leave, before I say things I don't think I can take back."

"I can't just leave!"

"Yes you can. Leave. For the both of us, Sophie." The mention of her nickname was driving Sophia crazy.

"But I fucking love you Y/n!" .

Y/n looks at Sophia with a tired face.

"Do you really?"

Sophia looks at Y/n. A look of desperation displayed on her pretty face. Y/n hates how she's never going to see that face ever again. Hates how she's never going to kiss that pretty face to sleep ever again. Hates how those soft and comforting arms will never comfort her ever again. Hates how she will never wake up next to the love of her life ever again. Hates how Sophia will never be hers ever again. But she was okay with that. She knew it had to end one way or another. It was better this way.

And so, after more back and forth conversations, Sophia reluctantly leaves. Sophia closes the door, and Y/n locks it right after.

Y/n will never open up her heart for Sophia ever again. And the latter knows that. They were over. They were really over. Neither could believe it. The two fall to their knees, on opposite sides of the door. The sound of heavy rain masking the others cries.

Guess rainy nights were never their thing.

#sophia laforteza #sophia laforteza x reader #sophia #katseye x fem reader #katseye x reader #katseye imagines #katseye x female reader #katseye #kkoga #no comfort

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iceghosto · 3 days ago

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Hey I’m hoping to be a comic artist but I’m having trouble figuring out how to start. What was your experience to getting where you are now? (Absolutely gorgeous art btw)

Hey! Well at the risk of sounding like a smart ass, the best way to start is to start drawing comics. Seriously though i mean that earnestly. I've found the best way to learn new things is dive right into them. Otherwise you spend a long time just practicing without actually making anything. Something i struggled with for a while. Like start with one page comics, then maybe try some 5-15 pages, then keep working up. My biggest regret about my comic journey is the 4 ish years i spent studying instead of actually making stuff. Comics is one of those mediums where you can read and study forever, but there are some things you can only learn by feeling it out. By making mistakes or stumbling into something that looks good. Itll be rough at first i did my first comics at 19 omg haha

My 2000's webcomic fan is showing. But if you push through it promise itll be worth it!

My experience was mostly doing autobio comics and small stuff for a longggggg time. I tried doing freelance stuff out of college and honestly failed hard my first time. The first paid comic gig i did ended with me broke, burnt out, and with nothing to show for it. But i go through it over a few years, started working back at it and eventually did a short little skateboard comic that i posted on twitter.

It got a surprising amount of traction and i got asked to do art for some indie comics. That led to It Took Luke and I've been getting work ever since. Now that is extremely lucky. Im not going to pretend otherwise. But its one of those things where the more you make and put out there, the more likely you are to get an opening. It took 8 years of making comics on my own before this happened, so its not a quick process and can be immensely frustrating, but one thing i love about comics is that theyre relatively easy to make. Even if i wasnt making them for work, id still be making comics in my freetime cause theyre so much. Anyway, wishing you the best of luck!! Hope this was helpful!

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practicalgauntlet · 2 days ago

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τότε μείνε μαζί μου

"Then stay with me."

Spencer's POV

Synopsis- They say there are 5 stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Well, I'd like to add one more- Revenge.

Category- Heavy angst, retribution

Warnings- feral Spencer, angry Spencer, grieving Spencer, beating someone half to death, blood and gore, thoughts of violence, actual violence, Spencer goes ape shit the way Hotch beat Foyet. Vivid details of someone's nose breaking, blood, lots and lots of blood, OOC, I paint a very graphic image of Spencer's snap.

Notes- I love writing angst, I don't know why I just hope you enjoy it. And I'll make good on my promise for something tooth-rottingly sweet, so don't get too angry with me <3 This goes out to @slipk-holy for helping me edit, you're the best!!!

Wordcount- 3,123

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Spencer sits in the middle of his apartment, his last words to your lifeless body still echoing throughout his otherwise empty mind.

"I'll wait for you my darling, you better be waiting for me on the other side."

Spencer was not a religious man. But when it came to you, he believed in miracles. He believed that someone out there plucked you from your divine path and placed you in his life. Spencer prayed to whoever had put you in his life to return you. He pleaded to hold you in his arms once more, but there was no answer.

He never believed in the afterlife. He thought of it as nothingness, a lack of consciousness where one ceases to exist on any plane. The idea of holding you, of seeing you once more clung to the fibers of his mind. It kept him from breaking entirely.

So maybe Spencer was a man of religion if only it meant you awaited him with open arms.

He hadn't moved in such a long time, his back aching from the upright and cross-legged position on his hardwood floors. Spencer lacked the motivation to crawl onto the couch or drag his body into the shower. He hadn't had the motivation to do anything really, other than replay the memories he held so dear to his heart.

But as he looked around his apartment, still teeming with the life you lived there, disdain rose up his throat like bile; burning a path through his body until he was boiling over with it.

Your most recent book was still open on the coffee table, the collection you brought with you still mixed with his on the massive bookshelf. Your slippers were still haphazardly strewn across the floor where you left them that morning, the echo of your halfhearted attempt to convince him to call in sick was still so fresh.

He felt something hot and putrid clawing its way out of him, singing every piece of skin and bone it touched on its way out. It was nasty, and vile, leaving a trail of change in its wake. Spencer could feel the mutation in his soul. He could feel the emptiness devour him whole, chewing on his bones for every last morsel he had to offer.

All that was left was a devastating rage. A fury that threatened the world around him. An indignation that promised singed handprints wherever he touched. A wrath so powerful he was no longer the man he was proud of. He was a stranger, an offensive mockery of what once was.

And the best part?

Spencer didn't care.

Spencer didn't care as he stood up and kicked the coffee table into the wall sending glass shattering all over the floor. He plucked the book out of the pile of carnage, not giving a shit about the splinters of glass embedded into his fingertips.

Spencer didn't care as he ripped the pages out of the book, hurling the empty hardback through the window. He watched with a sick satisfaction as the destruction sparkled around him.

Next was his bookshelf, the stories and words he'd share with you when the two of you couldn't sleep now flung across the room. The bookshelf was toppled, and not a care in the world was given as it crashed to the floor.

Spencer was a whirlwind of devastation, a tornado of obliteration so fierce there wasn't a corner nor cabinet that was untouched by rage.

Wherever you lingered, he destroyed. The chair you'd always sit at was slammed into the wall. The mug you favored was shattered against the floor. Every instance of your memory, of your ghost, was annihilated by his hand.

When he got to the bedroom, his chest heaving with firey vengeance, he paused.

Your side of the bed was still crinkled, the indention of your head imprinted on the pillow. Your Kindle was still charging on your nightstand. Your knickknacks and decorations still hung in every corner and on every shelf.

It was like you were just at the store and he should start dinner so it would be hot for when you got home. Like you were in the shower or on call. Anything but dead.

He couldn't tear apart the last remaining proof that you lived, that you had grasped his heart with your bare hands and allowed him the same privilege.

No, he couldn't bring himself to taint the preserved capsule of the life he shared with you with anger. Or sadness. Or the grief that left him raw and vulnerable. He couldn't even step one foot past the doorway.

He closed the door.

There was no use in even trying.

Before he could move on to the bathroom, the itch in his fist for more destruction too tempting for someone so usually non-violent, his phone rang somewhere in the apartment.

Spencer didn't feel like answering it or talking to someone about his wife and the chokehold her death has on him. He was perfectly content in watching his world crumble around him alone.

But it rang. And it rang. And it rang.

In a sudden burst of energy, Spencer marched right up to the source of the maddening noise. His mobile phone was neatly tucked into his satchel pocket, at fifty percent, just the way he left it after unceremoniously tossing the stupid fucking bag to the floor.

Spencer grabbed the phone in one hand and his heaviest lamp in the other. There was something so twisted about the relief that flooded him every time he brought the base of the lamp down on the phone.

His teammates would call it overkill if the phone was a person and the lamp was a knife. They would profile him as someone who was devolving, someone so close to snapping almost entirely that they had to act swiftly. In a way, he was. In a way, he was exactly like the monsters they hunted for the bloodlust that raged through him was for one thing only.

No amount of superficial destruction could keep his need for violence a bay. No, Spencer needed something organic to put his fists through. But for now, the insistent ringing of his phone has stopped, and he felt just a tad bit better.

Until his landline rang.

There was no breaking this phone, the technology old but surprisingly durable. So he only had one choice left if he were to save the last remaining shred of sanity he was clinging to.

"What the fuck is so important that you have to call me every six seconds?!"

He seethes, face hot with ire.

"Woah," J.J, breathes into the phone. "Calm down, Spence. I'm just calling to check up on you."

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry, Spen-. I'm sorry. I just needed to know you were okay."

Spencer was beyond annoyed, beyond aggravated. He could feel himself splitting at the seems with hatred and violence.

And Spencer didn't care if he was taking it out on his friend. Spencer stopped caring a long time ago.

"Oh, I'm fucking fantastic J.J. Just beaming with joy! It's not like my wife died not even twenty four hours ago. No, everything's happy unicorns and God damn rainbows."

J.J. just sighed.

"Spencer, I'm just trying to be there for you."

He could hear the desperation in her voice. But instead of comforting him like it should have, like it had done in the past, it irritated him even more.

"Sure, thanks."

Spencer was ready to hang up, ready to unplug the phone and toss it out of the broken window. But he heard something in the background, and his attention was once again drawn away from his agony.

It sounded as if someone were speaking to J.J., their tone urgent and dead serious. Spencer couldn't make out the words, but he could make out the importance of them.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. We're just having some problems with an unsub."

He knew exactly who she was talking about, knew why she was purposefully vague with him. And the second it all clicked, the second a plan swiftly formed in his head, he was dead set on a path.

"Okay... just- stop calling me for a while."

He played into the grieving husband shtick, not letting a drop of indignation seep through his voice. Arousing suspicion would nip his brilliant plan in the bud, and Spencer just couldn't have that.

J.J. was hesitant to agree, with her being an amazing friend and all, but ultimately relented. Spencer just needed space is all, at least that's what she told herself.

Spencer gently sat the receiver down, an eerie calm settling over him. It was a rage he'd never felt before, one that guaranteed an end. A retribution.

Revenge.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It was easy for Spencer to just walk into headquarters.

Too easy.

Maybe it was because of the pallor of his skin, or the dark bags that had become so much darker. Maybe it was even the shabby robe he still wore; his pajamas reeking of depression.

Either way, Spencer didn't linger for long. The faster he was in and out, the less suspicion he'd raise. The less suspicion he arose, the longer he'd have with his ultimate agenda.

It was calculated perfectly, executed just so. Swiftly enter the building, sadly waving to the guards all the while mumbling about friends, and help, and shoulders to cry on. Sympathy was so easy to wrangle, so easy to manipulate.

They let him in, their eyes downcast to avoid the miserable expression on his face. He should be upset at how easy it was to get in. There really should be more security. But then again, he didn't really care, did he?

He breezed passed the main office, passed the badge check, and into the elevator. Now would probably be the point where reality would hit. Was he really planning on interfering with an ongoing investigation, just to get answers he could deduce himself?

But none of that even registered as he watched the numbers slowly click up.

The lobby leading into the bullpen was empty, void of his friends or the others he knew only in passing. He was alone. The perfect environment to enable his downward spiral.

That collected calmness puppeteered him like a marionette, its hooked claws pulling the strings of his limbs towards the hallway that led to the interrogation rooms.

This is where he heard the commotion of the BAU in action. Hushed demands, muffled yelling, the occasional sigh of frustration. They hadn't noticed him yet, his socked feet concealing his footsteps.

He popped his head around the corner, watching as Hotch, Morgan, and Emily whisper to each other in front of the viewing window. J.J. and Rossi were sitting inside the room, their backs towards the window and their undivided attention upon Dimitri Cain.

Just the sight of the man had his blood boiling, his fingers twitching, and his throat closing around a violent burst of every emotion possible.

Anger- because his wife was dead and he was the man responsible.

Sadness- because he was reminded that he could never look upon the love of his life ever again.

Jealousy- because he wasn't the one in the room, demanding answers and getting them.

Joy- because he was closer to scratching that itch than he thought possible.

J.J. and Rossi exit the room, their faces grim and arms crossed with frustration. The five of them move away from the interrogation room.

"We need to form another plan,"

He heard Hotch say, his voice tight and stern.

The team agreed and left the door in the hands of a guard whilst they plotted. Now was the perfect time. He couldn't believe the luck he was having.

Maybe there was such a thing as the divine.

"You're not supposed to be here, Dr. Reid."

The guard said as Spencer approached.

"I was called in to help, you can ask Hotch but I doubt he'd enjoy being second-guessed."

"I just don't think-"

"Please..."

Spencer pleaded, and the tone he used was genuine this time. There was no manipulation nor tactic to persuade, only unadulterated desperation.

"I need something to do."

The words unsaid seemed to be as loud as those spoken, the guard's face falling with sympathy as he hesitated.

I need something to distract me.

Only a brief second did Spencer play with the idea of attacking the guard. He knew of all the pressure points to swiftly and quietly take him down; it wouldn't be hard to get what he needed.

But the guard stepped aside.

"Thank you."

The heavy door was opened.

Spencer stepped through, his body tingling with a blazing fire.

The door clicked shut.

He was alone with the object of his undoing. The breaker of his world. And there was nothing more dangerous than a desperate man with nothing to lose.

Spencer sat across from Dimirti, the man in question eyeing him with a speculating gaze.

"You're gettin' nothin' outta me."

Dimitri leaned back and blatantly challenged Spencer.

"I just have a few questions."

"Are you even a fuckin' fed? You look like shit."

Spencer unconsciously mimicked Dimirti's stance, staring the man down with an unbreaking mask of tranquil fury. He let his silence answer for him, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in the chair.

"Alright, I see how it is."

"And how is it, Dimitri?"

"It's that reverse psychology shit, not gonna work on me."

Spencer just shook his head.

"Just ask me the stupid fuckin' questions already so I can get this shit over with."

Spencer hummed, clasping his hands in front of him and leaning forward on his elbows.

"Why did you take her?"

"Again with this bitch-"

"Watch your fucking mouth."

Eyes wide, Dimitri stilled. Then, realization glided across his face. A slow smile spread, tainting Spencer with its wickedness.

"You're the husband."

It wasn't a question but a mere statement.

You got what you want, I have a husband-

Please! I don't want to die!

Spencer pounced like a lion, toppling the table with Dimitri still cuffed to it. He was lost in the rage, mind, and body willingly subject to the agonizing fury that was slowly becoming a shield.

He couldn't hear anything, not a thought registered. Only the broken screams of his wife as she pleaded to live.

Spencer straddled Dimitri, completly in control as the man beneath him writhed.

Something sick and twisted bloomed inside him with the first punch. With the second, that evil forged a bond with his soul. Once pure and golden, Spencer Reid was now as dark as the blood that seeped from Dimitri's nose.

On the third punch, Spencer could feel the cartilage break. The splintering of his knuckles was nothing but an afterthought to the satisfaction and relief that plagued him.

Dimitri wiggled under him, trying with all his might to kick him off or slide his hands out of the cuffs. But Spencer kept going.

He brought his fist down again, Dimitri's face already swollen beyond recognition. The deep burgundy of Dimitri's blood sprayed across Spencer's face, across his chest, and outward into the air.

Unbeknownst to Spencer, he was giddy. His face stretched in a feral grin, every tooth shining with glee as he continued to pummel Dimitri into the stained marble floor.

Someone was screaming, the ragged and unfamiliar sound muffled like it was underwater. His ears were ringing, adrenaline and undiluted grief pushing everything Spencer ever was deep into an iron box and tossing it down the hole you left in his heart.

It wasn't until he was ripped from Dimirti, that he realized he was the one screaming.

"You killed her!"

Spencer thrashed against the strong body behind him, the grip under his arms unmoving despite his best efforts.

"You killed my wife!"

Feebly, Spencer tried to continue the beating, swinging his long legs towards the motionless body lying on the floor. Something wet hit his face, the sensation shocking his senses back into the present.

Derek was behind him, growling his name like Spencer was a rogue unsub who refused to listen.

He was dragged out of the room, his limbs now hanging numbly at his sides. Cold metal was wrapped around his wrists before anyone even tried talking to him.

Spencer welcomed the bite, savoring the only thing he could feel.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Hotch was in his face, his eyes wide with frustration. The team was behind him, but Spencer didn't even spare them a glance. He just looked past Hotch, unseeing and unfeeling.

"Spencer!"

Finally, he dragged his emotionless gaze towards his boss who was frothing at the mouth with anger.

"I don't know."

"I don't know, I don't know? What do you mean, 'I don't know'? I should fire you!"

"Then do it."

What did he have to live for anyways?

A team that would only look at him with pity? A family that would treat him like he were made of glass, cracked and begging to be shattered.

Hotch huffed a sigh, hands on his hips.

"Listen, kid. I know exactly what you're going through. Vengeance isn't the answer."

"Says the man who did the same exact thing I just did. The only difference between you and me is that you got your retribution immediately."

Spencer hated the look of understanding that creased Hotch's brows, the empathy that threatened to undo all the apathy that was holding him together.

"This anger isn't going to bring her back..."

Spencer knew this. He knew nothing could bring you back. No amount of praying, religious devotion, and possible rituals would bring you back to him.

The simple truth was that he was lost without you.

He didn't know how to live without you by his side.

Something dripped onto his hands clasped in his lap. When he looked up and could see nothing but his swimming vision, he realized he was crying.

An unstoppable sob wracked his body, forcing his shoulders to cave in and his chest to implode. The damn was bursting, his walls cracking with each broken cry.

When he took a deep breath, a feeble attempt to control the crumbling mess that was his mental state, it all crashed around him.

His throat burned with the intensity of his scream. All his grief, all his anger, and sadness, and desolation were unleashed. He curled in on himself, hugging his sides as if he were able to replicate the feeling of your embrace.

The team surrounded him, hushed assurances, and murmured comfort as they all wrapped their arms around him. It still wasn't enough.

It still wasn't you.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

A/N- This was supposed to cure my writer's block, but it still has its claws in me. I keep comparing my writing and my stories to those I see on my feed and I only get discouraged. But comparison is the thief of joy, so please let me know if you enjoy this. Feedback is very much welcome in any form but I need to know if I'm doing something right.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #no use of y/n #angst #angst no comfort #dealing with grief #crashing out #canon typical violence #last part

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luvether · 3 days ago

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First of all I just want to say, Victoria hi hello, I hope this isn’t your first impression of me and secondly, this may or may not have become a textual analysis so...just like how this fic is lengthy (in a damn good way oh don’t get me started on this) my comments will be also long and detailed cuz you’re so damn insane for this fic.

Another note I read this at the very late hours of 1:50am, burned through this until 4:00am went to bed then when I got up i read from 12-1pm and i wish i had the ability to erase what i read from my mind and read it again because Vic you COOKED, i got so much things to say but the whole summary of it is that you cooked, so hard and so deliciously this night just me my favorite fic on tumblr.

And i’m slightly sad that long fics don’t get the same amount of love and treatment as others because this was honestly the best thing I’ve read in so long so fellas, please give this fic a chance if you have the time. I’m telling you right now, as a very picky writer and an even pickier reader (i did not enjoy cruel prince and fourth wing typa picky)

HANDS DOWN THIS WAS THE BEST READ I EVER GOT THE GRACE OF EVER WITNESSING WITH MY TWO EYES,

I wish i can conceal and stop my yapping right now to save my dignity but Vic, i’ll write down a whole ass lecture + essay for you for writing this heaven-sent aven fic.

1.) first and foremost, what i liked about this was the world building. THE WORLDBUILDING HAD ME HOOKED. I fear you ate with how you described the world, it did not feel overwhelming or draggy. I’ll list down some pirate-y words that i really liked because i wrote it down in my notes while reading this (i’m not pathetic i swear)

World-building is insane btw, every single detail and even terms i never really heard before like, cutlasses, perfume cloying nose, hull, pinafore aprons…this entire thing does not feel flat, in fact it’s extremely organic and i really like how you place so much details on building up this pirate-ish world (maybe im just way too fascinated because i’ve never consumed any media/books/movies that’s pirate related, not even pirates of the Caribbean or the third movie of Narnia where they were out in the sea, so i guess this is my first exposure to this theme in particular and i’m very much loving it so far) - Koue at the lovely hours of 2:45am

2.) JADE. that’s all. The way you write Jade….Lord in heaven give me this talent. Again, words below came from my notes last night,

Upon pushing the heavy door open, you’re greeted with the chime above tinkling at your arrival and the scent of heavy perfume cloying your nose.

As she approaches, you can pick up on her perfume of white florals and red wine.

but there’s an almost unnatural hiss to her words, not unlike that of a snake’s. Her voice is also vaguely snake-like too- the way certain words are stretched out, the weirdly sharp pronunciation of consonants clashing with the almost syrupy vowels that tempt you to lower your defenses, the lack of cadence- all make you unconsciously be on guard.

HO IS YOU MAGIC WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THIS WORDING /pos reading this at 1:50am and you had my jaw going slack, highlighting this specifically—certain words stretches out, weirdly sharp pronunciation of consonants clashing with the almost syrupy vowels that tempt you to lower your guard >>>

Oh my god the way you write Jade, i never really paid attention to her in game since i was on a hsr hiatus when she came out but reading your interpretation of her i can tell that you carefully thought of her characterization and its soo well done, all her dialogues are written so delicately & with so much thought and again, the paragraph above when you described how she says stuff, Vic are you a wizard? I really really like how you worded that, it’s literally my fave sentence TT

Also the follow up banter after that was so funny, the aven + reader dynamic piqued my interest eueu

By the way, is it bad to say that when i read your aventurine it kinda reminds me of Luka from alnst,, just a little bit at first,

3.) I’ll go in order but just gonna highlight some of my fave paragraphs from this fic:

LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE AVENTURINE. FROM START TO FINISH. this was also an epiphany because i never really wrote for him too, so this is my first aven exposure and it’s already my fave.

(lets the diamonds slip back into the chest through his fingers like fat, glistening raindrops - deserves to be framed on my wall respectfully.)

“Here. Keep these. You’ll look good in ‘em.”

“Then at least keep one or two of those gold chains as well,” you say as you clasp it shut around your neck. Aventurine shakes his head again, laughing snarkily.

“Nah. Not my taste. Not gaudy enough.”

“That’s what I said earli- wait, not gaudy enough?”

He meets your disbelieving expression with an innocent one and a shrug of his shoulders.

“What? A pirate captain’s gotta look the part. The more in-your-face, the better.”

Reader is everything haha, knows about medicine, carpentry, business talks, plays an instrument and a good yapper?? I wish I was this multi-talented.

Aventurine’s naming game isn’t half bad, love bby Doubloon and the ship Lady Luck, sounds very aven coded indeed.

“Do you… ever regret what happened that night?”

“No,” he admits without any hesitation. “I may have lost my vision, but I saved my pretty nurse who stitched me back together and fretted over me afterward, and that’s enough to make a man do anything. And… well… for my eyes, let’s just say I’d rather gouge them out most of the time.”

AVENTURINE. A.VEN.TU.RINE. that’s the type of flirty remark that would have me falling, like falling hard. This had me smiling and like, sniffling cuz it genuinely made me want to kick my pillows, i feel hot reading that, needed to fan myself before continuing.

Is aventurine like, those ghost pirates? Now i know why i mentioned that Aventurine reminds me of luka- he had those blue fingertips so i made an unconscious comparison. He’s definitely like that blue-piratey person from SpongeBob i forgot the term that they’re called ?

Just searched it up, but i was thinking about that pirate from the Flying Dutchman? it might not be, but that’s the first thing that came to my mind.

AVENTURINE SPOILING YOU, AVENTURINE SPOILING YOU, he’s getting attached and with reason. Love this kinda of mutualistic slow burn. I’ll be honest, I haven’t also read a proper Aven fic, this is my first and I’m glad that it is. It may be my standard of Aven characteristics from here on out.

Calling Aven’s hat ostentatious >> that’s a good word Vic

4.) I swear this is already all over the place…haha anyways, the fourth thing I wanted to point out was everyone else besides the one i already mentioned. Ratio and Topaz and Numby in particular, my god YOU DID THEM SO WELL. Despite this being an aven x reader fic I absolutely love—with my dying breath—that this isn’t just centered around them. Ratio had his few shares of screen times and I loved every single one of it, also with the moment of reader trying to recruit Topaz—it builds so much character!! ❤︎

Below are my spontaneous thoughts, again from my notes whilst I was live reading:

WE ARE RECRUITING VERITAS ARENT WE, I need to calm down and lessen my caps- just saw the word university and I’m sitting up from my bed. oh my god Ratio is gonna join 😭 😭 pls join you silly scholar, I’m so excited on how you’ll portray him, you did not disappoint with aven, jade and reader so far.

FINAL VICTOR MENTION !! the very iconic verivasha lc ❤︎

Okay,, he’s flushed. Am I interrupting something or what TT

You take in his ruby-rimmed golden eyes, the color of the sunset a few hours ago, that hold the weight of a genius’s expectations behind them.

The way you describe ratio’s eyes >>

Ship Navigator Veritas!! The role definitely suits him <33

Genuinely feels like I’m watching someone play a game, if that makes sense? The domesticity of having Ratio on board and him decorating his room, his mannerisms filling up the vibe within Lady Luck with Captain Aven and reader, feels like playing a game TT it’s the same feeling of when Sunday boards the express

You might hear me say this like a millions times, but you writing little details like reader explaining about adding lime juice on rum to make the water supply edible is such a masterpiece, again, a sucker for tiny details like that because it’s usually glossed over on storytelling and media most of the time, makes everything feel really in depth.

Also, is scurvy a normal thing when you’re out at sea? I didn’t do research but this is like the second time it was mentioned,

Ohh okay never mind, reader answered my rhetorical question

Ratio isn’t a drinker noted 😭 him chugging down water after is funny

Fourth member already?? It’s topaz for sure

Yup, it’s definitely topaz, briefly saw a part of her character story / maybe it was from that belobog quest where she came from a poor planet.

Also, love how this is not aven-centered. Like the moments with topaz and ratio grrrr

“That’s the Lady Luck for you! She’s a fickle one like her namesake. Sometimes, she’ll try and drown you just for spite. She keeps even me on my toes at all times and I’m her captain. Isn’t that right?”

LIVE LAUGH LOVE LADY LUCK I’M ALREADY SEVERELY ATTACHED TO IT

a kraken whose single tentacle was longer than your ship measured from prow to stern,

From prow to stern is wild, my fave line from this paragraphs

Topaz had nearly passed out from anxiousness the first time he’d bet her life alongside yours and Ratio’s not long after she’d joined, while Ratio had lifted Aventurine up by the collar and nearly thrown him overboard. It was only thanks to your intervention and pleading that your captain hadn’t met his end that day.

I LOVE THE IPC TRIO SO MUCH, their personalities shine and bloom soo much in this fic, I want to read more of their dynamic

“... There’s no storm that Veritas can’t lead us out of,” you quietly reassure. “No monster that Jelena can’t kill. No injury that I can’t heal.”

A hand sneaks out from beneath the covers to grasp his.

“And no captain better fit to lead us through the storm than you. So chin up, ok? We’ll make it out together on the other side surrounded by calm seas just fine.”

WHAT IF I CRY. WHAT THEN, IM SO ATTACHED AND I LOVE THIS SM. I’ve been quietly following you when you mention about this fic on the server and I’m soo glad I listened to the voices in my head and picked it up. I’m genuinely sad that I didn’t ask for a tag 😭 such a gem of a read.

He pouts, fins drooping. Boo. There goes a courting attempt out the window.

PLEASE THE WAY I STARTED LAUGHING. Puppy coded Aventurine is not something I find myself being fond of in the first few weeks of February but it is welcomed, he was written so well in this fic. ALSO THE DETAIL OF HIM WILLINGLY GIVING YOU HIS SCALES AND TEAR DROPS, get you a man that’s yearns so bad like Aventurine, he looks at you with expectant wide eyes while giving you literally pieces of himself that’s incredibly valuable. (Also find it hella endearing when reader plopped him back in the bath, like sobbing i was all over their dynamic from start to finish 😭)

There will come a day when the Lady Luck will complete her last voyage, Aventurine will have to return to the seas, and the crew will be disbanded, but that day isn’t today. It won’t be when he comes clean to the crew either. Rather, it’ll be in the far future when no amount of repairs can keep the Lady Luck from falling apart and you’re no longer able to handle the challenges of life at sea. But you’ll cross that bridge when you get there.

“So where to next, Captain?”

Banger last line, banger end paragraphs. You just single-handedly made me fall in love with Aventurine, Reader, Topaz, Ratio, Jade and Lady Luck in a span of 20k + words.

Even I didn’t feel this connection with an mc in a goddamn book.

Yup, that’s where my thoughts end. So to conclude everything and I feel like i’m just repeating words, Victoria the writer that you are, I would reread this a million times and not get bored. The world building is phenomenal, the way you structure your paragraphs, i have a bunched of highlighted sentences throughout this fic because the way you word things is so impressive. The way you characterize all the hsr characters is to die for, it’s characterized in a way that you can clearly see them acting like this canonically. the build up, the little details that makes this entire story so fleshed out, the sea-borne diseases, the looting and trading business shabang, the navigating beyond the seas.

This pirate AU was such a treat to read and if ever, you write this again, or not euue please tag me 🥹💌

— Yours sincerely, a sudden fan and surprisingly your mutual (idk how tf we are moots) Koue 🧸

hello, sailor!

SYNOPSIS: all aboard the lady luck and set sail for a new adventure! life on land doesn't satisfy you, so why not take to the seas instead? while working under captain aventurine as the primary nurse onboard, everything you've ever wanted is within your grasp, and yet the mystery surrounding your captain is still there, just short of being solved. just what kind of secrets lie hidden beneath that charming smile and silver tongue?

CHARACTERS: aventurine, topaz, ratio, jade, robin

TAGS: fem coded reader (wearing dresses, makeup, but they/them pronouns still used), mentions of drinking, gambling, harassment toward reader, drowning, numby is a regular piglet in this fic, 23.9k wc (get some snacks and a drink ready for this one), mild angst, some suggestiveness

NOTES: thought my aventurine kissery phase was over then hoyo uploaded the pirate art of him and now its back to square one

special thanks to my pookies @https-sourlimes and @tragedy-of-commons for proofreading this behemoth of a fic! with much love mwah 💋

very late but @lowkeyren hihihi ren!! I got u for secret santa and hope u enjoy this fic!

TAGLIST: @harque, @akutasoda, @hazyue, @gabile18, @khoncore, @moineauz, @mikashisus, @vxnuslogy, @papiliotao, @gl4di0lus

The rolling sea has always beckoned you.

It’s always been there, tucked away in the back of your mind, usually hidden but resurfacing like the corals and lost trinkets at low tide you’d go scavenging for when no one was looking. Conch shells hold the secrets of the ocean that enrapture you for hours on end and you drape yourself in weathered jewelry washed ashore. Dried-up starfish and seashells and multicolored sea glass litter your home, and yet it isn’t enough. These trinkets pile up and gather dust in your home as you chase after what you’re really after- a way out.

You’ve been surrounded by the sea your entire life, born and raised in this very port town. You grew up hearing stories of lands faraway from your parents and the workers down at the docks. Infamous pirates and honorable seamen alike and their journeys were your bedtime stories as a kid. You never see the same unfamiliar face twice in a place like this and perhaps it’s this ability to come and go as you please that captured your heart from a young age. Appearing and disappearing like an apparition with rumors of your conquests and the freedom a life at sea granted… it was enough to grab your attention as a kid and never let go.

And yet, you’ve never ventured into the open seas. The most you’ve done is swim around at the beach, but you’ve never been able to push further than that. Theoretically, you should’ve been able to leave long before now, but your plans never made it past the first step. You’ve been denied passage aboard ships at every turn for countless reasons, all of them stupider than the last. Eventually, your motivation died down until you resigned yourself to a dull life on land- but the dream never fizzled out completely. Even now, you still stroll along the beach and search for answers.

Down at the dock, you hear of sailors and pirates alike drunkenly telling tales of sirens and their bewitching songs they waged war against at sea. You wager that the sea’s freedom beckons to you the same way a siren’s song does to them- irresistible, enchanting, and inescapable no matter where you are.

When work is slow, you find yourself staring out at the sea through the window, just watching as the tides recede and crash onto the shoreline repeatedly. At night, you’d catch yourself at the beach with your feet in the sand and the salty waters lapping at your ankles without any recollection of how you got there. Maybe sleepwalking? But something tells you that’s not the answer.

But this time, you suddenly find yourself standing in waist-deep water, completely alone and without a sound to be heard. Not even the usual sound of squawking gulls circling overhead can be heard. That’s strange. The harbor is always busy, with goods being transported and people seeking asylum. There’s ships docked and as far as you can tell, it’s as normal of a day as any other. And yet, there’s no life to be seen or heard. No crabs scuttling along the sandy beach, no people strolling along the boardwalk, no shouts of street vendors peddling their wares to passersby. Just you, the sea, and its ever-growing temptation.

You think it’s somewhere around early evening from the position of the sun, but you aren’t sure how long you stare toward the horizon, unblinking. But when you do blink, you see a pirate ship coming into view. She’s quite possibly the most incredible ship you’ve ever seen in your life, with several sails, a sturdy hull, and a flag fluttering proudly atop the mainmast. And she’s heading right toward you. If you swim out further or wait where you are for a while longer, she’ll pass by, giving you the perfect opportunity to sneak onboard.

You look back one last time before heading further out to sea. You slip below the water. It’s pleasantly warm and you wonder why you’ve never attempted this before.

The siren’s embrace, that is the ocean’s form of freedom, is growing stronger.

Port towns aren’t known for being the safest, especially those frequented by pirates. Public drunken brawls, looting by particularly greedy pirate crews, lechery, and disturbance of the peace with the occasional count of public indecency, are commonplace almost every night. Usually, you’re able to avoid most of it, but today isn’t your lucky day.

“Hey, pretty lady! Mind comin’ home-”

Crash!

An empty beer bottle goes flying by, barely missing his head and shattering into bits against the brick wall behind him. He lets out an unusually high-pitched squeak for someone of his size and stares as you storm past, his mouth agape. Another sailor behind him laughs at his plight, to which he spins around and cusses toward his face. You make it out just in time as the first punch is thrown.

One drunken sailor is more than enough to deal with, you decide. You decide that you’ll take your chances and go past the port as a shortcut back home, even though it’s late.

It’s silent besides the sloshing of the waves and mostly empty. There’s some burly guards patrolling in front of the more ostentatious pirate ships that spare a glance as you hurry by, but it’s otherwise deserted at this hour.

Until you approach the end of the harbor where few ships are docked. You hear the faint sounds of a struggle- a punch being thrown, a man’s muffled scream, glass shattering, the wet squelch of a knife sinking into flesh, and the thud of a body hitting the ground. From the shadows, you see two people emerge. A blond man drags someone out by the hair with a knife in hand. Even from here, you can see the dark slick staining the wood. There’s a ship directly in front of him. You assume it belongs- or belonged- to the now-lifeless body being dragged along. The blond looks around, then freezes up upon seeing you. The hand holding the knife tenses at his side and the two of you stay locked in place like that for a bit, daring to see who will make the first move. Shockingly bright neon eyes meet yours and you jolt. You’ve never seen anyone with eyes like his.

But there’s a ship that’s still waiting. You recall that strange dream you had a few nights ago.

… On second thought, perhaps today is your lucky day after all.

You slowly clap, starting to move forward, and the blond steps back. The knife in his hands, now aimed at you, is a tiny thing. It’s rusted, the blade is most likely dull, and even the butter knife in your kitchen would laugh at it.

“Congrats on winning. Got any injuries you need patched up?”

No response. You try again.

“I see those injuries you got from that fight. Those wounds of yours won’t heal overnight. Someone has to be there to ensure they don’t get infected.”

“... You’re a nurse?”

His voice comes out smoother than expected. Amusement and snark drip from the words, thick as honey, like he can’t believe you’re a medical professional. And yet, you can hear the tenseness in his voice and see it in his coiled muscles, ready to spring back into action again.

You ignore the jab toward you and point toward the winding cobblestone streets that you came from. The sounds of a fight can be heard coming from the town square even out here.

“Run a practice in town. Certified and everything if you’re real nitpicky and care about my credentials. Though most sailors that come through the door could care less when they’ve got a pretty lady lookin’ over ‘em and are used to amputations for the most minor of infections.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t been snatched up by another pirate crew yet then,” he smugly remarks, voice as smooth as velvet yet concealing a sharp edge.

“Oh, there’ve been attempts alright. Promises of double the booty a normal seaman would receive, the finest quarters second only to the captain, medical supplies taking utmost priority when docking, and many many more. Hah! All nice and cute, but we know that in a few months time, all those promises will have fallen out the window and I’ll be regarded with no less respect than the lowliest seaman onboard.”

He leans back against a wooden post, roughly kicking the man from earlier until his bleeding head is submerged underwater. You spare a glance at the poor soul before looking back at him.

“Got a ship now?”

“... It’s not much, but it’s something to start with.”

He looks behind him and as he does so, the sleeves of his rags shift to reveal the injuries lying beneath. A sharp intake of breath is the only sign you’ve seen them, but his keen ears pick up on it. He tugs his sleeves down and glowers over his shoulder in your direction.

“You don’t have any medical expertise, do you?” you ask, ignoring his irritation. “Not a good idea to go out conquerin’ the seven seas without a nurse on board. Matter of fact, I doubt you’d even get that far. Probably die off from scurvy or something preventable.”

His silence speaks volumes. You brush past him and set foot onto his stolen ship- little more than a glorified rowboat with a mast and a single sail. It couldn’t even be called a sailboat.

Still, he won’t go down so easily. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and stares you down behind his thick bangs obscuring his vision.

“And why should I welcome you aboard?”

“Simple. We both get what we want.”

You reach your hand out to him.

“You get a trained, qualified medical professional to treat your wounds, and I get to escape this rinky-dink, backwater port town. A mutually beneficial deal, don’t you agree?”

He racks his mind for an excuse, anything, really, to turn you down. But he can’t come up with anything. The wounds all over his body really do need treatment that he doesn’t have the expertise for. There’s enough room for two people in the boat and he knows you’re smart enough to have realized that by now.

It’s fine. I’ll just dump them off at the next port and be on my way. Problem solved.

With no excuse that can fly under your radar, he pushes his irritation down and forces a smile onto his face. He reaches a hand out and it’s just now you notice his ghostly blue fingertips.

… He’s not entirely human, is he?

“Your name?”

“(Name).”

“Welcome aboard, Nurse (Name).”

You brush your thoughts aside and shake his hand. It’s cold.

“Pleasure, Captain…?”

“Aventurine.”

You squeeze his hand firmly one last time.

“Pleasure to be working with you, Captain Aventurine.”

Captain, huh? He tries the title on for size in his mind as you get settled in, rolling it around on his tongue.

I could get used to being called that.

Even though he initially promised himself that he’d kick you out at the next port, that never happens. You pass by several ports, and yet you stay onboard. Perhaps it’s because he finds his first treasure alongside you on an island that many have sailed past countless times. The treasure was hiding under everyone’s noses the entire time, both of you managing to uncover it with a bit of wit and a hefty amount of luck. Aventurine supposes part of himself feels indebted to you, much as he hates the sensation. You found your first treasures together and you’ve admittedly been taking good care of his wounds born from years of enslavement. The healing process is coming along slowly but steadily.

Perhaps he’ll let you stay for a bit longer. Until you get your share of this treasure. He gives credit where credit is due, at least.

“I can’t believe this has been here this whole time,” you say as the treasure chest is finally unearthed. Aventurine sets the shovel down, and on the count of three, you lift it out to go through its contents. It’s no sizable amount of loot by any means, but it’s not half-bad for your first haul. Some gemstones that are admittedly rather small, jewelry, a few rusted cutlasses that with some elbow grease, could be restored to their former state, and some golden coins from a bygone era.

You hold some gold chains up in front of him, as if seeing what he’d look like with them on. He casts a glance down and shakes his head in disapproval.

“I know, too gaudy, right?” you ask as you set them back into the chest. He holds up a handful of uncut diamonds, all of varying sizes, and watches as they twinkle in the sunlight. “At least we can pawn ‘em off.”

“I know someone who can fetch us a good price for them. You won’t have to worry about that,” he responds as he lets the diamonds slip back into the chest through his fingers like fat, glistening raindrops. Diamonds are almost worthless on their own, but if he sends them to a jeweler to be cut and polished and perhaps turned into jewelry, then perhaps he can squeeze out a bit of value from them… Or perhaps he should just leave them the way they are, given her hobby for finding true gems in the rough.

He finds a string of pearls and after a moment for inspection, tosses them over to you.

“Here. Keep these. You’ll look good in ‘em.”

“Then at least keep one or two of those gold chains as well,” you say as you clasp it shut around your neck. Aventurine shakes his head again, laughing snarkily.

“Nah. Not my taste. Not gaudy enough.”

“That’s what I said earli- wait, not gaudy enough?”

He meets your disbelieving expression with an innocent one and a shrug of his shoulders.

“What? A pirate captain’s gotta look the part. The more in-your-face, the better.”

There’s someone already waiting for you when you return to land to pawn off your treasure. According to Aventurine, she owns one of the most prosperous pawn shop chains out there and always fetches a fair price for her customers, so long as they have something equally valuable to give her in return.

“Just remember to always address her as ‘Lady Bonajade’ and nothing else. She doesn’t take too kindly to those who don’t have manners,” he whispers to you as you weave your way between the crowded streets to the pawn shop’s address.

“Sounds like an interesting person,” you whisper back. “Should I be scared?”

He scoffs. “Not unless you’re looking to trade something beyond our treasure. Just don’t say anything rash. Let me handle it.”

The pawn shop is tucked away in a corner of town that sees few people. The exterior is surprisingly well-maintained for this part of town and a sign reading “Bonajade Exchange” in elegant violet cursive lettering hangs above the door. You can’t see into the shop’s windows and you can’t hear any activity from inside either. Upon pushing the heavy door open, you’re greeted with the chime above tinkling at your arrival and the scent of heavy perfume cloying your nose. It smells heavily of florals and incense, with a hint of smoke present. The candle flames waver and flicker as the door shuts and you take a moment to look around the shop. The heavy velvet curtains across the windows are drawn, letting only a small sliver of sunlight in. The only other source of lighting is the candles scattered throughout that illuminate the treasures displayed almost carelessly throughout the store. Polished and cut gemstones lie in display cases alongside gold bars and jewelry. Weapons of all sorts are hung along the walls alongside maps and thick, aged atlases on the bookshelves. It’s silent, save for the faint crackling of waxen flames, until an unfamiliar and elegant voice rings out from behind the curtain all the way in the back.

“Welcome to Bonajade Exchange. Who are you? And what do you seek?”

There’s a moment of silence that follows, as if the speaker has recognized who you are. A candle is lit behind the curtain and you can make out the silhouette of a woman rising to her feet.

“Oh, it’s you. We meet again, Aventurine.”

There’s a smile in her voice as she brushes the curtain aside and you get your first look at the owner of the shop. A wide-brimmed black hat obscures half of her face with a pale blue eye peeking out at you. She wears a white dress that’s undoubtedly made of silk or some other costly fabric with a dark blue corset. The silver and jade jewelry she wears (is that where she gets her name from?) clink pleasantly against each other alongside her heels, accompanied by a walking stick clicking against the wooden floor as she walks. As she approaches, you can pick up on her perfume of white florals and red wine.

She comes to a stop and her eyes rake over you both, lingering on you especially. You catch a hint of something in her slitted pupils, like she knows something you don’t.

“I haven’t seen you before. I’m Lady Jade, the owner of this place. Are you a first-time customer to the Bonajade Exchange?”

Her voice is low and almost a whisper that has you hanging onto her every word. It’s as smooth as the silk used for her dress but there’s an almost unnatural hiss to her words, not unlike that of a snake’s. Her voice is also vaguely snake-like too- the way certain words are stretched out, the weirdly sharp pronunciation of consonants clashing with the almost syrupy vowels that tempt you to lower your defenses, the lack of cadence- all make you unconsciously be on guard. Under her chilling gaze, you feel yourself strangely clamming up and it’s all you can do to nod mutely. She hums and leans in closer, examining you head to toe. You feel like an item being offered up for auction yourself right now…

“And who might you be, lovely lady?”

You’re surrounded by ice.

“Nurse (Name)... Lady Bonajade,” you say, hurriedly adding her title at the end after remembering Aventurine’s advice from earlier. She smiles approvingly, a cold and benevolent thing.

“You’re a good child who knows their manners. Alas, the same couldn’t be said for the man next to you when I first-”

Aventurine coughs. Jade stops talking, but the mirth still lingers in her eyes. A purple snake appears out of seemingly nowhere, winding around her shoulders and up her forearm before rearing its head at you. Its tongue flicks out to taste the air and it leans toward you before she gently pushes its head back.

“Don’t mind it. It’s too curious for its own good at times,” she says offhandedly. Her baby blue irises drift toward the plain wooden crate sitting behind Aventurine and the beginnings of a smirk tug at the corners of her glossy lips.

“Have you brought something valuable for me?”

Aventurine beckons you over and after a bit of effort, you pry open the lid to reveal the contents of the treasure you found. Jade strides forward and stops before the crate, examining it with interest.

“Look at that, you’ve finally found your first treasure. Where was it found?”

She raises an eyebrow and a hint of skepticism crosses her expression when Aventurine tells her the spot.

“That island has been combed through countless times by other pirates. I find your claim hard to believe.”

Atlases and ancient records are brought out and she finally seems to believe him after cross-referencing the embossing on the back of a coin with a legend from that island. Just as you think you’re starting to get a grasp of the situation, a flurry of financial terms fly over your head as they argue over the market value of the items and how much cash you can walk away with today.

… You’re way out of your comfort zone now. You’re a nurse, not a businessperson, for Aeon’s sake!

An agreement seems to be reached between the two of them. Jade readjusts her gloves and after calling some men over from the back, they begin going through the treasures and separating them into piles. Meanwhile, Aventurine turns his attention back to you.

“Fifty-fifty split.” You make the first move.

Aventurine scoffs. “Absolutely not. Eighty-twenty at least.”

“Who do you think you are?”

“The captain, of cour-”

“Self-proclaimed,” you retort. “Doesn’t bear much weight with only a crew of two and each of us handling the work of at least five men. Seventy-thirty split since you want to be stingy.”

“Still too little.”

Your eyes narrow in irritation while his smug smirk never wavers.

“Seventy five-twenty five.”

“Fifty five-forty five.”

“Is that really any different from your initial offer of a fifty-fifty split?”

“That’s a five percent increase.”

“Yeah, only five percent.”

Jade chuckles from where she leans against the counter. The treasure has been fully cleared out and taken elsewhere. All that remains is an empty crate on the ground.

“A five percent increase isn’t as narrow of a margin as you would think it is. Right now, that might not seem like much, but in the future when you start discovering more valuable and rarer treasures…”

She yawns and covers her mouth with a delicate hand.

“Who knows? You could be looking at a gain of at least a couple thousand.”

Aventurine clicks his tongue and turns back to you. There’s one last offer you have before you give up and walk away. A new life in this town for the time being doesn’t seem too bad…

“Sixty-forty.”

He stills at your offer. Jade’s eyes are trained on him as she lightly fans herself with a feathered folding fan. Her snake watches the exchange with seemingly keen interest too.

“... You drive a hard bargain just like Lady Bonajade over here,” he grumbles as he forks over a portion of the credits to you. He leaves part of it on the counter, though.

“You have an innate sense for business,” comments Jade, as you leaf through the wad of bills. “Perhaps you’d like to refine it to its fullest potential?”

“Lady Bonajade, please stop trying to recruit every promising person that walks through your door.”

“It’s not just anyone I set my eyes on. It’s only those with exceptional talent that shine like gems in the rough,” she corrects. Her gaze flicks over to you again.

“Should you ever grow tired of a life at sea and wish to attain everything you desire… you know where to find me. I have branches all over the seven seas. I’ll be patiently waiting.”

Aventurine hurriedly hands you the stack of credits he set aside earlier.

“We’re running low on supplies. I still have business to discuss with her, so why don’t you go and pick them up for me?”

You nod and leave. The door shuts behind you, and Jade’s welcoming demeanor immediately disappears as soon as the shop is plunged into darkness again. Even though the climate is temperate in this stretch of the ocean, the temperature drops considerably. Her snake comes out of hiding and openly hisses at him. This time, she does nothing to reprimand it.

“I see you’re planning to let a considerable asset go. My best advice for you would be to not.”

Aventurine barks out a laugh and meets her cold tone with one of his own.

“Meddling in my affairs, you damned sea witch-“

“You would do well to learn some manners from them, child,” she all but snaps. “Remember, I don’t give out advice for free. When I do, it’s because I see a great return of my investment in you on the horizon. It would be in your best interest to listen.”

She hisses the last word out and her pet snake does the same. Aventurine’s heart is racing, but he shows no sign of it.

“A businesswoman through and through,” he remarks dryly. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you called them an asset.”

“Oh? As if you see them any better than I do. At least I recognize their value. You, on the other hand, have seen them as a nuisance this whole time.”

She sighs. “Such potential headed straight to ruin under your care. It’s quite a waste. Perhaps I should take them under my wing instead, the same way I did with you… Better yet, why don’t I put them through the same refinement process the way I did with you? It’ll be a valuable learning experience for you both.”

Aventurine bristles, and Jade smirks, knowing she has the upper hand now. He’s reminded that just like that, Jade can take away everything he’s fought for. And shape the rest of your life to what she has envisioned.

“You will have them remain as a crewmate upon your ship. Don’t think I’m unaware of how your wounds are coming along. This is in your best interest as much as it is mine. Understood?”

He numbly nods. Jade hums happily and pats him on the shoulder.

“Good child. I expect even greater things from the two of you combined.”

There’s a knock at the front and the door swings open. The sudden brightness of the sun makes him squint, but he can see you standing there with several boxes behind you and some burly men carrying them.

“Captain, I picked up all our supplies. Is there anything else you need me to handle?”

“No, tell them to take them back to the ship. Wait there. I’m almost finished here.”

You nod and the door closes again. Jade turns to him with a knowing look in her eyes as she pulls away from the counter to head to the back again.

“Captain,” she repeats with a teasing lilt.

“Stop that,” he grumbles. She checks the time and barely spares him a glance over her shoulder as she retreats behind the curtain again.

“The time for conversation has ended. Go now. It isn’t polite to keep your partners waiting for any longer than necessary.”

Just as he’s about to head out the door, he’s stopped by her again.

“Don’t disappoint me now, child.”

The only response she gets is the door slamming shut.

He finds you waiting by the ship as instructed. You don’t even get the chance to ask him what happened as he pushes past you roughly and hoists the sails. Wordlessly, you weigh the anchor and as you set sail, Aventurine finds himself more thankful than ever for your ability to read the room.

Yes, he barely tolerates you. He never wanted a second person aboard to begin with. But anything is better than catching Jade’s attention. From personal experience, it takes a very special kind of person to stay one move ahead in her games and he knows you aren’t cut from that cloth. Most people aren’t. You’d maybe hold out for a bit with your hidden wit, but you’d inevitably be offered up as a loan in her many dealings, getting passed around from ship to ship as a highly sought-after medic until you’d work yourself into an early grave. Only then would she lose interest and only because your market value would be at zero.

His injuries have been healing nicely, but he still needs your care. He makes up his mind to let you stay on his ship for the time being. At least until Jade’s interest in you has died out or until his injuries are completely healed. Whichever one comes first.

And that initial condition is forgotten about too. Jade’s interest in you never wanes and his scars have faded, but that’s not the reason why he lets you stay. You’re quite the handy person, proving yourself to be skilled in tasks outside of medicine. You surprise him with your skill in carpentry and business, although he already knows about the latter thanks to Jade. He’s a horrible cook, but you manage to save yourselves from starvation with your talent in the kitchen.

Aventurine begrudgingly admits that you’re also fun to be around as time goes on. You’re quite the charming storyteller with a never-ending trove of stories to share. Many of your nights are shared together under the starry skies with a tankard of rum in hand as he listens to your animated and slightly slurred narration of stories you penned earlier that day, or accounts about your former life in a port town and the… interesting experiences you’ve had.

“Interesting” is putting things lightly, he decides one night after you described how you chased off some unsavory pirates looking to rob your office of valuable medical supplies with a saw and a kitchen knife. And chased off? More like scared half to death.

He also learns that you’re musically gifted as well. He’s off pawning off your latest treasures while you wander around after gathering necessary supplies as per usual. You had agreed to meet back on the ship but he instead finds you standing in front of a music store, eyeing the instruments they have on display in the window.

“You play?” he asks as he approaches your side.

“Yeah,” you respond without taking your eyes off the window. “Was how I made money before I became a certified nurse. I’d take a gig every night at the local tavern and see how much money a crowd of drunk men was willing to throw at me.”

“And?”

“You’d be surprised. If there’s one thing pirates are good at, it’s getting drunk and throwing their earnings at the first pretty thing they see after months at sea.”

“Do you still want to play?”

You tear your eyes away from the display to meet his gaze for a second, before looking away again.

“... Part of me misses it. Just a bit.”

“...”

You leave the store with a skip in your step and the nicest violin they had for sale in your hands, courtesy of your captain. Music now drifts through the ship and sometimes you’ll perform what you’ve been practicing for him after dinner. He’ll clap along, but you notice he never sings or even hums along…

You have company now as well. Long after you’ve weighed the anchor, you discover a stowaway onboard in the form of a black cat tearing through your food stockpiles.

“You thief!” you exclaim as you lift it by the scruff and hold it up to eye level. It’s tiny… is it a kitten or just malnourished? It meows pitifully and licks the finger you extend after cautiously sniffing it, a little sliver of pink peeking out and scraping against your skin.

The poor thing is… kind of… cute.

“Oh? What’s this?” comes an irritatingly familiar voice behind you. You spin around to see the familiar visage of your captain smiling down at the cat in your hands with amusement. “A stowaway, eh?”

“I caught this little thief digging through our rations. Captain, what do you suggest we do?”

He raises his eyebrows in feigned shock. A hand comes up to stroke his chin as he thinks.

“A heinous crime,” he proclaims with drama dripping from his words. “A fitting punishment for a crime is needed.”

“Your verdict?”

“The cat can put itself to good use by staying aboard our ship and hunting down mice. Cats are also a symbol of good luck on ships, you know.”

Without further ado, he swoops in and snatches the cat out of your hands. It purrs loudly as he strokes its cheeks.

Didn’t take much convincing for him to fold, you think as you scratch its chin. It closes its eyes and its ears twitch.

“Shouldn’t we give it a name? Captain, any suggestions?”

A big mistake on your part.

“How does the name Doubloon sound?”

“... Doubloon?”

Aventurine sets the cat down and tosses a gold coin out there. The cat immediately goes running after it, green eyes wide and pupils dilated. It pounces on the coin and tussles with it, biting on the metal like its prey.

“Never mind. It’s fitting. Doubloon it is.”

It’s nice, he admits. He has a handy crewmate who is capable of all sorts of tasks and can deal with his antics, surprisingly. He decides to let you stay aboard indefinitely now. And the cat is a nice bonus too.

Your captain isn’t half-bad company either. He’s still just as annoying as the day you met him, even more so if possible since you’ve gotten to know him. He’s an insufferable flirt, mainly toward you, but also toward others when he wants something. He’ll whisper teasing remarks in your (their) ears, all meant to get under your skin and have you (them) right where he wants. Teasing kisses on your (their) hands and cheeks are commonplace. (Who does he see when he kisses and charms those around him? You or them?) He has a raging gambling addiction, perfectly demonstrated by how he splurged on a poker table and a roulette wheel after only a few discovered treasures. (It doesn’t help how you keep losing every time he challenges you for a round or two.) He never opens up about his past even though you’ve all but spilled your life story to him, from childhood till now. He’ll do as he pleases without warning you beforehand, giving you a scare when he decides to bet his life at a casino or venture deeper than he should into a jungle on a hunch that “there’s more hidden treasure to be found just ahead!”

(You later scold him for his suicidal tendencies while bandaging his wounds with more force than necessary, reminding him that you can hold your own in a fight too! Newly acquired treasure sits just outside the door to the infirmary and he’s beaming all the while, so any hope of changing his mind fizzles out.)

But for all his shortcomings, he makes for a good captain. When confronted by a much larger pirate crew that thinks you’re easy pickings, he first pushes you to safety before diving in headfirst. He distributes treasure fairly and recognizes the value you hold as a medic, always ensuring you have more than enough allotted credits to restock on medicine at every port town. You never find yourself wanting for anything and your days are peaceful. You can sleep in as late as you want and you always have plenty to eat and drink. The ship’s supply of alcohol is always well-stocked with your favorites. You’re richer than ever before and money is of no worry to you now.

The ship also gets several upgrades. After every successful treasure hunt, she gets renovated and upgraded. More masts, an additional sail, a shiny new hull, until there was nothing left of its original structure. Aventurine now commands a true beauty of a ship, one fit for a pirate crew… and perhaps one a bit too big for her measly crew. Most of the ship’s space remains empty. But your quarters are spacious, even bigger than your old room on land. It’s filled with trinkets you’ve collected on your journey and fluffy pillows, and directly connected to the infirmary through a door to make things easy. Even a doctor on land would be envious of the conditions, with plenty of medicine stockpiled and clean from floor to ceiling.

“Shouldn’t we give her a name?” you ask as you set sail the day the last of her original foundation is stripped away. He hums and nods.

“You’re right. Got any ideas?”

“You’re the captain of this ship. You should be the one to decide, not me.”

Aventurine strokes his chin and thinks for a bit.

“How about the Lady Luck?”

“... Seriously? You picked something gambling related?”

He lazily shrugs and grins.

“I’m a gambling man through and through, darling. What else were you expecting from the likes of me?”

A single multicolored eye greets you as he tosses and flicks the poker chip he stole a while ago back and forth. The other eye is obscured by a bejeweled eyepatch and you’re the only one who knows the reason why.

During your first clash against another pirate crew, Aventurine had shielded you from an attack and potentially saved your life. Unfortunately, he couldn’t move away in time and took a knife to the eye. You had worked tirelessly around the clock that night to save his vision, but you weren’t able to. It’s a regret you carry with you at all times now.

“You’re right,” he agrees. When he notices you staring at his eyepatch, he grins.

“Still thinking about old times? Let bygones be bygones now, (Name),” he jokes as he lifts the eyepatch up, revealing the cloudy iris that indicates his vision loss. His words don’t have the intended effect though, and you wordlessly trail your finger down the scar cutting cleanly through the center of his brow bone to his cheekbone. He tenses a bit at the contact, but relaxes at your gentle touch after a few moments.

“Do you… ever regret what happened that night?”

“I won’t let you,” you state bluntly and it’s the way you say it that makes Aventurine laugh.

“Of course you wouldn’t, sweetheart. You’re my voice of reason.”

“But why? Do you not like them?”

Aventurine struggles to find the words for once and he makes a face like he’s tasted something bitter.

“… Not particularly,” he admits. There’s a scowl on his face. “They’re unnatural. Don’t tell me you’ve met another person with eyes like mine?”

“Well, that’s true, but-”

Venom creeps into his voice and his scowl deepens.

“There’s so many rumors swirling out there now. Haven’t you heard?”

“No,” you answer truthfully. Aventurine hopes you never hear any of the horrible rumors surrounding him.

You sigh and push his bangs out the way of his good eye.

“I think they’re quite pretty, actually.”

It’s supposed to be an innocent compliment. They really are pretty. Like the colors of a winter sunset, but more intense.

But to your surprise, your captain flinches at your touch and it sends a shock wave of guilt through you. He never shies away from your touch, instead always seeking it out like a spoiled house cat.

To make matters worse, he gets up and leaves. But before he does, you glimpse the expression in his eyes- guilty and defensive, like a wounded animal. The door to his quarters slams shut behind him and all you can do is stand there, frozen with shock.

“What pretty eyes. Tell me, do they shine in the dark?”

Aventurine leans against his bedroom door and quietly groans. He knows you meant it as a genuine compliment and that it was wrong of him to react the way he did, but he can’t help but wonder if you’d still think of him the same way if you knew about the story behind his eyes. Would you think of him any less? Aventurine doesn’t think he’d be able to bear it if he ever saw you look at him with hate and disgust. Or even worse, if you’d end up like everyone else, waiting for the day those eyes grew dull and lifeless.

… He’d gouge his eyes out and walk the plank if that ever happens.

He can’t stop himself from spiraling until he hears a knock at his door.

“Captain?”

He quietly laughs. You always did have a knack for showing up at the perfect time.

The door cracks open, and he sees you standing there with a worried and guilty expression. It makes him feel even worse. It’s not your fault. You wouldn’t have known because he never told you, and he was hoping it’d stay that way, but it looks like he won’t be able to take the coward’s way out on this one.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t realize my words would affect you that much.”

“It’s alright. I know you meant it as a compliment. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

You narrow your eyes at him in confusion.

“Then why…?”

Aventurine lets out a resigned sigh and steps out onto the deck again, suddenly finding his quarters stuffy.

“It’s a long story. But would you like to hear?”

“I have plenty of time.”

Sitting side by side on the deck that night, he tells you everything about his past that he’s willing to reveal. Some parts have a clever twist that hides the truth while others have been outright omitted. But it’s the closest version of his backstory that he can share without coming clean, and he’s not ready for that- not yet, at least.

“I’ve failed in this aspect of being captain,” he admits as silence blankets the air after his story. “I’ve been keeping too many secrets from you.”

“Captain, everyone’s got their own skeletons in their closets. I know and trust you well enough by now to understand that if you’ve been keeping something secret from me, it’s because you’re not ready to share it, and I respect that.”

You sigh and look up at the stars overhead. It’s a perfectly clear night with mild winds and calm seas.

“… It’s just that one day, I do wish you’d open up more. We’ve been with each other since day one and I’ve told you everything there is to know about me. It would be nice to know a bit more about you.”

He swallows nervously.

“And what if doing so makes me a bad person?”

You fix him with that stare that makes his spine tingle uncomfortably. It’s the look you give him whenever you suspect he’s lying during checkups and you’re prying for the real answer.

“… Well, we’re pirates after all. We’re not exactly good people, are we?”

He can’t help the laugh of relief that escapes him.

“Yeah, you’re right. We aren’t.”

Aventurine also likes to… spoil you, to put it lightly. As your finds become more valuable, the amount of credits he spends on you grows. Clothes are a common gift. Thin silks that feel like you’re wearing nothing, plush furs to drape yourself in, heavy down-stuffed winter coats for ventures up north, and frilly dresses that are a better fit for royalty in your eyes are all sent your way. It’s not an uncommon sight to return to the ship and see several men struggling under the weight of all his purchases while you were busy restocking. It gets to a point where you tell him to stop because your closet is overflowing, but he never listens. “It’s the least you deserve,” is what he always says. “Anything for my beloved nurse that has stuck with me through thick and thin!” At least half of the space in your formerly spacious quarters is now occupied by overflow from your closet.

You also get an upgrade to your uniform around this time. Before, it was whatever you had lying around, but now you have a dedicated set of dresses and pinafore aprons, as well as a nurse’s cap to top it all off.

Cosmetics are also another common gift. He’ll constantly gift you lipsticks with the request to try them all on or expensive perfumes he knows you’ll like. He even gets you an elaborate vanity at one point to store everything. It’s a beautiful, heavy thing made from bronze and requires the strength of four men to carry. There’s a large mirror in the center with ornate molding surrounding it and two smaller ones flanking it. You’ll often see Aventurine leaning against the doorframe through one of them, watching you with a bemused look as you get ready in the morning.

(That is, until you begin throwing pillows at his head and yelling at him to get out.)

But you begin to notice some strange things about your captain as time goes on. You’ll struggle with a chunk of meat during dinner while his unnaturally sharp teeth will tear through it with ease. They’re especially noticeable whenever he smiles, genuine or not. The large, sharp canines gleam under the sun. At one point, you asked if he purposefully sharpens them, partially as a joke, but also out of genuine curiosity. He had thrown his head back and laughed, but he didn’t answer your question. Sometimes, late at night when he thinks you’re asleep, you’ll peek out from behind the door and see the ghostly fire dancing around his blue fingertips. Aventurine’s outfits get progressively more gaudy and flashy as time goes on, and one thing he adds to his wardrobe rotation are metal nail guards. But even so, you notice his fingernails peeking out from underneath that are better described as claws. Heavy gold chokers and necklaces stacked on top of each other are an obligatory part of his look but on the rare occasion he decides to ditch the weight and opts for a high-collared linen shirt instead, you swear those are scales you see peeking out beneath the slipping collar after a long day.

But you merely look the other way. As long as Aventurine remains a good captain, you don’t care who- or what- he is.

It’s around this time you get the third addition to the crew as well.

You’re docked at a pristine port town, which is a rarity to come by. White houses with blue roofs line the cliff sides. The streets are white too and the stone used to form them has been worn down and smoothed out by years of wear and tear. The warm air smells sweet and salty and vaguely of hay. In the town square, it transforms into something heavier and richer. The flowering trees blooming throughout make the air feel almost thick, while the persistent smell of sunbaked herbs and the local cuisine follow you everywhere from the restaurants and food stalls.

Aventurine is pawning off your latest finds at yet another Bonajade Exchange branch (??? Seriously, how many branches does this pawn shop have?) while you’re enjoying yourself in the town square, having already picked up on supplies and sent them back to the ship. The town comes to life at night. There’s a live band playing on a stage set up a few minutes prior with people dancing and drinks being passed around openly even though you’re in the middle of the town square and not in a tavern. You indulge a little, but eventually decide you’ve had enough for the night after a few too many men were too insistent on buying you a drink even after you’ve declined their offers.

The rocking motion of the ship would make most people nauseous, especially someone that just had a few drinks, but you’ve long since gotten used to being at sea. Solid ground underfoot feels unfamiliar now and you let out a content sigh once you’re finally back in your quarters. You get settled in for the night as you wait for your captain to return and proudly show off his earnings from a night of gambling, like he always does. A candle is lit, filling your space with warmth and light as you resume reading a book that Aventurine had picked up for you earlier today.

You’re not sure how long you read for, but when you next look up, you’re shocked at how dark it is outside. A quick glance at your candle that’s almost burnt-out on the nightstand tells you it’s been at least a few hours- and yet, no sight or sound of your captain onboard. It’s silent, save for the sloshing of the waves against the hull outside and the crackling of the wick’s flame as it fights for survival.

Shouldn’t he be back by now?

Curious and concerned, you go searching. Knowing him, he’s either drinking or gambling the night away. With some guidance from the locals, you scout out every tavern and casino in town for him. A quick peek into the windows or door is enough for you- there’s no sign of his blond hair or ostentatious pirate hat anywhere. As an added bonus, catcalls follow you everywhere and it’s enough to make you want to punch your captain in the face when you do see him.

After a while of running around, you’ve just about had it. You’re exhausted, it’s late, and there’s still no sign of him. Where the hell could he have run off to now?

At your wit’s end now, you look at your surroundings and realize you’ve ended up at a university. You do remember seeing a map of the town the day you docked and recall a university in the northernmost reaches of the town limits. This is probably it. And from the looks of it, it’s not that big. Just a few buildings make up the entire campus.

One thing you notice walking around is a flight of stairs leading up the cliffside to what you assume to be an observatory at the top. It’s not off-limits, so you take your chances and ascend the stairs. It’s a clear night and you’re sure you can get a great view of the town from here. But as you climb, you hear voices drifting down. One of them sounds vaguely like… your captain?

You pick up the pace. The stairs are steep and uneven in some areas. Some steps are wet from what you presume is rainwater and you almost fall on several occasions. (The things you do for this man! He should be thankful that you’re always there to ensure his sorry ass stays in line.)

You’re not sure what you were expecting once you reached the observatory, but it certainly wasn’t… this. You see your captain alright, but he’s pressed against the railing that’s the only barrier between him and a long fall down to the turbulent waters beneath. A man with violet hair who you’ve never seen before faces him with his back toward you, pressing a gun against Aventurine’s chest. Strangely enough, Aventurine doesn’t look terrified. In fact, he seems to take delight in the precarious balance his life hangs in, even going so far as to press the barrel of the gun closer to his chest with that same taunting grin on his face all the while. His cheeks are flushed, but whether that be from alcohol or… something else is up for debate. You’re already used to his suicidal tendencies, but just seeing his face after the events of today pisses you off even more.

“Come on, doc. It’ll be worthwhile, I promise. You surely can’t be satisfied in a place like this, am I right?”

“Captain.”

That blissful look on his face vanishes in an instant, replaced by realization and pure fear. The other man turns around and golden eyes meet your ticked-off gaze. You brush the stranger aside and storm over to Aventurine, who looks more terrified of your wrath than any weapon.

“So this is where you’ve been this entire time. Did you lose track of time or something? Because it’s been hours since you were supposed to return! I was running around town, looking like an idiot trying to find you.”

He holds his hands up like he can defend himself from the onslaught coming his way. You jab your finger at his chest and he pouts as he looks away shamefully.

“(Name), at least hear me out first!” he whines. When you raise an eyebrow, he points over at the other man, who clicks his tongue and pointedly looks away.

“I found ourselves a potential third crewmate and was trying to convince him to join! But it doesn’t seem to be working… Care to try your hand?”

“That’s just another way of saying you’re pawning off the hard work to me!” you complain. And yet you humor his demands anyway.

“You are?”

He hmphs and rolls his eyes. Already, he pisses you off.

“Dr. Veritas Ratio, teacher and scholar. And you are?”

“Nurse (Name), working aboard the Lady Luck under the command of our Captain Aventurine.”

“... Said captain is on the verge of collapsing from alcohol poisoning behind you.”

It’s true. He’s clinging to the railing for dear life, the drinks from earlier catching up to him and hitting like a sledgehammer, you imagine.

“Aeons, how much did you drink earlier?” you grumble as you hoist one arm over your shoulder and awkwardly drag him along. He merely hums and buries his nose into your hair, tripping over his two feet as he attempts to walk.

“Mm… You smell nice, (Name). Like the new perfume I got you… hehe…”

“Answer the question, Captain.”

He opts to press his nose into your hair and inhale.

“Oh, not that much. Just… y’know… a couple tankards of beer.”

Meaning that he’s definitely had at least five of them and counting.

“… I’ve heard everything I needed to hear.”

Thankfully, Dr. Ratio seems to be adept at reading social cues and assists you with helping him down the stairs, albeit slowly and awkwardly. You invite him onto the ship and after taking a look around the medical quarters, he makes himself comfortable at your desk. He seems quite pleased, so you take it as some sort of roundabout compliment as you busy yourself with getting your captain to bed. You flip Aventurine over into the recovery position, who flops around aimlessly like a rag doll. Soon enough, you hear him faintly snoring. When you return, Dr. Ratio has taken one of the books shelved on your desk and began thumbing through it.

“You have medical knowledge?” you ask once the door behind you is shut. He barely looks up from the book and continues flipping through its pages.

“I have the title of ‘doctor’ for a reason.”

A doctor. An actual doctor. One step above you, a nurse. He had access to an education far out of your reach, and you had fought tooth and nail for yours.

You can’t help but feel the first pangs of jealousy sink their claws into you and you avert your eyes, humiliated. What purpose would you have aboard the ship should he join as a doctor? What’s stopping your captain from deciding the man in front of you can do everything you can plus more and throwing you off the ship? Granted, any medical professional, doctor or not, is highly sought-after on pirate ships and you believe your captain is above tossing you aside after you’ve already proven your loyalty to him. But the knowledge that he will always be regarded as one step above you, seen as more valuable, is enough to leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Overthinking things, are we?”

He meets your gaze with a sharp look of his own.

“Don’t give me that look. Only a fool who wallows in their own ignorance would do such a thing.”

You hadn’t realized you were glaring at him until now.

“Sorry,” you half-heartedly apologize, taking a deep breath to relieve the tight ball of anger in your chest. You just met this man; you know it’s not right to be pissed at him over something like this, but you can’t help it. You massage your temples and gesture for him to continue.

“I am well aware that you are the longtime nurse aboard this ship, and while I have no doubt you’re just as ignorant as the other fools who proclaim themselves to be intelligent and respected in their fields-“

Is he insulting me to my face?!

“- I will acknowledge that you are at least deserving of your title for keeping you and this ship’s captain alive all this time. A commendable feat considering your lack of a higher education. I thus have no intention of stripping you of your role.”

… Well, that’s your biggest concern addressed. Although, was the remark about your lack of education really necessary?

Now no longer worrying about whether or not you’d find yourself back at that place you swore to leave behind, you relax.

“Then what is your intention?”

He huffs and dramatically snaps the book shut.

“I am first and foremost an educator! My mission is to spread knowledge across the world until ignorance is a cured disease. And yet, the board of trustees at the university are doing everything they can to get me to stay. What a pointless endeavor!”

You cast a doubtful glance at him.

“... But you’re a professor. A fresh batch of students is a fresh batch of minds to educate. Isn’t academia where you thrive?”

Dr. Ratio huffs, like he’s having to explain something repeatedly to a child that doesn’t understand.

“Zero points! How can I possibly be content with my situation, knowing there’s a whole world of ignorance out there just waiting to be fixed? Besides, we don’t get many applicants per year.”

“Would you like a way out then?”

After a beat of silence, he sets your book down and turns to face you fully for the first time that night. You take in his ruby-rimmed golden eyes, the color of the sunset a few hours ago, that hold the weight of a genius’s expectations behind them.

“Are you offering me a position aboard the ship?”

“That depends. What skills do you have?”

He puffs his chest out proudly.

“I have eight doctorates in the fields of biology, medicine, natural theology, philosophy, physics, mathematics, engineering… oh, and astronomy. You would be hard-pressed to not glean some value.”

That last part catches your attention.

“Astronomy, you say?”

We are in need of a dedicated navigator… Aventurine can’t be at the helm 24/7.

You turn your attention back to Dr. Ratio, who meets your gaze with a tilt of his head and a raised brow.

“Something on your mind?”

“Have you ever tried your hand at being a ship’s navigator?”

He doesn’t look surprised at your question. It’s like he was anticipating it.

“I can’t say I have,” he admits. “But with my knowledge, it should be child’s play.”

“Don’t say that about something you’ve never tried,” you caution. “If you’re really interested, meet me back here at the docks this time tomorrow night. We’ll see how you do.”

The next night, he’s waiting at the docks with several bags lying beside him. Hm, he must’ve packed all his belongings for a life at sea now. Aventurine whistles at him as you lead him aboard.

“Looks like you’ve made up your mind already, doc. Told you so.”

If looks could kill, Aventurine would be at the bottom of the sea right now.

Once out on the deck, you hand him a sailing chart. Without a hitch, he dives right in. His spyglass is aimed at the sky as he examines the stars and their positions. With your help in hoisting the sails and Aventurine in steering the ship toward the right direction, you’re on track to your next destination.

“Not bad,” you praise. “You’ll need to learn how to steer the ship and how to hoist the sails, but you can learn that in due time.”

“That settles it then, I suppose,” comes Aventurine’s voice from behind. The soft glow of a tea candle flickering within a lantern fills the space as he steps into view.

“Welcome aboard, Ratio.”

He proves to be quite a skilled navigator, and you’re thankful you managed to snatch him up before any other pirate crew could. Even without a sailing chart or in stormy weather, he still manages to ensure you don’t veer off course. It’s truly remarkable, really, as even sailing from north to south is hardly a challenge for him.

He settles into the empty room next door to your quarters. Bookshelves line the walls from floor to ceiling, with several more stacked on his desk and bed. It perpetually smells like clean linens and chalk from the stash he burns through every week solving whatever problem piques his interest, written out on the rolling blackboard by the windows- or through hurling them at your captain with terrifying strength and speed. Sometimes, you’ll stop and stare at the board for a bit, only to give up after realizing you can’t understand a lick of it. It’s usually something physics or math related. If he’s in the room as well, he’ll try explaining it to you, but it all ends up flying over your head anyway.

Soon enough, he lets you call him by his first name without the title out in front- a privilege not even your captain has. When not found on the deck, he can either be found reading and solving problems in his quarters, or hovering by your side.

“Rum mixed with… lime juice?”

You’re in the kitchen, surrounded by supplies. A new shipment of rum and citruses sits in the corner and you’re going through them, preparing the crew’s rations of alcohol.

You nod and toss the rinds over your shoulder into the garbage.

“Stagnant water on ships is a gold mine for diseases and pests. Alcohol is usually a safer alternative, and while the captain and I painstakingly ensure the water onboard is safe to drink…”

You shrug and take an experimental sip of the mixture. The strong burn of alcohol all but scorches your throat on the way down, but it’s a sensation you’ve long grown accustomed to, even liking it by now. The addition of lime makes you purse your lips and raise your brows approvingly. It would be even better with some sugar but alas, it’s a very costly material to transport, even by Aventurine’s standards.

“I suppose there are some vices that just can’t be shaken, like a pirate’s love for alcohol. The lime also prevents scurvy. I bet they don’t teach you this in med school, do they?”

Veritas begrudgingly shakes his head.

“We’re taught about the dangers of scurvy and waterborne disease obviously, but never resort to such… crude solutions.”

You laugh and push a glass toward him.

“Well, this is your life now, and you chose it. Better get used to how things are done around here.”

“I’m not saying I have anything against your methods, as crude as they may be,” he scoffs as he eyes the drink in front of him. You think you see a hint of nervousness in his eyes and smirk. Perhaps it’s Aventurine’s influence rubbing off onto you, but you spot a perfect opportunity to tease him.

“Drink up. Cheers,” you say, raising your glass in a toast. “It’s not half-bad, I promise.”

He lifts the glass to his lips and takes a hesitant sip before sputtering dramatically, face scrunched up in an amusing expression of disgust. You all but cackle at his reaction and down half your glass in one fell swoop.

“Liar,” is all he can manage out as he chugs water to chase away the burn of the drink.

“You’ll be singing the same tune I am in just a few months’ time. Just wait and see, I guarantee it.”

“Or that’s just your alcoholic tendencies speaking.”

“Never claimed I wasn’t one,” you respond with an eye roll as you finish the last bit of your drink. He looks at you with an expression of faux disgust as you leave, then looks down at his drink again as soon as the door closes. With a sudden burst of effort, he downs all of it. Veritas feels like he’s about to start breathing fire, but he holds it in for a few seconds before shakily exhaling.

“… It’s passable, I suppose. Five points.”

It’s some time after this that you welcome your fourth member aboard.

You’re docked at the only port to a mining town that, to your eyes, is on the verge of becoming a ghost town. It’s not winter yet, so the town hasn’t completely frozen over and snowed in (which is common this far north) but it’s still so bitingly cold. Supposedly, this is the warmest it gets year-round, but you still find yourself shivering underneath all your layers as you pace back and forth to prevent your limbs from turning into icicles. Even Aventurine, who likes to drink and gamble the day away after docking, keeps things on land as short as possible before running back to the ship to warm up. (Not like there are any taverns or casinos in a place this miserable anyway.)

You’re only here because there’s a severe storm blocking your way and this was the only port that you could dock at. All others, including the one you had left, were too far away to even consider rerouting to. Aventurine is absolutely miserable at the situation and you’re no better. Veritas is probably the worst of you three, being even more snippy than usual and holing up in his quarters.

One thing you notice is the lack of trees. According to the locals, severe runoff from mining activities has led to trees spontaneously igniting from the industrial chemicals in the soil, leaving only burnt sticks behind. It’s quite sad, you think. The people here can’t even appreciate nature’s beauty.

Another thing you noticed as soon as you docked are the heavy respirators the residents wear. There are newer models on the market that are lighter, smaller, and just plain better, but the ones you see look like metal helmets from times of war rather than medical devices. They’re old, archaic and clunky. They cover the entire face and you can hear every labored inhale and exhale through the little grate in front of the mouthpiece.

It’s also so, so gray and dreary. A thick smog blankets the town thanks to the smokestack belching chemicals into the air. There’s a persistent acrid stench sticking to your clothes and skin and hair that no matter how hard you scrub, just won’t go away. Your throat feels scratchy and you’re always coughing and soon enough, you’re forced to don the same respirator everyone else does. You’re uncomfortably hot under the full face of metal and your neck is sore from its weight, while the vision in your left eye is always tinged red because of the glass used for the lens. You only wear it when you have to leave the ship, which is almost never. Aventurine laughed at how stupid you looked at first but before long, he was subjected to the same miserable fate as you.

“I can’t wait till we finally leave this place.”

“Tell me about it.”

On the day before you’re scheduled to finally depart, you decide to explore a bit further than you usually do. You hitch a ride with a resident past the outskirts of the town to the residential area. The pollution out here is significantly less, but still dangerously high by all standards. There’s actually vegetation out here! (Sparse blades of grass that haven’t been cut in ages and come up to your kneecaps. The soil is strangely wet and sticky and you wince after seeing the clumps of mud sticking to your shoes, even more so after recalling the extensive soil pollution plaguing the town.) Rows of identical concrete blocks are stacked alongside each other, meant to be bare-bones apartments. Faded slogans are painted onto the sides of them (“peace to the world!” is a common one you see) and there are small playgrounds out in front situated here and there.

It’s where you also find a girl around your age. She sits with her back to you as she hunches over something. It’s the bits of white hair peeking out from under the respirator that get your attention. You nudge the resident you’re walking alongside and look over at her.

“Who’s she?”

“Ah, that’s little Jelena. Though, she prefers to be called Topaz these days. Don’t ask me why.”

“What’s she working on?”

“Who knows? Beats me. All I know is she’s always mumbling something about leaving this place. Utter foolishness, if you ask me. Once you’re here, you’re never getting out.”

You stay put in your tracks examining her. She doesn’t seem to have noticed you, continuing with whatever she’s working on. The resident looks at you strangely but after a rushed and awkward wave goodbye, leaves.

“... Miss Topaz?”

She jolts and looks over her shoulder at you. Her respirator obscures her face but her posture is guarded and defensive. You can’t blame her.

“Who’re you? And how do you know my name?”

“A resident passing by told me.”

She takes a quick glance at you from head to toe.

“You’re not from here, are you?”

You laugh, hoping to dispel the tension and take a step forward. She looks a bit nervous, but hasn’t left yet. Good.

“What gave it away?”

“Nobody here has clothes that nice and clean. Or hair that shiny and well-maintained.”

She tugs on her own rags and choppy hair for emphasis. Sensing an opportunity, you sit down next to her and take your scarf off, wrapping it around her. Topaz jolts but stills when she feels how soft the material is. With a sudden effort, she yanks the respirator off her head and tosses it aside carelessly to bury her face further into the scarf.. The underlayer of her hair is a shockingly bright red. You match her actions and toss yours aside too. The acrid smell of polluted air hits your nose but you maintain a pleasant smile even though you want to scrunch your nose up and start coughing.

“Keep it,” you say, patting her shoulders. She rolls the scarf fringe around between her fingers, marveling at how thick the yarn is and how it doesn’t fray immediately. “I have more clothes than I know what to do with.”

Topaz lets the scarf fall from her fingers and looks up at you behind untrimmed bangs.

“... Who are you?”

She’s curious now. An enigmatic smile graces your face.

“Would you like to know?”

A nod.

“Nurse (Name), serving the Lady Luck, a vessel operated under the command of our pirate captain Aventurine.”

“... Pirates?”

Your gaze drifts to her workbook. There’s still questions in her eyes but she turns toward you a bit more to give you a better glance at what she’s working on, sensing your curiosity. A chart filled with lots of numbers and scribbled calculations all around it.

“What’re you working on?”

“Accounting. I’m studying hard to get out of here. Everyone says I shouldn’t bother and just settle down with a husband already, but I have my sights set on something far greater than what this life can give me.”

You sympathetically hum and nod. There’s a loud squeak and something falls into your lap out of nowhere. It’s a… piglet?? Tiny for one as well. It squeals and flails around a bit in your lap until Topaz swoops in and lifts it up.

“Numby! Stop that!”

It squeals some more as Topaz continues lecturing it. You watch the exchange with a mix of confusion and concern for Topaz’s life.

“Is this… your pet?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. This is Numby. They’re not just my pet though! They can accurately sense where riches are located and over the years, have even learned how to perform jobs related to security, debt collection, and actuarial sciences!”

The expression on your face must speak for yourself because she laughs and tosses you a gold coin. Numby squeals and flails in her arms, trying to go after it, but Topaz doesn’t budge.

“Don’t believe me? Toss this coin out there and watch Numby go after it.”

You catch the coin deftly. Topaz covers Numby’s eyes and hands you a pocket knife. You raise an eyebrow.

“Go bury it. Give Numby a challenge. Not like it really is one, but make them jump over a hurdle or two.”

“You can use weapons?”

“Course I can.”

She looks up at the perpetually gray sky and the plumes of pollution being spewed out.

“There’s not a lot of people here, but life is hard and sometimes people try to take out their frustrations on those around them. Crime is a lot more rampant than you’d expect in a place like this, and unless you want to be robbed completely defenseless, it’s a given to always have something on you.”

You feel like your lucky stars have aligned and all the Aeons themselves are smiling down on you. By Aventurine’s luck, this girl is everything you need all in one package! You feel like this is hardly real.

“What weapons can you use?”

She shrugs. “Knives, mostly. They’re the most accessible around here. But I have experience with guns too. Swords as well. Nabbed them off the drunken sailors a while back to protect myself and Numby against some idiots who had the really bright idea to turn them into bacon.”

… You feel like you’re ascending right now. Everything is aligning exactly the way you need them to.

“Stolen a few times before, eh? Looks like you’ve already got experience in piracy.”

She scowls at you and you take that as your cue to bury the coin. You choose a location that’s a few apartment blocks down from hers. The knife sinks easily into the sticky, polluted soil as you dig a little hole before burying the coin. You avoid getting any dirt on your hands, not wanting to even think about what the contamination could and would do to your skin…

“Finished,” you call out as you make your way back to her. Topaz lifts her hand from Numby’s eyes and with a slap to the rear, sends the piglet running. They run faster than you expected them to with their stubby legs and soon disappear from sight.

“They’ll be waiting for us where the treasure is. But in the meanwhile, we can walk and talk.”

The two of you begin walking side by side, this time with less tension in the air.

“What a drag it is being pressured to settle for less,” you empathize, shifting the conversation back to the earlier topic. “What do you want to be?”

“A businesswoman of sorts, climbing up the ladder until I’m sitting at the top. Then no one can tell me what to do.” Even as she walks, she still continues to work, her pencil flying across the page as she performs calculations faster than you can keep up with.

You raise your eyebrows and let out an “ohhhhhhh” in response. A golden opportunity has presented itself.

“Well, what do you want in life then?”

“... I suppose it’s to solve problems. There’s many of them that exist in this world and I like solving them. It makes me feel nice, knowing I’m doing something to improve people’s lives.”

“Why not a teacher or something similar then? You’re quite good at math, after all.”

She shakes her head. “Not enough jobs in education around here. The nearest school is in the neighboring town, which is over half an hour away. The nearest university is several hours away in the city. There’s no demand for education in these parts, so there’s no supply of jobs and the current positions are occupied by people who’d rather die than resign.”

She flips to the next page and dives right in.

“But companies are always hiring, right? I heard from the sailors down at the dock that there’s a few that are rapidly growing and are in need of people. So that’s why I want to become a businesswoman. Because it’s the fastest way to achieve what I want- happiness. And that’s how a job should be.”

You drum your fingers along your arm excitedly and lean forward with a conspiratorial look on your face. Drawn in by your expression, Topaz can’t help but lean in a bit too.

“What if I said that although I can’t land you a job at a big company, I can guarantee you riches and a chance to explore the world? You can also finally escape those annoying aunties who keep pestering you about marriage and sending men your way who you can’t even bear to look at,” you whisper, temptation and promise dripping from every word.

Her pencil stills, she comes to a halt, and she looks at you fully for the first time. Her eyes are a brilliant purple with flecks of blue and yellow. Despite the harsh conditions surrounding her, they still retain plenty of life. Quite different from Aventurine, you think. Makes you wonder what he went through to have the life sucked out of his eyes.

But soon enough, there’s a scowl back on her face and she begins walking again.

“Money is a means, not an end. I may be poor, but I’m not studying out of greed. Work should make you happy. If that’s all there is to offer, then I won’t be happy and I can’t have that happening.”

“How does solving long-buried mysteries sound? It should scratch that problem-solving itch of yours.”

She hesitates and you can tell she’s starting to seriously consider your offer. You just have to keep pushing and choosing your words carefully.

“I don’t see how piracy helps anyone though,” she says stubbornly and you mentally sigh. She really wants to know what she’s getting herself into, huh? But that’s already two of her three needs you’ve got checked off and you already have a counterargument prepared for this.

“We only search for and discover buried treasure that no one has laid claim to and is free game for all interested pirates,” you calmly respond. “None of that town-looting business you might hear about from the sailors down at the dock. And should you wish to donate your share of money earned to philanthropic organizations or invest it elsewhere… you’re more than welcome to. We won’t stop you.”

From the look on her face, victory has already been secured. And yet, she looks uncertain. Unsure.

“But… Why me? Why little Jelena from this run-down mining town when there are so many smart, talented people out there waiting to be discovered?”

There’s a loud squeal up ahead and Numby is jumping up and down in front of the spot you had buried the coin. Topaz unearths it with the knife and pulls out the dirt-stained coin. So she was right. Even better.

You reach your hand out to her, just like how you did when you made your offer to Aventurine and Veritas.

“Why, it’s simple. We both get what we want. You get a ticket out of here and a hefty share of our riches, while we get a capable bookkeeper who prevents our captain from gambling away too much money, plus a master gunner who’ll defend the ship from foes.”

Your hand remains extended. She stares at it, then at you disbelievingly.

“I…”

You wave the gold coin you plucked out of her gloved hands without her noticing and wave it in front of her face.

“Every investment has its risks, right? I suppose it’s natural to want to pick the one that has the least risk involved when you’re putting down something as important and uncertain as your future as collateral. But you’re still young with plenty of time left and dreams unfulfilled. If you play it safe, you won’t be able to make a killing later on in life. My days are freer now. All of us are. And I know that freedom to do as you please is what’ll bring you that happiness you so desire.”

Silence greets you. You swallow nervously. (You hope she didn’t see it.) You’re no businessperson, but you know an opportunity when you see it. And this is one you absolutely cannot let slip through your fingers. You’re gripping the coin as tight as you can and your hands are cold and clammy beneath your gloves.

Her shoulders begin to shake. Your hand twitches and you think you’ve somehow upset her until she begins to laugh heartily. It’s loud and free, echoing off the walls of the apartment blocks. It’s the prettiest sound you’ve heard in this whole town.

“Wow, talk about a win-win situation! Just the way I like to go about doing business. Nurse (Name), I’ll be under your care going forward!”

She whistles for Numby, who comes running over, oinking.

“... You’re not bringing anything else with you? We don’t have to leave immediately, you know. We still got a whole day before we leave.”

Topaz shakes her head and lifts Numby onto her shoulders.

“Nothing worth bringing along. Besides, what’s a better way to signify a fresh start in life by leaving everything behind?”

“Not saying goodbye either?”

Her enthusiastic demeanor fades to something more solemn and her pace slows.

“... No one here supports my dreams. If they didn’t support me from the very start, they don’t deserve to see me at my proudest.”

You hitch a ride back to the docks with another resident. On the way back, Topaz nudges you in the side.

“Are you sure you aren’t a businessperson? That was a very solid offer you drafted and presented to me back there. I couldn’t have done much better myself. You’ve even got the silver tongue for success as well. Perhaps an ambassador of sorts, at the very least?”

You laugh and brush aside her compliments.

“I’m truly flattered, but I really am just a nurse onboard… oh. Right.”

“... Is something the matter?”

“It’s just… I never told our Captain that a fourth member might be joining us. Ah… he’s in for quite the surprise when we get back to the docks.”

In my defense, it’s not like I could’ve told him anyway while I was so far away from our ship…

Her face falls. Wait, you can’t have this happening already! Not when you just convinced her to join!

“I’ll vouch for you,” you quickly reassure. “He may be annoying and difficult to work with, but he’s not unreasonable. Besides, I’ve been a crewmate for the longest. If there’s anyone he’s going to listen to, it’s me.”

You find Aventurine lounging around in his quarters when you return. He gets up to welcome you back with an eager grin and an embrace, but pauses when he sees Topaz and Numby behind you.

“Oh? Who’s this?”

You plant yourself between them.

“Topaz, meet Captain Aventurine. You’ll be working under him from this day forward.”

As per his usual nature, he merely laughs and extends his hand. Topaz firmly grasps and shakes it.

“A new recruit,” he chuckles. “Welcome aboard the Lady Luck then. We could always use some more helping hands around here. (Name), why don’t you go show her around the ship?”

But there’s a look in his eyes that follows you into the late hours of the night, through showing her the layout of the ship and introducing her to Veritas who looked as if he couldn’t care less, and the extravagant dinner to celebrate her arrival.

You and I need to talk.

It’s only after everyone has gone to sleep that Aventurine seeks you out. Topaz is sleeping soundly in your bed and you’re leaning against the doorframe outside, waiting for him. When he does appear, the usual carefree smirk is gone, instead replaced by a more serious expression.

“Really? A new crewmate without my-”

You violently shush him.

“She’s sleeping!” you hiss. He rolls his eyes but listens all the same.

“... I’m not saying I’m doubting your ability to seek out talented people,” he begins, voice a whisper this time. “But what if she betrays us? And we’ve been just fine so far with the three of us. What can she do that we can’t?”

You roll your eyes.

“Aventurine-”

“Kakavasha.”

“What?”

His intense gaze doesn’t waver. Ghost fire sprouts from his fingertips and dances wildly around him. A wisp lands on your hand. It’s warm, pleasantly so.

“Kakavasha. That’s my real name. Call me that, but only when we’re alone.”

“... Really? You decide to finally open up in the middle of an argument?” you grumble. “There’s a time and place for everything, y’know…”

He blinks at you innocently and you resist the urge to push him overboard. Instead, you settle for coughing and swatting the wisp of ghost fire away from you.

“... As I was saying, Captain Kakavasha, she won’t betray us.”

“A bold statement to make with such confidence. How can you say for certain?”

“Kakavasha, this girl came from nothing. You saw the state of town she grew up in. No friends, no connections, no way out. But we gave her the escape she’s been looking for. She won’t sell us out, not while she’s indebted to us.”

You hear a sudden noise behind the door and freeze. It’s silent for several more agonizing moments until you finally relax. She probably just shifted around in her sleep. You really hope she didn’t wake up or hear any of that…

“But if she decides to leave of her own accord to chase her dream further, then who are we to stop her? Of course, even if she tries to turn us in, the authorities won’t be able to catch us,” you joke, trying to ease his fears.

Aventurine hums. He doesn’t look moved.

“So? What can she do that we can’t?”

… But he doesn’t press the prior topic any further so you assume it’s ok for now.

You beam and hold out the workbook you swiped off her earlier.

“Captain, we’ll have a dedicated accountant on board now! Just look at this. I saw her complete this entire page in no more than five minutes! Not only is she fast, but she’s accurate! Here, check for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Aventurine takes it and examines it with an air of disinterest surrounding him. He glances at it for a few seconds before tossing it back.

“Yeah, it’s all correct.”

“But that’s not all!” you continue. “Her little pet that’s always following her? Apparently, they’re skilled in security, debt collection, and actuarial sciences!”

The silence that follows your statement speaks for itself.

“... Don’t look at me like that.”

“Are you drunk right now, (Name)?”

“Hey!” you exclaim indignantly, before remembering that Topaz is still asleep. “I am not! I’ll admit, I was just quoting her claims but her pet is really good at detecting treasure. I buried a gold coin and they found it with no trouble. Kakavasha, imagine how useful they would be.”

“Pigs are a symbol of good luck aboard a ship…” he mumbles to himself and it’s a sign you’re a step closer to convincing him.

“... Should we introduce her to Jade?” you ask. Aventurine looks at you like you’re insane. Then, as if considering your offer, looks at your door as if seeing through it to the girl sleeping in your bed.

“I know you’re good at math and business too, but wouldn’t it be nice to have someone else equally as skilled on board? With a bit of refinement from Jade, she’ll be just as qualified as any other licensed professional out there,” you plead.

He shakes his head. “If you want me to be the bookkeeper as well, I can do that no problem. If you’re adamant about her joining, you’ll have to try harder than that.”

“You’re a pain in the ass.”

“Your pain in the ass, sweetheart.”

“Shut up and don’t call me that, especially right now,” you growl. He merely hums and smiles, his expression strangely cat-like. He wants to make things difficult for you? Fine. Time to bring out the big guns then.

“She’s skilled with weapons.”

“...”

“How skilled? And with what types?”

Checkmate.

“Knives, mostly. But she has experience with guns and swords too.”

You can practically see the gears turning in his head and hear his thoughts. He must be thinking about the weapons piled away in the armory with no one skilled enough to use them. With Topaz on board, they’d be put to good use for once- and after enough training from her, there was nothing the crew would fear.

“... Of course, I still have to personally see what she’s capable of.”

He glances at the clock hanging above his dresser mirror.

“I’ll see to it tomorrow morning. Tell her to meet me on the deck first thing after waking up. I’ll be testing her aim and accuracy, among other factors.”

You’re woken up the next morning by the sound of gunshots. Several of them. Thinking you’re under attack, you scramble to your feet and stumble onto the deck only to see Topaz shooting some bottles lined up on the railing- and she’s hitting every one of them.

Aventurine takes in the sight of you in your pajamas and unbrushed hair. A snort escapes him.

“Good morning, my lovely nurse. Did you sleep well?”

… The nerve of this man. Then again, he did warn you the night before, so it’s not like you can blame him for your own forgetfulness.

He stops you before you can storm off though, beckoning Topaz over.

“Congratulations,” he says while clapping. “Thanks to my beloved’s recommendation and your mastery over weapons, I hereby welcome you aboard the ship as our master gunner, Topaz.”

She excitedly shakes his hand before enveloping you in a bone-crushingly tight hug.

“Thank you! I promise I won’t let you down. I’ll pay you back double- no, triple the amount of investment you’ve put in me. And I always deliver on my promises!”

Your thoughts are a whirlwind as you watch her run down to where your quarters are.

… But I never saw it as you owing me?

Aventurine’s light laughter pulls you out of your thoughts. You scowl at him as he stops before you, gently combing out the tangles in your bedhead with his fingers.

“Stop referring to me by those pet names. People are going to get the wrong idea about us.”

“Oh? I wouldn’t mind that one bit.”

“Veritas has already been giving me strange looks whenever he sees us two together. Add Jele- Topaz into the mix and I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”

“Handle what? Sweetheart, it’s just the four of us out on the open sea!”

He spins you around in his arms and you let yourself be dragged along.

“That’s exactly what I mean! And don’t ‘sweetheart’ me!”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

“You-!”

Topaz settles into the room across the hall from yours. While the space is initially barren, it quickly gets filled up thanks to you. She raids your overflowing wardrobe and takes whatever interests her periodically and half the time, you don’t even realize what she stole thanks to your captain constantly spoiling you. Cosmetics are another common victim of her theft, but it’s more noticeable, especially if it’s a perfume. Books that you’ve finished are piled up in her room and she’ll often come to you with questions about your thoughts after she’s finished reading one. Numby has their own little bed at the foot of hers and you’ll frequently see them chasing Doubloon around the deck.

It seems that Topaz is good at everything and anything she sets her mind to, because she becomes frighteningly skilled with weapons in a short period of time. Every day, she holds lessons teaching you all how to use an array of weapons, and she’s quite the skilled teacher too. But when class isn’t in session, she can often be found out on the main deck during a sunny day, humming a tune to herself as she cleans out the many pricey pistols and rifles you’ve plundered over the course of your journeys. Or by your side, but that’s a given by now.

She also gets… seasick. Rather easily too. It’s her one fatal weakness. She gets used to it over time, but if the seas are rougher than usual, it’s guaranteed that you’ll find her hurling into the ocean, face pale and hair sticking to her forehead. And sometimes, it’ll still happen even when the seas are calm! It gets to the point where she’s so fed up she goes to Aventurine himself and demands answers. But he merely tips his head back and laughs.

Aventurine pats the shiny wooden helm. As if responding to him, she creaks and rolls precariously even though the waves are calm.

The four of you now are a complete crew. Incredibly small by all means, but a crew that operates smoothly like a well-oiled machine and one to be feared.

As there’s so few of you on board, all of you have to double down, or even triple down, on roles. Veritas is simultaneously the boatswain and navigator, while Topaz is master gunner and master at arms while also being the bookkeeper. You’re “the ship’s beloved nurse”, as so lovingly referred to by Aventurine, while also being the quartermaster. Smaller roles such as cooking and carpentry are handled on a day by day basis and whoever’s available at the moment- although it usually ends up being you after Numby ran amok in the kitchen and almost burnt the ship down.

Guess being second in command is the bare minimum you deserve after being with him the longest among everyone on board. Although, there’s no real sense of hierarchy when there’s only four of you in total…

Unlike other pirate captains out there, he wasn’t a rich man or a legitimate captain or even a high-ranking officer on a private vessel before becoming captain. Rather, there’s almost nothing known about him and it’s what makes others regard him with suspicion. How can a man who started off with nothing sail the seas with such ease, outshining even those who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths?

But it’s all forgotten about in the face of his achievements- always going where no man has dared gone before and finding treasures beyond a pirate’s wildest imagination, as well as discovering several legendary treasures that have been lost for generations. Sea monsters that have been terrorizing ships for years meet their watery demise by your hand with Topaz leading the fray. Even the harshest of seas and weathering three days and nights with little sleep and food isn’t enough to shake your spirits. Mythical beasts meet death one after another and it’s around after the third creature slayed- a kraken whose single tentacle was longer than your ship measured from prow to stern, strong enough to crush her hull into splinters with ease- that you know you’ve made a name for yourselves. Whispers follow you everywhere you go on land and you’ll always hear dramatized retellings of your battles and treasures discovered while passing by taverns.

The bounty on your heads also increases with each treasure you discover. It wasn’t until the four of you banded together that wanted posters started being put out. The amounts offered started off small at first, but after more and more valuable treasures were discovered, the number of zeros at the end keeps increasing until it’s the staggering number it is today. It becomes a point of pride, seeing how quickly the amount offered spikes with each town you stop at and you’ll have a good laugh over it, especially if the authorities think they’re fast enough to arrest you. You’ll take your sweet time fleeing as officials scurry after you like drunken idiots with two left feet- and giving them a fair share of trouble too. By the time they catch up with you at the port, you’re already long gone with a stash of stolen weapons and alcohol onboard- and a horrifyingly long tab under their name at the local tavern.

All the while having a crew of only three under Aventurine’s command. Truly a once-in-a-lifetime kind of pirate captain.

As word spreads from port to port about his unbelievable luck in finding treasure, his reputation grows and so does the number of people looking to join his crew. At every port, he welcomes anyone wishing to join with open arms. But not everyone is worthy of joining. You secretly put every applicant through a series of tests to see if they’re qualified including, but not limited to: seeing what skills they have to offer that you don’t possess already, if they can handle Ratio’s admittedly hardass personality at times, if they can satisfactorily perform the jobs of upwards of three people, as well as their motives among others.

And of course, dealing with Aventurine. He’s in a category of his own.

As expected, none of them last more than an hour. Shame. More hands on deck would always be appreciated.

All of this leads to your reputation as a small but tight-knit crew that would defend each other to the death. Regardless of the size or might of the ship that dares to challenge you, you always emerge victorious. Whether it be down to dumb luck or the collective desire to protect home, no one makes it out alive after encountering you. It’s enough to tell other pirate crews to steer clear, especially after you had considerably roughed up other crews more than twice your size. After the first few encounters that resulted in many dead pirates, you all decide to raise a red flag. It warns others that your crew will refuse to spare the lives of any opponent that comes your way. You’ve actually seen ships turn and head the other way after seeing yours. Now, whether that be from the red flag or upon recognizing the Lady Luck, you’re not sure, but it means less work for you either way, so you aren’t keen on prying too deep.

Surprisingly, Aventurine doesn’t like to settle things with a duel unless he has to. Rather, his preferred method is with a game. He’ll invite the captain of the other ship below deck for a game of poker or blackjack rather than clashing swords and guns. The wager? The same as usual- the lives of the crew and the supplies on board. The loser and his crew would have to walk the plank and all treasures aboard would be handed over to the winning party. It’s not often it happens, but it’s still a nerve-wracking experience each time. Topaz had nearly passed out from anxiousness the first time he’d bet her life alongside yours and Ratio’s not long after she’d joined, while Ratio had lifted Aventurine up by the collar and nearly thrown him overboard. It was only thanks to your intervention and pleading that your captain hadn’t met his end that day.

… Safe to say, many a pirate crew have lost their lives and treasure this way.

Like the crew that was idiotic enough to challenge Aventurine’s luck and consequently met their end just a few minutes ago.

You watch as the captain of the ship anchored across from yours goes overboard with a resounding splash. His crew had already jumped before him.

“That’s the last of ‘em,” says Topaz as she confirms with the spyglass. “Ratio and Cap’n are going through and seeing what treasure they had. But what would we do about their ship?”

“Leave it. We don’t have any cannons on board to blast it to smithereens and it's not worth adding another vessel to our fleet.”

Veritas and Aventurine push several treasure chests across the gangplank. Once the last of them are on your ship, Veritas lifts the gangplank and weighs the anchor and soon, you’re off again.

“Let’s see what we have in here,” says Aventurine as you all stroll over curiously. He pops the lids off the chests and collective “oohs” and “aahs” fill the air as you marvel at the sparkling treasure filled to the brim inside. Aventurine lets out an appreciative whistle and lets a handful of multicolored gemstones slip through his fingers.

“Have at it. Go and take your pick.”

Veritas snatches up the sailing charts while Topaz lays claim to the abundance of weapons. Her eyes are sparkling as she looks at the weapons in much need of some love and a deep-cleaning, and you can already tell what she’ll be up to for the next week or so. Meanwhile, you go through the chests with slim hope they’ll contain some medical supplies. To your disappointment, but not surprise, you find none. You instead settle on some pearl jewelry that catches your eye.

“You guys barely took anything,” comments Aventurine as he peers into the chests again. “They’re still practically full.”

“That’s because gold and jewelry can only get us so far,” you remind him as he steps behind you to fasten the string of pearls around your neck. The cold metal of his nail guards and warmth of his fingertips lightly brushing over the nape of your neck make you shudder. From the faint chuckle that escapes him, your action didn’t go unnoticed.

“Credits are where it’s really at,” adds Topaz as she gets to sharpening and polishing a sword. Aventurine rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“Of course the budding businesswoman would say that.”

He barely ducks out of the way in time to avoid Numby being chucked toward his head.

Heavy wind and rain batters the Lady Luck later that night. But it’s cozy and warm beneath the deck in your dining room. Mismatched dishes and cups cover the round table the four of you are seated around, the food having long since been polished off. Numby is in a food coma by Topaz��s feet and Doubloon purrs contentedly in your lap. Veritas had gone off to bed earlier and Topaz is mumbling incoherently to herself, having drank more than she usually does in one sitting. With Aventurine’s help, you help Topaz to her feet and tuck her into bed while Numby sleepily trots after you.

The two of you are back in the kitchen, silently doing the dishes and cleaning the space. When you’re finished, you bid him goodnight until you feel his hand latch onto your sleeve.

“What is it?”

“... Stay. Please.”

“... Captain, did you have too much to drink at dinner earlier?”

“I’m fine,” he grumbles. “Not even tipsy.”

The pink flush on his cheeks makes you doubt his words, but you let him lead you toward his quarters. The space is warm and extravagantly decorated. Atlases and maps are piled atop the heavy wooden desk in the corner with several candles burning throughout that fill the room with light. His wardrobe is even more packed than yours, overflowing to the point where you can barely make out the original floor beneath the heaps and piles of clothing. You carefully step over what you believe is a pile of silken robes on the way to his bed, where you lay him to sleep amongst the many fluffy pillows and heavy blankets covering the mattress.

He stops you again as you’re about to leave.

“Don’t.”

“Captain, you have to go to sleep soon.”

“I’m not tired,” he argues childishly. “I have something I need to tell you.”

The uncharacteristic seriousness of his voice has you straightening up. You cast a glance at the door to ensure it’s locked as he sits up and drapes a luxurious fur over your shoulders. He pats the empty space next to him and after a moment of hesitation over the implications of getting into bed with your captain, you join him.

“Truth be told, I haven’t been able to sleep lately,” he laments. “I’ve been plagued by nightmares…”

It’s only now you notice the dark circle under his exposed eye and a pang of guilt strikes your heart. You cautiously remove the bejeweled eyepatch and expose his blind eye- a privilege granted to only you- and frown at the sight.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“A while now,” he grumbles. You click your tongue and your frown deepens.

“Why didn’t you come to me about this earlier?”

Aventurine rolls his eyes.

“Please. It’s nothing worth worrying your pretty head over.”

The remark has the opposite effect he intended. You glare at him and angrily tug on his ear.

“Captain, I think you’ve forgotten this, but it’s our duty to ensure you’re fit to sail even if you do piss us off to no extent at times. I’m responsible for ensuring you’re in good health, Topaz is responsible for making sure we can defend ourselves, while Ratio is in charge of making sure we don’t veer off course. We are all your responsibility just as much as you are ours.”

He sighs and looks away. Figures. He should’ve known better than to expect you’d let his neglectfulness slip by the wayside. Meanwhile, you roll your neck and irritatedly sigh.

“You mentioned nightmares. Do you want to talk about them?”

He keeps avoiding eye contact. With a resigned sigh, you lean against him languidly, head resting on his shoulder. Aventurine stiffens, clearly not used to touch, but relaxes after a few seconds. A hand comes to grasp yours.

“... They always start off the same way,” he begins. “We’re lost at sea somehow and there’s always foul weather. Amidst the lighting, a ghost ship is illuminated.”

He swallows.

“We then investigate that ship to discover that her hull is filled to the brim with gold and treasures alike, but no captain or crew on board.”

Aventurine begins fiddling with the poker chip he always carries on him.

“And this is where things can change. Sometimes, I’ll turn and see that she’s hung you all before my eyes. Other times you’ll all have gone overboard, drowned by a rogue wave snatching everyone up except for me. Sometimes she’ll even steal my sight. Either way, they all end the same way. I’m cursed to be her captain forever, sailing the seas without an end in sight. A captain that didn’t go down with his ship and left without a crew.”

He lets out a dry, humorless laugh and tucks the chip back into his pocket. You swallow dryly.

“Do you think it has anything to do with…?”

You look down at his hands, then back up at him. He doesn’t meet your gaze.

“... How much do you know?”

It sounds more like a threat than a question- but a weak one at that. You scoff and take his hands in yours, taking care to remove the nail guards one by one as well.

“What do you mean by that? Kakavasha, you know by now I couldn’t care less about who you are. And honestly, I’m kind of offended that you think I would,” you sigh as you remove his hat and the teal bandana wrapped around his head. “All this time together and I was under the impression you held me in higher regard than that.”

“Cut the theatrics,” he grumbles. You toss his hat and bandana off to the side and pull the blankets snugly over you both.

“But a ghost ship, hm?” you say, eyeing the stack of open books on his desk. “That’s never a good sign. Surely we’re not sailing towards our imminent deaths, right?”

He draws you closer as you roll over onto your stomach and gaze up at him with sleepy eyes. He feels his heart somersault at the proximity and your warmth seeping into the sheets. It’s an unfamiliar feeling he’s not quite comfortable with yet and tries to play it off with a laugh.

“I’d sure hope not.”

But it’s the first time he’s met your gaze this entire night. You meet his eyes unflinchingly, as you always do, with a lazy smile as you shift onto your side.

“... There’s no storm that Veritas can’t lead us out of,” you quietly reassure. “No monster that Jelena can’t kill. No injury that I can’t heal.”

A hand sneaks out from beneath the covers to grasp his.

“And no captain better fit to lead us through the storm than you. So chin up, ok? We’ll make it out together on the other side surrounded by calm seas just fine.”

Aventurine shakily exhales. There’s still more on his mind but… forget it. They’re not worth worrying you over.

“... If you say so, sweetheart.”

“‘Course I do. Because I believe in your abilities.”

He stares at you disbelievingly before bursting out into laughter.

“You really are something, you know? Something so incredible I could practically kiss you right now.”

“Then do it.”

Your gaze is steadfast like it’s always been ever since joining. Not once have you ever flinched away from witnessing every aspect about him, both pretty and ugly. Every reckless, stupid, horrible decision he’s ever made was an attempt to chase you off the ship so you wouldn’t see him for who he really is. But for some reason, whether it be your persistence or having figured out his motives, you’ve stuck around.

He’s a coward of a man at heart, but you’ve surely seen through his grandeur by now. You may pretend to be a mere nurse, but Aventurine knows that’s far from the case. You surely have to know his biggest, darkest secret by now, yes?

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll tell Ratio that you’re the one who’s been leaving obscene doodles on his chalkboard and Topaz that you’re the reason for Numby’s sudden weight gain.”

“Seems like my hand has been forced,” he chuckles. “Fine. You win this round, my beloved nurse.”

The rain continues pouring outside, but it’s still warm and dry beneath the deck. And if one kiss leads to something that lasts until the candles burn out, then…

That’s a secret for you to keep then, yes?

It’s not the sun that wakes you the next morning. Rather, it’s the weight of a blond man sprawled out on top of you that does.

“Kakavasha… get off me. You’re heavy and I can’t breathe.”

“Mmm… no. You’re comfy.”

His arms tighten around your waist as you flail around and try to shake him off.

“Captain, your duties and crew await you! Let go of me!”

After some more incessant squirming and an accidental kick to his stomach, he finally relents. You shake him off and get ready for the day, trying to not think about what transpired last night as you change and do your makeup. The mere thought of it is enough to make your face heat up several degrees…

When you’re finished, you peek into his room on the way to the main deck out of curiosity, only to see he’s still in the same spot you left him in. When he sees you glaring at him disapprovingly from the doorway, he perks up.

“Help me get ready?”

“Captain, you are a grown ass man.”

“Pretty please?”

He hurries to his feet and scurries over, before sinking to his knees and wrapping his arms around your waist. He fixates you with those big, watery dual-colored eyes and you just can’t bring yourself to say no even though you know he’s playing you like a fiddle

“... Fine. But just this once. And not a word to Ratio and Topaz, got it?”

“Understood, my dear nurse!”

You start by all but tossing his clothes toward him, then turning and facing the other way resolutely as he gets dressed.

“Won’t you help your poor captain out here?”

A loud “oof!” escapes him as you toss his long coat over your shoulder. The weight of it, gold embellishments and gems and all, knocks him flat on his back and onto his bed again. He takes his sweet time getting dressed after that, grumbling all the while until he’s done.

The wealth of accessories he wears are next. Aventurine slips on the pair of golden anchor earrings that are as heavy as one as you layer his necklaces the way he likes them. He preens like a bird under your attention and you have to fight back the comment likening him to a peacock that brews on the tip of your tongue.

You re-wrap the bandana around his head before placing his hat on slightly tilted- just the way he likes it. Almost done. Just one last touch before he’s ready. You pull out a tin of salve and dab it onto the scar over his eye. Aventurine scrunches his nose up in distaste at the strong herbal smell, but lets you do as you please. You pat it dry and secure his eyepatch, nodding in satisfaction at your handiwork.

“Perfect. There’s our captain, ready to command and conquer the seas.”

“I think you meant to say my captain, especially after last night. Weren’t you the one-”

You shut him up with a zealous kiss to the lips that has him sighing in bliss when you pull away, a dazed expression on his face and a pretty shade of pink on his lips that matches the one on yours.

For such an eccentric man, he sure can be predictable when you have him dancing in the palm of your hand.

The skies are cloudier and darker than you’d like them to be when you step out onto the deck. It’s also quite windy too. Veritas is lowering one of the sails while Topaz is on lookout duty. Upon seeing the two of you hand in hand, the former scoffs and rolls his eyes while the latter whistles obnoxiously.

“Good morning to you two lovebirds! I take it you had some fun last night?”

You chuck a pastry you had nabbed from the kitchen at Topaz to shut her up. She catches it deftly with one hand while Numby jumps up and down around her, pleading for a bite, but at least it worked. Meanwhile, Veritas is glaring at you with disgust in his eyes.

“What?” you ask innocently.

“I couldn’t sleep a wink last night.”

Oh. Oops.

“You’re just complaining because you’re jealous, doc,” interjects Aventurine with an arm thrown around your shoulder. The purple-haired man scowls angrily and turns on his heel, storming away angrily while grumbling something about the too-thin walls on the ship.

“And wipe that lipstick mark off your mouth,” he snaps at Aventurine. His face flushes guiltily while you snicker behind your hand.

Topaz lifts the spyglass away with a worried look on her face.

“Cap’n, there’s a storm brewing up ahead. A pretty intense one from the looks of it and because the winds are reaching us out here already.”

Normally, he’d laugh such concerns off and lazily give the order to circle around it. But this time, he wordlessly takes the spyglass from her and looks out toward the horizon where dark storm clouds are gathering and swirling.

“... Turn around.”

You think you’ve misheard him and so does everyone else.

“What?”

“Turn the ship around,” he quickly orders as he places the spyglass back into Topaz’s hands and hurries over to the helm. “If we go now at full sail, we should be able to outrun it until it dies out.”

Ratio and Topaz share confused looks but do as he says, obediently hoisting all the sails as Aventurine spins the wheel. The Lady Luck slowly turns around and soon she’s sailing ahead at full speed. Even so, the storm clouds aren’t getting any smaller.

There’s a level of urgency etched into Aventurine’s face that you haven’t seen before as he pushes the Lady Luck to her limits. His hands grip the wheel so tightly you think that any more and the wood would crack. It’s as if he’s trying to outrun something, especially with how often he looks back over his shoulder at the encroaching clouds blanketing the sky in pitch-black darkness.

Even sailing at near-top speeds, you still aren’t able to outrun the storm. Heavy clouds that bring with them an oppressive humidity and electrical charge to the air roll in rapidly, surrounding you on all four sides. There’s a strange buzz in the air and your hair begins to stand on end. There’s a small patch of clear sky in front of you that’s your only escape, and it’s rapidly shrinking.

Come on, just a little faster… just a little more…!

Her prow just barely breaks free of the storm when a sudden flash of lightning temporarily blinds you all. When you open your eyes again, it’s so dark you can only see a few paces in front of you. Not a single shred of light escapes the thick storm clouds rolling overhead that have finally completely moved in, and you realize the sky is tinged a sickly green when lightning flashes. The air is heavy and humid and mere seconds later, heavy, fat raindrops fall from the clouds, splattering angrily against the deck. The temperature plummets and the raindrops condense into giant hailstones, harshly stinging your skin as they pelt you and the deck with harsh cracks. The slippery surface of the deck and angry seas tossing the ship around as if she weighs nothing make it so that you’re constantly sliding into walls and hitting things.

You’re surrounded by the storm with no way out in sight.

Ratio lowers the sails as fast as he can and jumps down the second he’s done. Mere milliseconds later, the boom swings about violently toward the spot he was just at. A moment sooner and he would’ve surely died upon impact.

You regroup by Aventurine’s side, who’s staring at the churning waters with barely-concealed horror. Towering, white-capped waves crash mercilessly against her hull and spill onto the deck. The salty spray of the ocean shoots up as high as the masts and stings your eyes. The continuous gusts of winds threaten to rip the sails off the masts and howl against your ears. The Lady Luck rolls violently amidst the choppy waves and your stomach twists into knots at every drop. Poor Topaz is already throwing up over the side of the ship and Ratio is starting to look a little green.

“So this is it then,” he murmurs under his breath, so quietly you think only your ears heard it. Before you can respond, he gets ahold of himself and gives the order to tie down everything that isn’t secured and for all hands on deck. Veritas and Topaz stumble off first, making quick work of the ship, but you linger by his side a bit longer.

“This is no natural storm, is it?”

“... No,” he responds, his voice clipped as he fights to keep the Lady Luck buoyant. “It isn’t.”

You’re emerging from your quarters when you think you hear a melodic voice drifting over the choppy waves, singing an unknown yet enchanting tune. For all your time spent in taverns and performing in them, you’ve never heard anyone with a voice even close to the one you’re hearing right now. The voice is clear and high-pitched and whoever’s singing hits every note perfectly. You feel yourself go limp and you begin seeking out the voice, even getting up on shaky legs before Veritas yanks you back down. With the last of his strength, he shoves wax into your ears before he too falls victim to the song. Topaz, with her ears safely covered, takes the initiative and with your help, manages to subdue him enough for you to plug his ears. Not an easy task for a man of his size and build actively struggling against your hold.

You’re practically deaf now. All you can hear is the loudest of the waves crashing against the ship’s hull and the thunder booming directly overhead. Topaz roughly shakes you and you manage to make out what she’s saying even with the heavy rain obscuring your vision.

“What about our captain?!”

Ice courses through your veins. She’s right. You were so caught up in saving yourselves that you’ve left your captain completely defenseless. Oh no.

But when you look around, you see your captain still at the helm, seemingly immune to the siren’s song drifting through the air. He fights the ocean at every turn and spins the wheel to and fro as heavy waves tip her from side to side. He eventually manages to stabilize the ship for long enough to where you can get back up on your feet after being thrown around like a rag doll. Long enough for you to lock the rest of the ship up.

You cling to anything you can get your hands on as you slowly make your back to the deck, but it’s surprisingly difficult. Your whole body hurts from being thrown around, your arms are sore from holding onto anything for dear life, and your balance is off. Your feet keep slipping and sliding and when you make your way to the deck, you see why: the Lady Luck’s prow is pointed directly up and you already know what’s going to happen next.

“Hold fast!” shouts Aventurine. In the instant before the ice-cold waters sweep over you, Ratio grabs you and Topaz around the waist and hunkers down in the corner of the deck, gripping the railing with all his strength while you latch your arms around his waist. You manage to squeeze your eyes shut and inhale before the force of the rushing waters hits you. Even with your iron-clad grip around him, the bone-chilling cold temperature of the ocean plunges you head-first into shock and your grip loosens up ever so slightly- just enough for you to be swept away. Your limp body is harshly thrown against a corner- something cracks upon impact and needle-sharp pain shoots up your spine- before another wave lifts you up and over the railing, plunging you into the endless, swirling depths.

“Cap’n! (Name)’s gone overboard!”

The water sloshing around on the deck comes up to his knees now. Aventurine looks down at his legs, then toward the churning seas, then back at his legs. Without any hesitation, he tosses his coat aside and jumps overboard to the astonishment of Topaz and Ratio.

“Captain!”

“You damned gambler! Have you gone insane?!”

Everything sounds muffled and distant as you sink further down and down. Your lungs are burning and your vision is beginning to darken as you gaze up at the hull of the Lady Luck that’s growing smaller.

Is this… it? And just when I think I’ve finally found the life I’ve been searching for…

You think you see something dart by- a fish? No, it’s too big for one. The tail is a shiny lilac but the top half is that of a woman. Silvery hair flows out behind her as she stares at you curiously and you realize it’s a mermaid as she swims away. You gasp out of shock, only to regret it instantly when you begin gasping frantically for air after you accidentally inhale some water. You desperately claw and fight your way to the surface but it’s no use; your legs feel like lead and soon your arms follow.

Right as your consciousness fades and the world goes black, you see a familiar face swimming toward you. Blond hair, multicolored eyes…

Captain? What’re you doing here?

There’s an uncharacteristic regretful look on his face as he gets closer. He says something- you can’t hear it- before he pulls you in gently and kisses you so softly you barely feel the brush of his lips against yours.

A shimmering teal tail, the same kind as the mermaid you saw earlier, is the last thing you see.

You feel something warm and heavy nestled against your side. Two of them, actually.

It feels like you’ve been asleep for a very, very long time. It’s a struggle to open your eyes as if they’ve been sealed shut and your body feels stiff. It’s all too easy to fall back asleep, but…

Upon opening your eyes, you’re greeted with the sight of Numby and Doubloon curled up against you. The former squeals and the latter meows anxiously now that you’re awake. You gently pet their heads.

“... Good morning to you two as well.”

Your voice comes out so hoarse and scratchy you almost get secondhand embarrassment from hearing it. Upon closer examination, you realize you’re in Aventurine’s quarters but there’s no sight of him. You do, however, see Topaz passing by in the door left ajar. She gasps loudly at seeing you moving around and almost drops whatever she’s holding to rush inside.

“You’re awake! Good, we were all so worried, especially Aventurine.”

“Ugh… quiet down a bit please. How long was I out for?”

“Almost a day and a half.”

You slowly shift into an upright sitting position, wincing when you feel a sharp stabbing pain in your chest. Topaz is immediately at your side, helping you up and covering you with furs and blankets when your teeth start chattering uncontrollably. Looks like the chill of the waters penetrated deep into your bones.

“Easy now. You got some nasty injuries when you went overboard, such as a few fractured ribs. Ratio had to be the one to patch you up after Cap’n brought you aboard and-” her words are punctuated with a light-hearted chuckle “-I’ve never seen him so anxious for a person to wake up. Don’t tell him I said that though.”

She leaves and you lift up the handheld mirror on the nightstand, getting the first good look of yourself since almost drowning. You look relatively the same, save for the bruises all over your exposed skin and the sling your left arm is in.

“You’re very lucky that you only got off with some fractured ribs, a broken arm, and a bunch of bruises. You very well could’ve died out there,” says Topaz as she walks back into the room with a warm drink in hand. “Ratio’s words, not mine. Although, he’s right.”

You accept the drink and after realizing what it is, gulp it down eagerly. Hot rum with honey, lemon, and cinnamon. A favorite of yours and a classic remedy whenever someone on the ship falls ill. Topaz makes it the best though.

You stare down at the now-empty cup in your hands, its residual heat warming up your cold hands. It takes a while for your memory to be jogged, but you suddenly remember Aventurine going overboard too.

“Wait, Aventurine, where is-”

“In the bathroom waiting for you. He’s been quite moody ever since returning.”

You think back to when he saved you at death’s doorstep and you loudly gasp when you recall the last thing you saw. Your thoughts must’ve been written all over your face because Topaz merely sighs and takes the empty cup from your hands.

“... I’ll let him explain everything.”

She helps you to your feet and leaves you be. You hesitantly knock on the door and are instantaneously greeted with a “come in” from the other side.

You see why Aventurine has been confined to the bathroom. The first thing you see is a long teal-colored tail shimmering and swaying lazily side to side in the dim candlelight; far too big for the tiny confines of the bathtub your captain is currently soaking in. The fins are long and slightly translucent at the ends as they smack against the floor upon seeing you enter. You stay frozen in place, eyes trailing up from his fins toward his face. The scales that you swear you’d see peeking out underneath his collar sometimes are on full display now. Patches of them are littered across his chest, arms and face. His hands are webbed now and so are his ears tinged green at the tips and peeking out beneath the mess of blond hair. The sharp fins along his forearms slice cleanly through the water as he shifts around and the gills on his neck flare upon seeing you.

He stays frozen in place, watching. And waiting for your reaction. For what feels like eternity, none of you speak or even dare to breathe until you finally make the first move. You shakily laugh and exhale- he jolts at the sound- and you sink to your knees besides him, albeit with some difficulty. When you finally do speak, it’s with a gentle voice as you’re eyeing his tail resting in your lap.

“So that explains it all. And here I was wondering if I was hallucinating seeing you with scales.”

Aventurine lets out a laugh of sheer relief. His shoulders droop and he slouches against the edge of the bathtub, all tension seemingly dissipating from his body. He seems to take notice of your injuries after he’s relaxed. A webbed finger reaches out to lightly trace your arm in a sling and he frowns at the sight.

“... I’m sorry.”

You blink, astonished.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and that’s all he has to say.

“It’s just some broken bones,” you lightly respond. “Inconvenient, sure, but nothing I can’t recover from. Besides, you saved me from certain death.”

“It’s not just about that. I narrowly avoided the nightmare I saw in my dreams, but at what cost?”

He goes quiet and refuses to elaborate. You decide it’s for the better to change the topic.

“So… care to tell me about your tail?”

Aventurine sighs. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this a secret from you forever, but he’s still a bit hesitant to tell you.

“Exposure to waist-deep water gives me legs and vice versa thanks to a deal I made with Jade a long time ago. In exchange for getting to experience life as a human, I would have to bring promising people to her door and continuously supply her with valuables.”

“Jade is a… sea witch?”

Aventurine snorts and scoffs.

“What, did she not seem enough of a conniving witch the first time you met her?”

“Fair enough,” you concede. “But what made you want to experience life on land?”

“It wasn’t a choice.”

“Oh.”

Your eyes land on the tattoo on the side of his neck that’s on full display now. You dare not say what it spells out loud. He scratches at the spot, conveniently covering it with his hand, and silence fills the space for a bit.

“What happened after the storm passed?”

You break the silence first. He seems relieved at the distraction and begins playing with the pearl bracelet fastened around your wrist.

“The storm passed almost as soon as I rescued you. I brought you back to the surface, where-”

“Wait, does that mean Veritas and Topaz know you’re-”

He sighs and nods. You falter a bit.

“... How did they react?”

Aventurine thinks back for a bit.

“I think they were just surprised. I don’t think they’ve fully processed it either.”

He laughs and shrugs.

“I can’t blame them. Their captain and a feared creature among sailors are one and the same.”

He sighs and looks at the closed bathroom door.

“They’ve been giving me a wide berth since then…”

“I’m sure they’ll come around. They just need some more time,” you reassure. “But what happened after that?” you ask, pressing for more information. His tail curls around your waist and swiftly pulls you closer to the bathtub- he’s surprisingly strong in this form, you quickly realize as you squirm around only for him to not budge one bit. You rest your tired head against your arms and gaze at him with half-lidded eyes that he meets unflinchingly with a gaze of his own and a lazy smile.

“Once you’re feeling better, go thank Ratio for his prompt medical care. As soon as I resurfaced, he practically yanked you out of my arms and started treating you. You inhaled quite a bit of water and Ratio had to get you to cough it all out. A bit gross, seeing it unfold in front of my eyes.”

“... You saw it all?” you ask, horrified and disgusted.

His lazy smile turns impish and he flicks some water toward you.

“Ah, you should’ve seen yourself,” he muses out loud. “Flopping around on the deck like a fish out of water and soaked to the point where you looked like Doubloon during bath time. It made for quite the sight- wait, don’t leave!”

He reaches out to you desperately and his tail tightens even more around your waist. You shoot him a withering glare before settling back down again.

“The storm calmed down soon after I saved you,” he continues. “The Lady Luck sustained some damage to the sails and she sprung a few leaks in the hull, but nothing that Ratio and Topaz weren’t able to repair. Later, you woke up and here we are.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Really, that’s it,” he repeats.

“What a coincidence it stops after narrowly escaping death,” you grumble. He rolls his eyes.

“No kidding,” he scoffs.

Aventurine plucks a glimmering scale off and holds it out like a peace offering to you. It shifts between colors in the candlelight, going from pink to green to gold with a holographic sheen covering it. He notices the confused expression you wear and lightly laughs.

“What? Didn’t you know, mermaid scales are exceedingly valuable?”

You hold it closer, entranced by its dancing colors.

“I thought most of the ones on the market are frauds though?”

“That they are. But a real, genuine scale… those are only offered to the richest of the rich at a closed auction.”

“Yet here I am with one in my hand, free of charge.”

Aventurine laughs and plucks off another one for you. A look of hesitation crosses your face.

“... Doesn’t that hurt?”

“A little,” he admits. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle. Besides, they grow back.”

His words do nothing to budge the frown on your face and Aventurine makes a mental note to claim a scale fell off from natural causes the next time he gifts you one.

“How long do they take to grow back then?”

“... A long time,” he confesses after a beat of silence.

“... I see why they’re so expensive now.”

You glance down at the two shining scales in your palm. Perhaps you’ll make jewelry out of them- an earring to match with your captain doesn’t sound half-bad…

But your curiosity is piqued now. Mermaids are the stuff of legends and you have one sitting in front of you. A few questions couldn’t hurt, right?

“What else can you do?”

His tail flicks back and forth excitedly. Anything to impress you!

“We can cry pearls and other valuable jewels. Want to see?”

“Wait, don’t make yourself cry-”

Too late. Fat tears slide down his cheeks, condensing into something round and shiny before landing with a soft clink in his hands. Perfect pearls and tumbled sea glass pile up in his palms and you spot some shiny green stones- aventurine stones. He holds them out to you with an expectant look in his eyes. Your captain looks less of a fearsome mythical creature and more like an… eager puppy. You can’t possibly say no to such a face so with a resigned sigh, you accept his offering.

“... Thank you, but please don’t make this a common occurrence in the future. I don’t want to see you cry.”

He pouts, fins drooping. Boo. There goes a courting attempt out the window.

Like a puppy, you think as you watch him sulk in the bathtub. You poke at one of Ratio’s rubber ducks Aventurine had stolen from him bobbing along the water’s surface.

“You aren’t horrified?” he asks once he grows bored of staring at the duck.

“Why would I be?”

“Don’t give me that. You know exactly what I mean.”

His tail swishes side to side agitatedly and his ears simultaneously flatten against his head and fold downwards.

“Do you realize what I could do to you right now?” he asks in a low tone. “I could pull you under my song, strip you of your defenses, outwit you at every turn despite how clever you are…”

You’re leaning in unknowingly. A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth and he leans in closer, twirling a strand of your hair around a clawed finger.

“I’ll infiltrate your mind and charm you into doing things you’d never think of doing,” he continues, voice even lower and softer now. “I could tell you to walk the plank and you would do it, no questions asked. I could drag you beneath the depths with me and no one would even notice you’re gone. Ah, but you’re already under my spell, aren’t you?”

“... What?”

“Exactly. I could even do… this!”

With a sudden yank, he pulls you into the tub with him. Water splashes over the edge onto the floor and you scream. Even so, he holds tight and winds his tail tightly around you, nuzzling his cheek against yours and nipping your cheeks. They’re love bites more than anything else, but you shudder at the thought of how different the situation could be had he not been so head over heels for you.

You also shudder as the cold water soaks through your clothes and sends a chill up your spine.

“Let me go. The water’s cold.”

Aventurine merely holds onto you even tighter. Tucked into the crook of his neck like this, you can see his gills rapidly opening and closing out of contentment and the self-satisfied smile stretching wide across his face. He seems content to stay in this position for ages, leaning in to bury his nose into your hair and press kisses to your cheek repeatedly, but it’s only until you start shivering that he reluctantly lets go.

Before you step out the tub, he holds his left hand out. You hesitantly extend your right hand out until he gently bats it away and gestures for your left hand instead. It’s bundled in a sling but you manage to make it work somehow.

“There we go,” he says once your palm is pressed against his. “Now, close your eyes.”

You do as he says and thick, syrupy words flow like honey from his mouth. The words practically stick together as his voice rises and falls melodically in some unknown language. It sounds soothing, in the way a mother’s voice would lull a child to sleep.

“There,” he whispers after a peck to your forehead. “All done. You can open your eyes now.”

“What was that?”

“... A prayer,” he admits. “A prayer for your continued health and safety.”

There’s a funny feeling in your stomach and you fight back the stupid smile creeping onto your face.

“You shouldn’t have. But thank you.”

You curl your good arm around him and with a sharp heave, lift him up. His long tail snakes around your waist and you almost fall over from the weight.

“Stop that! You’re heavy!”

“How heartless of you.”

You dunk him back into the bathtub unceremoniously. His tail splits down the middle and scales begin falling off rapidly in patches. The fins shrivel and dissolve and pearly-smooth legs soon emerge. With a start, you try to look away but he merely scoffs and languidly stretches out in your arms.

“What? It’s nothing you haven’t already seen.”

Now fully dressed, Aventurine emerges onto the deck with you in hand. Topaz is playing fetch with Numby and Doubloon while Ratio is at the helm. The two pets, upon seeing you, dash over to you and run in circles around you with Numby oinking and Doubloon meowing excitedly. Topaz all but topples you over in an excited hug while your navigator scolds her, reminding the woman of your frail condition.

“How are you feeling?” asks Veritas as he comes to a stop before you. You hum and beam at him.

“Never felt better thanks to your immediate care.”

He brushes your compliments off with a scoff and a wave of his hand, all accompanied by his usual eye roll.

“Think nothing of it. It was merely my duty.”

Topaz leans against you from behind while Ratio coughs and steps back from you a bit. They eye your captain with the respect and admiration they always have, but now there’s a hint of skepticism underlying it all.

“Gambler, we deserve an explanation for what happened back there,” demands Veritas. Aventurine sighs and shakes his head.

“I know, but that’ll happen in due time. For now, let’s just… keep moving forward.”

He takes the helm. Ratio hoists the sails and Topaz climbs up to the crow’s nest to keep lookout. Things are never going to be quite the same as before now, but that’s alright in your eyes. Everyone boarded the Lady Luck for their own reasons and their captain secretly being a mermaid in disguise doesn’t change any of that. You boarded the ship to carve out a life for yourself you would’ve never had back on land. Ratio boarded to spread knowledge. Topaz boarded to bring change into the world. Your captain has already helped those dreams come true. Nothing the legends say will do anything to sway your opinion on him.

The seas are calm. It’s clear out with a strong breeze that cools you off amidst the sun’s sweltering rays. Ratio is repairing a tear in one of the sails that escaped his earlier attention while Topaz hums a tune she picked up from you atop the crow’s nest, scouting the surrounding waters. You meet Aventurine’s gaze out the corner of your eye. Wordlessly, he pulls you into his side with one arm as you look out upon the ocean.

“Have you accomplished your goal of conquering the seven seas?” you tease. He scoffs and smirks.

“Oh, I did that a long time ago already. But there’s one last desire I have yet to fulfill.”

“And what might that be?”

He gazes down at you silently, yet the silence between you speaks volumes. A raised eyebrow and a head tilt. A cheeky wink and a kiss to your forehead. An exasperated sigh from your two crewmates as you pull away from returning the kiss.

There’s always one question you ask when heading to a new destination, and this time is no different. Gazing into his multicolored eye, you can’t imagine yourself anywhere else other than here, now and forever.

“So where to next, Captain?”

enjoyed my work? the taglist is open!

@ theother-victoria, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai

#🔖 bookmark #🦌 𝓚OUE FAVES !#ALSO HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY!! im sorry for the late greetings 😞💔#it was soo laggy writing this sjsn but I really wanted to add every thought that i have cuz you genuinely deserve it #I’ll reiterate but if you have time to read this PLEASE PLEASE DO from the bottom of my heart this is the best aventurine pirate au fic #i also genuinely feel like i’m missing some thoughts / missing smth from what u want to say but i hope this makes sense? i’m rambling haha

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froggibus · 3 days ago

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Hay, I recently found your stuff on here. I really like your writing. I'm not really sure how the request works? I hope i'm doing it right:)

Can you do DC characters/Batboys finding readers self-harm scar's/marks and how they react

(I've struggled with self-harm off and on for a long time, and at least for me, I've kind of like thinking about how my favorite characters would react/try and support)

Also, if you do, can you do some about Mark some on the thighs. it's hard to find stuff about other then on the arms

Im dyslexic, so I'm sorry if this doesn't make sense.

Leaping Into The Light - Batboys + Wally West

Pairing: Dick Grayson x reader, Jason Todd x reader, Tim Drake x reader, Wally West x reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.4k (Dick), 1.3k (Tim), 1.5k (Jason) and 1.2k (Wally)

Summary: their reaction when they see your old self-harm marks/scars

CW: mentions of self-harm (past), self-harm scars (thighs mostly), awkward conversations, embarrassment, mental health, allusions to depression and suicidal thoughts, injury & blood (not from SH), insomnia, nightmares, Wally walks in on you changing, maybe some corny dialogue, mentions of sensory problems, recovery and healing this is at least the second fic ive wrote where Jason brings you chinese food--no clue why.

hi lovely, hope you're doing alright :) so sorry its taken me so long to get to this, january was a bitch for me. i also struggled on and off with self-harm before starting this blog, so writing this was incredibly personal to me <3 thank you for requesting, and i want you to know that my inbox is always open if you ever need to vent i really wanted to go for a more recovery-based fic where you're healing. i wanted to show that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, it does get better, we do recover. you will be okay.

Dick:

It’s a rare, sunny morning in Bludhaven when you wake up and stretch your limbs. The sunlight filtering through the window catches on the bare length of your arms, casting brilliant patterns across your skin.

A newfound warmth filters through your apartment as you pad across the wooden floors and make your way to the kitchen. The sunlight seems to follow you, dancing across walls, door handles and cupboards as if saying hello.

The sight of Dick Grayson hunched over a laptop greets you at the kitchen island, his black hair almost brown in the morning light.

He offers you a sleepy smile, “I made coffee.”

Your eyes move from his pyjama clad figure to the fresh pot of coffee sitting on the counter, tufts of steam still flowing from its spout. A smile breaks across your face, your eyes falling shut as you inhale the scent of fresh coffee.

Yeah, it’s going to be a good day.

Dick watches you from over the rim of his ‘World’s Best Detective’ coffee mug, blue eyes tracing your figure as you shuffle around the kitchen.

Dick watches as you cut open one of the croissants you’d picked up from the bakery yesterday and slather it in a generous coating of butter. He watches as you open the cupboard above the coffee machine, the one where you guys keep your dishes, and stretch up on your tippy toes to reach your favorite mug.

This is his favorite part of any day—watching you. The soft domesticity of the morning blankets him, soothes him. It’s his daily reminder that there’s still good in the world around him.

His eyes stay on you as your fingers brush the handle of your mug, tugging it towards you little by little. He watches as it slides to the edge, your fingers just barely grasping it and—shit. He watches as the mug falls from the cupboard, shattering on the edge of the counter into a dozen pieces, the largest of which embeds itself in your leg.

Everything happens so fast, you barely have any time to react. The ceramic shard slices through the leg of your pyjama pants and you keel over, clenching the skin of your thigh. The pain is searing and carries an unfortunate familiarity that has tears bubbling up in your eyes.

Dick’s at your side within seconds, an arm wrapping beneath your shoulders to keep you steady. “Are you okay?”

“I think so.” You suck in a breath and risk glancing down at your leg, noting the splotch of red starting to soak through the fabric of your pants.

A sigh slips from your lips. So much for today being a good day.

Dick’s hand wraps around your own, positioning your fingers on either side of the wound. “Here,” he says calmly, “try and apply as much pressure as you can.”

Dick guides you to the bathroom with a steady confidence that only someone who’d trained under Bruce could have. He helps you onto the bathroom counter, your legs splayed out in front of him.

“Keep applying pressure,” he commands.

You watch as he ducks beneath you, rummaging through the cupboard to pull out the first aid kit you’ve seen him use countless times. A weak laugh bubbles up inside of you—usually it’s the other way around.

Dick holds up the kit triumphantly, dark strands of hair bouncing as he stands. He fixes you with a grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes, the familiar blue filled with concern.

You force a smile despite the aching skin of your thigh. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” you assure him. “It's just a flesh wound.”

It’s not the physical pain that has tears pricking your eyes and thoughts racing around your head. No, it’s the reminder that comes with it. The flashbacks of nights spent entirely alone, of nights where the world was too quiet and your thoughts were too loud.

Dick exhales in what seems to be a laugh, the tension in his shoulders falling. “Alright then,” he rubs his thumb along the seam of your pants, “let’s get these off before they get stained even more.”

You’re quick to agree, if only to not make him worry even more. You scoot to the edge of the counter and let Dick hook his thumbs into your waistband. The action is so casual but so intimate, and it has heat rushing through you.

The warm air of the apartment meets the bare skin of your thighs and Dick’s hands still. Realization flashes through you and by instinct alone, you grip the fabric of your pants and try to force it back up your legs. Dick catches your hands in his, gripping them just tightly enough to keep you from moving.

The pain of your wound is forgotten, replaced by a sudden surge of embarrassment. Your gaze lingers on your thighs, on the scarred skin that reminds you of the hardest time in your life.

Your mouth is impossibly dry as you force yourself to look at Dick. You expect disappointment, that annoying older brother look you’ve seen him use a thousand times. You’re wholly unprepared for the softness in his gaze, the kindness and warmth that radiates off him.

“Dick,” you say softly, ready to explain yourself. “It’s not…I’m not—”

You’re thankful when he cuts you off.

“You don’t have to explain yourself.”

You scrunch your nose. “But—”

He brushes a thumb across the faded marks, his touch delicate and firm. “It’s alright. I know what these mean.” A new intensity flickers through his eyes, but as soon as you see it, it’s gone. “Let’s get you patched up.”

Dick kneels down and gets to work soaking up the blood while you stare at his working hands in confusion. You’d told him before about the hard times you went through, the mental state you were in.

That was part of the reason you moved in together—so Dick could help you and keep a better eye on you. But you’d never told him about the self-harm or the scars that speckled your skin.

Yet, his reaction is so normal it has your head spinning.

He finishes wiping up the blood and gets to work disinfecting it. The rubbing alcohol stings but the burn is quickly snuffed out by polysporin.

“It’s been a while.” The words tumble out before you can stop them. “Sometimes I still think about it, miss it, even. That probably sounds strange but…it’s hard sometimes.”

Dick glances up at you but says nothing.

“I-I have bad nights sometimes, and it’s all I can think about. But it helps. Living here with you, I mean. It helps.”

Dick secures a thick piece of gauze over the wound, patting it gently to ensure it stays in place. “You don’t have to hide it, you know.”

“I know, but—” You sigh, letting your eyes flutter shut. “You already have so much on your shoulders, with work and your family and…other things. The last thing I want to do is weigh you down even more.”

He rests his hands on your thighs and levels you with a serious look. “That’s ridiculous. The only thing that would hold me down is knowing that you’re hurting alone. You’re so incredibly important to me, how could you ever think you’d be a burden to me?”

“I don’t know, I just—”

“I want to take care of you, I want to help you.” He traces circles across your skin with his thumb, “I don’t want you dying in the dark, y/n.”

Tears prick your eyes once more, a heavy warmth settling into your chest. “Dick…”

“C’mere.”

He pulls you into his chest, settling between your legs at the counter. One of his hands wraps around your neck, petting the back of your head slowly.

“Just promise me this,” his voice is soft. “If it gets bad and you need help, promise you’ll reach out. Call me, come to me—whatever. We don’t even have to talk about it, just let me help you. Please.”

You nod quickly, burying your face further into his chest. Don’t want you dying in the dark, his words echo inside your head.

Within the warmth of his arms, you can’t help but feel that this is a step forward, and with Dick by your side, you’ll be leaping into the light in no time.

Jason:

It’s midnight when Jason Todd comes banging on your door, takeout bags in hand. Despite the late hour, he still sports his day clothes—grey cargo pants and a black compression shirt over a pair of combat boots.

Setting your book down on the couch, you stumble to the door as quickly as you can, if only to keep his incessant banging from waking your neighbours. You swing the door open and raise an eyebrow, silently demanding an explanation.

“Hey.” He holds out the takeout bags for you to take, “have you eaten yet?”

“At midnight on a Saturday? Yes.”

In spite of yourself, you reach out and take the bags from his hands. You shuffle back into your home, gesturing to him to follow after you.

Jason shuts your door behind him and locks it in one, smooth motion that has you wondering if he’s been here one too many times. You try not to dwell on it, just like you try not to think about how easily he finds a spot on your shoe rack—the same one he always uses—and seats himself on a stool at your counter.

Jason watches while you unpack the takeout, cardboard contains billowing with steam lining your counters. The scent of fresh Chinese food fills the room, a heavy sort of comfort settling over it.

“So,” you say, propping yourself on your tiptoes to reach the last container in the bag, “what brings you over?”

He shrugs, his broad shoulders falling heavily. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Just thought I’d check in.”

A frown flashes over your face but you quickly mask it with a tight lipped smile and a nod. It has been a while, and any hope that Jason wouldn’t notice is immediately snuffed out.

“I’ve had a lot on my plate.”

It’s a half-truth at best but you’re not quite sure what else to say, how else to explain what you’ve gone through lately.

Jason squints, examining you. If it was anyone else, they might not have noticed something was wrong. They probably wouldn’t notice the shadows beneath your eyes, or the slight shake to your hands as you bring out plates and cutlery. If it was anyone else, they’d probably believe you.

But Jason doesn’t.

You get to work dishing up a plate, sucking in a breath when Jason sidles up next to you to dish himself up. The sudden proximity has the breath leaving your body and heat climbing the back of your neck. God—how long has it been since you touched another person? Since you’ve seen another person?

You force the feelings down and finish grabbing your food, making your way to the couch you’ve been rotting on for days. A small stack of books and a few empty glasses scatter the side table—clear evidence of your struggle.

Jason sits at the opposite end of the couch, balancing his plate on his lap. You don’t miss the way his eyes skim over the room, taking everything in. He takes a bite of his fried rice but his blue eyes remain on you.

He clears his throat. “That’s a good one,” he points with his fork at a romance book near the bottom of your pile. “A little racy for my tastes, but the worldbuilding was insane.”

“Something’s a little too racy for you?”

“Hey,” he rolls his eyes, “believe it or not, I do have standards.”

Joy swells in your chest and threatens to bring tears to your eyes. You’ve shut yourself away for so long, you’d almost forgotten what normalcy feels like. But this? You and Jason, eating takeout and talking about books on your couch? That’s the most normal thing in the world to you.

You snort. “Sure you do.”

“I do!” He protests. “I loved the first four books, but that one? My god. Half the book was just them going at it.”

You laugh, your chest aching with longing. You missed this, god, you missed this, One minute you’re laughing over Jason’s review and the next you’re sobbing, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Your voice cracks, a horribly cry ripping free of your throat.

“Woah, woah.”

Jason’s voice is soft, a beacon of light in the sudden storm of emotions that’s gripped you. He sets his plate on the coffee table, scooching down the length of the couch to your side.

“I don’t, I can’t—”

“Hey,” he says calmly, taking your half eaten plate from your hands and setting it on your side table. “It’s alright. Shh, it’s alright.”

You let yourself slump into the couch, your feelings eating away at your physical strength. Jason throws an arm around you, pulling you into his side. The warmth of his body floods you.

You sob and Jason speaks, though you don’t quite catch what he’s saying. The world around you fades to a mosaic of tears and sorrow and guilt. Your heart is so heavy in your chest you worry it might fall out and drag you down with it.

“Talk to me,” Jason says softly. “Please.”

A calloused hand lifts to your cheek, wiping away wet tears. You want to give in to his touch so bad, give into what he’s saying. But how can you take his comfort when you’ve avoided him for weeks? When you’ve pushed yourself so far away that it feels like there’s no hope of coming back?

You tear yourself away from his grip, forcing yourself to your feet. Your hands shake as you turn to face him. When your eyes meet, his are filled with something entirely new to you—concern.

“I-I can’t.”

He sets his jaw. “Why not? You’ve been away from me for so long, you’ve been avoiding me,” he forces himself to keep his voice level. “I just want to know why. I just want to help you.”

His sudden pleading tone has you freezing in your tracks. You look at him seriously, “swear?”

“Swear.”

You sigh and slip your fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants. For a second, you clench your fists, trying to ground yourself. The world around you seems to still as you tug your pants down, shimmying out of them until they lay in a pool around your ankles.

Jason watches silently, his head cocked to the side in visible confusion. It’s only when you self-consciously rub a hand over the skin of your left thigh does he notice.

The breath leaves his body, his lungs squeezing so tight he’s afraid they might burst. He’s no stranger to scars—he has at least a few dozen himself—but these are entirely different.

The scars scatter the surface of both thighs, long and thin. Most are completely healed, some just barely finishing the process. The size, the shape, the distance…intentional is the only word that comes to mind.

Jason feels his heart break in his chest but he can’t bring himself to look away. You’re hurt—you’re hurting, and he can’t do a damn thing to help. “Y/n,” he says softly.

You shrink beneath his gaze. You can’t think of a single time he’s looked at you like this—scared and worried and broken. It has the guilt rising in your throat once more, threatening to suffocate you.

“I’m better,” you try to assure him, your voice hoarse from crying. “I’m getting better. It was bad but—I’m getting better now. I-I’m okay. I swear.”

You wait for him to say something, anything. You wait for the anger, for a lecture about how stupid and dangerous this can be. You wait for him to scoff at your problems.

You’re utterly shocked when Jason falls to his knees in front of you, head tilting up to look at you with an expression you’ve never seen before.

“Jason…”

“This is why you’ve been avoiding me?”

You nod slowly, as if moving slower will keep the ice from breaking.

“Fuck, y/n, why didn’t you—god, you should know that I of all people would understand.” He traces a finger across a particularly fresh scar, “this isn’t something you needed to hide from me. This isn’t something you ever have to hide from me.”

“I—”

“I’m not finished.”

You’re taken aback, the words ripped straight from your mouth.

“Let me help you. Come to me and let me help you. Don’t shut yourself away in the dark and suffer all by yourself.” He runs his fingers through his hair, cracking the ghost of a smile, “god, who are you, me?”

A half-laugh, half-sob leaves you. “I just don’t like bothering people.”

“You think you could annoy me? You overestimate yourself, y/n. The only people who annoy me are Waynes and Wayne-adjacent.”

He rises to his feet in front of you and tugs you into his chest before you can react. His grip on you is tighter than usual, the warmth of his arms threatening to consume you.

“You’ll come to me next time you feel this way, yeah?” He says, and he feels you nod against his chest. “Swear?”

“Swear.”

Tim:

Your chest burns as you sit up in bed, lungs heaving as they try to force some air into your body. Your ribs ache from the way your heart hammers against them.

Rubbing your aching eyes, you force yourself to swing your legs over the side of your bed and reach for your lamp. The light comes on with a click, illuminating the walls of your room. Finally, you manage to take a deep breath, the cold air soothing your burning chest.

It was just a dream. You’re safe here. But the words taste bitter and empty, the images you’d seen while you were asleep still spinning around your head. You rub at the exposed skin of your thighs where the seam of your shorts come to an end. The friction barely manages to warm you among the cold night air.

Before you can even think, your feet are meeting the ground and you’re padding across the room. You hesitate for just a second when your hand meets the door handle, but the hesitation melts into need and you continue on your way.

Your steps are quiet through the hallway, unimposing. When you find yourself facing the closed door, identical to yours, you knock softly. Once, twice, and then the door is swinging open.

Tim stands on the other side, bleary eyed and messy haired from sleep. He yawns, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “Hey,” his voice is raspy, “everything alright?”

“I can’t sleep.”

It’s all you have to say before he’s opening the door as wide as it goes, gesturing you to the disheveled navy covers of his bed spread. The sleepiness fades from his body as he watches you closely, examining your every movement.

Your eyes are red-rimmed and sweat beads along your temples. Despite wearing pyjamas—patterned shorts and a t-shirt that looks suspiciously like one of his—they don’t look wrinkled with sleep like they should be.

Tim frowns. Something’s wrong, and it’s more than not being able to sleep.

He shuffles in after you, closing the door and clicking the lock behind him. His examination continues as he reaches the bed and crawls in next to you. You fit together so easily, so perfectly, it’s hard to believe this is the first time you’ve ever sought him out.

In all the time you’ve known each other, never once have you ever gone to Tim when you can’t sleep. He’s known about your sleep problems for a while, from even before you’d told him. Yet, never once have you asked for his help.

Until tonight.

Tim’s arms fall easily around you, one gently across your waist, the other falling on the side of your thigh. You’re so tired, so shaken from your dream, your head falls easily into his pillows and your eyes flutter shut.

It’s not so much sleep that hits you as much as it is contentment. Tim’s hand trails up and down the side of your thigh, fingers exploring the soft skin while he tries to soothe you to sleep.

His hand shuffles sideways, just a tiny bit more, and then pauses. His fingertips graze something rough, something raised slightly, and the breath leaves his body. His hand trails further and he’s met with another, almost perfectly parallel to the first.

No, it can’t be.

Trying not to startle you, he moves the arm around your waist as slowly as he can. His fingertips make their way up his own body, finding their way to the scar on his abdomen from when he lost his spleen. He swipes his thumb over the area, feeling the rough patch of raised skin.

His other hand trails over your thigh again, feeling the rows of similar skin. For a moment, he swears the world stops turning.

The feeling is unmistakable, and even though it’s dark and he hasn’t laid eyes on them, he knows exactly what they are.

He wraps his arm around your waist once more and pulls you closer. “Y/n,” he whispers.

You whimper, the exhaustion weighing heavily on you. Tim’s hand rubs over the scars on your thigh once more, and suddenly your weariness is replaced with an icy feeling in your veins.

You sit up abruptly, forcing your body away from his.

“Y/n.”

You gasp, looking up at him through teary lashes. You draw your knees into your chest, the pressure helping soothe the sudden cold in your chest. You bury your face between your knees.

The longer Tim stays silent, the worse your anxiety gets. You wait for the familiar cold logic, for the warmth to fall away and the sarcastic, callous detective to show up. You expect it any second.

But Tim does something that surprises you even more.

He wraps an arm around you, letting your head lean on your shoulder, and murmurs, “how long has it been?”

It takes a few seconds for you to gather your bearings and realize what he’s asking. You blink a few times, slowly unfurling your body. Though you know it’s too dark for him to see the scars, you see his eyes fall on your bare thighs anyway.

“A while,” you admit. “It comes and goes.”

He rubs his hand up and down your arm. “Is that why you came to me?”

You swallow, remembering the horrid dream you’d had earlier. “Partially.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

The pet name takes you by surprise, washing away the cold shame that threatened to drown you. You relax further into Tim’s side, relishing in the heat of his body.

“It’s not as bad as it seems,” you say quietly. “I know it’s bad, that I shouldn’t do it. And I try not to. I’ve been really good about that lately. It’s just…”

Tim stays silent as you trail off, trying to find the right words to explain yourself. He keeps rubbing the skin of your arm, as if reminding you that he’s still there.

“Things get hard sometimes. I don’t like asking for help, because I don’t want anyone to think less of me, or think I have problems and—”

“Why would anyone ever think less of you?”

His words stun you out of your speech, every thought you had falling away. You take a few deep breaths, letting them echo around your head.

“God, this is so hypocritical of me but,” he sighs, “there’s nothing wrong with needing support or asking for help. You’re not any worse off because you needed a little comfort on a bad day, you’re not a burden just because you’re hurting.”

“I just—”

“You came to me tonight because you needed comfort, right?” He gestures around the room, “did anything bad happen because of that?”

You shake your head.

“Did I question you at all, or make you feel like it was a problem?”

Realization dawns on you. “No.”

“That’s because it’s not a problem, you’re not a problem. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling, but the first step to feeling better is helping yourself.” He offers you a sleepy smile, “and that’s what you did tonight. You helped yourself by asking for help.”

“Tim…”

“I’m really proud of you for coming to me tonight, y/n. Whether it was consciously or not.”

A stray tear rolls down your cheek, his kind words washing over you in waves.

“Keep coming to me when you need it. Let me shoulder your problems with you. Please.”

The sudden plea catches you off guard and suddenly more tears are falling down your face. You wrap your arms around Tim and let your head fall into his shoulder, burying your face into the side of his neck.

He holds you tighter, letting you cry it all out.

Wally:

The sound of rain on your window seems to taunt you as you struggle out of your soaking wet jeans. The fabric sticks to your skin, chafing as you try to force it away from the chilled skin of your legs.

As if the sudden torrential downpour that had ruined any hopes of a morning breakfast run wasn’t bad enough, now you seemed to be forever trapped in your sensory nightmare—wet denim. A groan of frustration leaves your lips as you abandon your jeans and instead tug away the sopping fabric of your t-shirt.

Goosebumps rise across your damp skin the minute the air touches it. You shiver slightly and wrap your arms around yourself, stumbling across the room to find a sweatshirt.

You settle on one you’d stolen from Wally months ago that you’re partially convinced he’d stolen from Dick. Still, the worn cotton warms your skin as you make the trek across your room and to the full-body mirror resting against a wall.

You use the guidance of your reflection to peel away your jeans, shimmying awkwardly until finally the heavy fabric gives way. They land in a wet plop on the floor, splattering water that you can’t be bothered to clean up.

Just as you turn away from the mirror, one of the shiny scars on your thigh catches the light and draws your attention back to it. You frown, pulling the marked skin of your leg tight, examining the scars in the mirror.

Most are small and thin, luckily not bad enough to leave more than a faded, dark mark on the skin. You cringe at the ones that are worse—raised and puffy and shiny in the centre. They’re still healing, you remind yourself.

“Hey, no way you’re still changing in here—” the door clicks open and Wally’s voice trails off.

You whip your head to him, watching as he stumbles into the room. A flush falls across his face. His eyes trail over you, tracing your figure, falling onto your underwear and the uncovered skin around it.

Wally freezes, green eyes glued to the scars you’d just been examining. His brows scrunch together, his lips twisting into a frown.

Oh, goddamn.

Any other time, Wally would feel mortified—and somewhat blessed—to walk in on you changing. He’d cover his eyes and stumble around awkwardly, mumbling out some goofy apology laced in innuendos.

It’s clear now from the frown on his face and the hard set solemnity in his eyes that that Wally is gone.

He’s at your side before you can react, falling to his knees in front of you. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Did someone—”

His words trail off, his face falling as realization dawns across his features. He traces a thumb across the biggest of the scars and you swear you see tears prick at his eyes.

“Wally, it’s not—”

“It’s not what?” He looks up at you seriously.

And you pause, reconsidering your words. Wally’s always been the kind one, the goofy one, the comedic relief. It’s rare that you see him serious, rare that he wavers like this.

You lower yourself to the ground beside him, cringing at the unpleasant cold meeting the bare backs of your legs. Wally keeps his focus on your thighs, fingers tracing over every scar, every mark, like he could somehow erase them.

You stay entirely still next to him, letting him calm himself with your touch. “It’s not really something I do anymore,” you say quietly.

His hand stills, the warmth of his clammy palm resting on your upper thigh. In any other situation, it would feel intimate. But right now, all it feels like is a slap to the face.

“I still have bad days, but I manage. This,” you gesture to your skin,“was a last resort. I know it looks bad, really bad, and that it probably seems so—so stupid compared to what you face and—”

His voice is barely a whisper. “It’s not stupid.”

You scrunch your nose. The normal, goofy Wally you’d just gotten caught in a rainstorm with is gone, and you’d give anything to bring him back right now.

“You don’t have to be a superhero to be hurt, y/n.” He clasps your hand tightly. “I know I joke a lot but I am capable of being serious. Especially when the people I love are concerned.”

He looks at you so intensely when he says the word love that it sends shivers down your spine. You can’t bear to meet his gaze. His hands find your waist, tugging you to sit between his legs. It scares you how easily you settle into him, how well you fit together.

You sit in silence for a moment, letting the beat of his racing heart thump against your back.

“I can’t stand to see you hurt, or know that you were hurt. Emotionally, physically, whatever.”

“I’m doing okay now,” you offer him a weak smile. “It’s rough sometimes, but I’m okay now.”

His shoulders slump slightly, but his jaw remains clenched in an un-Wally way. You can’t help but wish in this moment that you could have his powers, if only so you could run to the past and stop this from happening.

“You could’ve told me. I might have made a few stupid jokes but you could’ve told me. God, I want you to tell me. I want you to want to tell me.”

“Wally.”

“I want to help you, y/n. Always. Please,” he sighs, “please, want my help. Let me make you want my help.”

And for a moment, you see a glimpse of an awkward teenager. You see a yellow costume and a scared kid just trying his best to help people. To save people. You see sleepless nights and the burden of a power that makes him both the fastest man alive, but never fast enough to save the people who matter most to him. To save you.

“I just don’t know where to start,” you admit quietly.

He wraps his arms tighter around you, crushing your body against his. “You start here. You start today. You start with me.”

You cross your arms over his in what you hope is a gesture of affection.

“Say the word,” he leans in so his mouth is only inches from your ear, his voice dropping an octave, “and I’ll be there for you as soon as you need me. Ask for my help and I’ll be there in, well, a flash.”

You can’t help but laugh at his pun. It’s dumb and silly and so unserious for such an uncomfortable, serious moment. But it’s Wally and it’s you and his joke has you thinking that maybe, maybe things really can be okay.

“I care about you so much. All I want is for you to be happy. Got it?”

“Got it,” you echo.

He plants a soft kiss on the top of your head before loosening his grip on you, rising to his feet. He offers you a hand, helping you stand up.

“Now,” he grins, “let’s say we forget the pants, and order in some breakfast, hm?”

thanks so much for reading! ^^

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