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fandomfablesunleashed · 4 months ago

Text

Out in the Open

Law x reader (she/her) ft. Heart Pirates

Part of the Polar Tang Chronicles but can be read as a standalone! (They're all just various one-shots featuring the Reader, Law, and the Heart Pirates)

Summary: Your crew discovered that you and Law are closer than you seemed when the two of you stumbled out disheveled of his quarters one morning due to the ship’s alarm. After the battle, Law left, leaving you to endure the crew’s relentless teasing—which eventually escalated a bit too far.

Tags: suggestive, obvious mentions of sex (but no smut), nudity, hickies mentioned, swearing, teasing, kinda crack, a bit angsty

Words: 6k

Notes: I had a lot of fun writing that one! I considered using it for a longer fanfic, but the one I’m currently working on (which will take a while to complete) doesn’t quite match this vibe. Still, I’m thinking about doing more one-shots with this kind of atmosphere—just some daily life moments with Reader, Law, and the Heart Pirates. I already have outlines for two: one where Penguin and Shachi accidentally walk in on Reader and Law, and another where Reader gets tipsy with Ikakku (I'm more than open to your suggestions)

English is not my first language

Masterlist

You woke up, nestled under the covers and enjoying a morning of quiet bliss. You snuggled closer to the warm body next to you. Law.

“Morning,” he rasped, kissing your collarbone tenderly.

You hummed happily in response, exposing your neck to him, and he quickly took advantage and started putting his lips all over it. His hands moved to explore your naked skin slowly. You tilted your head to capture his lips in a gentle kiss. You both made out lazily, taking your time to relish one another. Soon the room was filled with the sounds of quiet moans and sighs, passion building with every touch. Lost in the sensations, you were completely oblivious to the world outside your small haven.

Then, the sudden blaring of the alarm shattered the peaceful atmosphere. You both jolted upright, the reality of the situation crashing down on you like a bucket of cold water. The moment of intimacy was gone, replaced by an urgent need to spring into action.

You and Law hurried out of the captain's lodgings, your attires randomly assembled of whatever clothes had been within reach. You couldn't take the time to look presentable; the ship's alarm was a call to action, and you had to respond quickly.

As you stepped into the hallway, Law's expression was grim; his mind already focused on the impending danger. You took your gaze from him, and you regretted it immediately as you found yourself face to face with a few of the crew members. Their eyes darted between Law and you, taking in your disheveled state, and a murmur of surprise and recognition rippled through the group.

Law clenched his jaw, cursing silently as he realized your secret was out. With a stern glare, he stepped forward, taking charge of the situation.

“Alright, listen up! We don't have time to waste ogling. We've got a dangerous situation on our hands, and we need to spring into action now.”

Law's voice cut through the commotion, commanding and resolute, as he issued orders to prepare for battle. The air was charged with tension as the submarine broke the surface, and without hesitation, you leapt onto the deck alongside your crewmates.

As the ships closed in, the sounds of battle began to swell. The creak of wood, the sharp clang of blades, and the guttural cries of the enemy pirates filled the air. They swarmed over the rails, swords, and other weapons gleaming as they poured onto the deck.

Law stood at the helm, calm and focused, his sharp gaze tracking every movement below. You stood beside him, gripping your weapon tightly, a determined edge in your eyes. For a brief moment, his eyes met yours.

“Be careful.”

“You too.”

With that, you plunged into the chaos.

The Heart Pirates fought with fierce determination, refusing to give an inch to the invaders. Swords clashed, bodies collided, and the deck became a storm of violence. Law, as always, took the lead, enforcing his Devil Fruit power and cutting through the most dangerous foes with a precision that left no room for error.

By the time the battle ended, the enemy was in full retreat, their ship disappearing over the horizon. Slowly, the commotion on the deck eased, and cheers broke out. The crew’s voices rose together, celebrating their victory as they let the weight of the battle fall away.

“You okay?” Law asked, standing next to you.

“Yeah,” you replied, a weary smile curving on your lips. “You?”

“I'm… fine,” He reached out a hand, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “You fought well,” he murmured quietly, his eyes searching yours.

A sudden change in the air made him stiffen. He became acutely aware of the crew’s eyes on you both—the knowing smirks, the exchanged glances, the not-so-subtle winks. He shifted uncomfortably, his face flushing.

Clearing his throat, he straightened, his usual composure snapping back into place. “Alright, everyone. You did well,” Law said, his voice firm and commanding once more. “Let's get this mess cleaned up, and everyone back to their duties.” And just like that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

You were used to the attention and the rumors that swirled about Law and you. Over time, you had learned to ignore them, to let the speculation roll off your back. But after being caught in a compromising position earlier, you felt awkward and exposed. A pang of irritation flared as Law disappeared below deck, leaving you to the inevitable onslaught of teasing remarks from the crew. You understood his need for privacy, but it still stung a little that he had left you there to deal with the crew's prodding alone.

“So�� how do you feel about the captain?” Sachi asked with a smirk.

“That he is being an ass,” you muttered angrily, starting to clean up, hoping it would allow you to leave soon.

The crewmates snickered at your insult.

“Damn,” Penguin remarked with a grin. “It's the first time I've heard someone call the captain an ass and live to tell the tale.”

“I guess being the captain’s lover has its perks. You can get away with more than most.”

You bristled at that comment. Law was a strict captain, and you knew that others respected him. Being able to call him an 'ass' and getting away with it did feel satisfying, but you certainly didn’t appreciate the implication that whatever you had with Law granted you special privileges.

You felt exhausted, and you didn't have the energy to argue with them. Instead, you let out a weary sigh, your shoulders slumping slightly as you snapped back at the crew member who had spoken. “Can you just shut up and do your job?” You felt hot and embarrassed as you unzipped your hoodie a bit, looking around to busy yourself with something.

The crew members laughed at your response, clearly enjoying the chance to tease even more.

“Oh, is that something you told the captain this morning, too?” someone immediately jibed.

Your frustration boiled to the surface. “You guys suck.”

But as soon as the words left your mouth, Penguin quipped back, “Not as good as the captain on your neck this morning.”

You froze, your eyes widening in shock, and your hand instinctively reached up to touch your neck, where Law had indeed spent a lot of time just this morning. You hadn't even had a chance to look in the mirror yet, and now you realized that unzipping your hoodie, or actually Law hoodie, which you noted with a mental curse now, was a wrong move.

Ikkaku cast you a sympathetic glance. “Yeah, we can see those hickies,” she noted with a wry smile.

“We would have to be damn blind not to notice them.” Shachi instantly added.

Penguin grinned cheekily and chimed in. “Who knew Captain was such a sucker.”

The crew members continued their teasing, their jokes, and comments, escalating with every word. You felt as if you were drowning in a sea of ribbing, and you just couldn't take it any longer. You spun around and stalked away, leaving the laughing crew behind.

As you stormed off, you overheard a puzzled Bepo comment, “I don't know why everyone is making a big deal out of this. She's been staying with the captain for months now.”

“What?!”

“You didn't know that?”

“None of us did!”

You sought sanctuary in your and Ikkaku's room, isolating yourself from the rest of the crew for the remainder of the day. Various crew members came by, attempting to apologize through the door, but you refused to speak to anyone but Ikkaku.

You heard their voices through the door, their tones ranging from apologetic to pleading.

“Oh, come on, we were just teasing.”

“We're happy for you, really.”

“Come out, will you?”

“We're sorry, okay?”

You were not the only one avoiding everyone. Law was also absent, and nobody managed to catch a glimpse of him. The crew was left wondering how to mend the situation, and after a while, they came to a consensus. Someone needed to speak to Law and try to smooth things over.

And that's how Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin, Law's longest serving crewmates, and closest friends, found themselves standing outside his room. Summoning his courage, Bepo finally raised a trembling paw and struck the door with a soft, tentative knock.

There was a pause before Law's voice echoed through, a grumpy and dismissive, “I'm busy.”

The trio exchanged nervous glances, their resolve faltering for only a moment before Bepo mustered his courage once more. “We need to talk to you, captain. It's important.”

Another moment of silence followed, and then they heard Law's resigned grunt. “Fine. Come in.”

They pushed open the door cautiously, their gazes darting nervously around the room. Law leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow raised in mild irritation. “Everything alright?”

Penguin spoke up hesitantly. “No, not really,” he began. “I mean, the ship is fine, and we're not being attacked, but there's something else…”

“What? Just say it.”

Shachi rolled his eyes. “Come on, Captain, we need to talk about what happened this morning.”

Law immediately rejected the notion. “No, we don't,” he said, his shoulders tensing, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Yes, we do, and you're gonna listen to us.” Undeterred by Law's expression, he continued, “You shouldn't have just left her alone with us after a fight.”

Law remained impassive, his voice cool and matter-of-fact. “I had to take care of something, and I didn't think I was needed there,” he reiterated. “You guys were supposed to clean, and I had other matters to attend to.”

Penguin chimed in, his expression slightly sheepish. “Yeah, you were… You left after we all knew what happened in the morning, so of course we turned to We teased her, and I guess we took it a bit too far.”

Law clenched his jaw. He didn't need a lecture on how to handle his life, and he definitely didn't appreciate his crew sticking their noses in his business.

But the trio wasn't finished yet. Bepo's worried gaze met Law's, his tone earnest as he added, “She didn't take it well, Captain. She locked herself in her room.”

Law's voice remained steady, feigning indifference as he asked, “So you want me to punish her for skipping out on her chores?”

Gasps of disbelief erupted from the trio.

“What, no!” Shachi barked. “Are you insane?”

“Yeah! What is wrong with you?” Penguin added, his tone incredulous.

Bepo took a deep breath, trying to reason. “You need to talk to her, Captain. And to us—your crew.”

Law's reply was curt and final. “It’s a private matter.”

Penguin wasn’t having it. “No, it’s not. Not anymore. But the crew’s okay with that—we’ve talked about it.”

Shachi nodded, his tone firm. “More than fine with it. We know you’ve been worried about what we’d think. But here’s the thing: we’re happy.”

“Yeah,” Penguin pitched in. “You’ve been dancing around each other for too long.”

“And honestly? It was getting annoying,” Shachi added.

Bepo’s voice softened, but his words carried weight. “We want you to know we support you, Captain.”

Law blinked, their bluntness catching him off guard. Despite their sincerity, he still hesitated. “Is that so?”

The trio nodded in unison, their expressions hopeful.

Shachi stepped forward, crossing his arms as he locked eyes with Law. “Well, it needed to be said,” he stated firmly. “We know how you are, Captain. You could sit here for weeks if we let you. But we can’t let her suffer any longer.”

Law repeated, almost incredulously, “Suffer?”

Shachi shrugged apologetically. “We couldn’t speak to her personally,” he admitted, glancing toward the others. “But Ikkaku told us she’s obviously humiliated—not just by us, but by you, too.”

“You just left her there,” Penguin added, his tone stained with guilt as he stepped closer. “And you haven’t spoken to her since. She thinks you’re ashamed of—”

“Of course I’m ashamed,” Law interrupted sharply, sitting forward as his jaw tightened even more. “That should have never happened. You shouldn’t have seen us like that.”

Penguin picked up his sentence. “No, she thinks you are ashamed of her,” he clarified, his voice trailing off awkwardly.

Shachi frowned, his usually lighthearted expression turning uncharacteristically serious. “Ikkaku said she thinks she was forcing herself on you. That you only gave in because you were lonely,” he explained, his voice lowering. “And now everyone knows, and she feels embarrassed and pitiful.”

Law’s chair scraped slightly as he pushed back, his voice rising in outrage. “What? That’s absurd!” he exclaimed, shaking his head. His clenched fists rested on the armrests, knuckles whitening as he struggled to contain his mounting exasperation. The thought of you feeling that way—that you thought he was ashamed of you—sent a sharp pang through his chest.

“Yeah, we figured as much,” Penguin said, cutting through the tension. “But she doesn’t know that, Captain. You need to remind her she’s more than that.”

Shachi leaned forward, his tone pressing yet sincere. “She is more, right, Captain?”

Bepo’s warm, worried voice followed, his eyes searching Law’s face. “You did tell her, didn’t you? That she’s more?”

The room fell deathly quiet, the three of them staring at Law, waiting for a response. He sat frozen, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions he couldn’t quite organize. A subtle tremor ran through his hand as he clenched and unclenched his fist.

Shachi's voice cut through the silence. “You're awful,” he said bluntly. “You need to tell her.”

“I can't,” Law said, looking away.

“Why not?”

Law’s lips parted, and for a moment, he hesitated. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but raw, laced with an uncharacteristic vulnerability. “Because… I can’t lose her.”

The words lingered in the air, a heavy confession that seemed to sap the strength from him. His crewmates stood still, the weight of the admission sinking in. They had known Law for years, long enough to understand the fear buried beneath his stoic exterior. This wasn’t just about pride or embarrassment. This was about the scars of loss he carried, the pain he feared reliving.

After a brief pause, Penguin spoke up. “Well, we can't promise you that,” he stated, his words heavy with the acknowledgment of the uncertainty of the future.

Shachi nodded, his expression softening. “But she doesn’t want to leave you, Captain. That much we’re sure of.”

Bepo added, his voice solemn yet earnest, “And besides, she always says that life is a 'f*cking nightmare,' full of pain, and that you never know when you're going to die, so you should cling to every single small moment of happiness.”

Shachi and Penguin turned to Bepo, their mouths falling open in shock. Penguin gawked at him. “Wow, Bepo,” he said, his voice tinged with disbelief. “I’ve known you forever, but I’ve never heard you swear.”

Bepo’s face flushed under the sudden attention. “I was quoting!” he stammered, his ears flicking nervously. “The point is, if you won’t listen to us, maybe you should listen to her. You deserve some happiness too, Captain,” he finished, his eyes locking with Law’s.

Law's expression eased as he heard Bepo's words. The crew's support, combined with the reminder that your wisdom echoed their sentiment, struck a chord within him. He couldn't deny the truth in their words, even if fear still held him back.

The silence stretched once more, thick with emotion. Finally, Penguin broke it hesitantly. “Um, Captain?”

Law straightened, his usual composure returning. “There will be an obligatory meeting in two hours,” he said, his voice firm and commanding once more.

Bepo tilted his head. “Everyone?” he asked tentatively, unsure if Law meant to include you.

Law’s reply was curt and resolute. “Yes. Everyone. Now go.”

The crew spread the word about the meeting, making their way to the girls' dormitory. Shachi rapped on the door, and moments later, Ikkaku appeared, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“The Captain called for an obligatory meeting,” Shachi informed her. “Everyone needs to attend.” He craned his neck slightly, calling out into the room, “That means you too.”

From within, your voice drifted toward them, muffled by the pillow. “Yeah, yeah, I figured.”

Ikkaku gave a short nod and closed the door with a click. Turning toward you, she crossed her arms and regarded you thoughtfully. “You should shower first,” she suggested gently.

Sprawled across your bed, you rolled your eyes, a wry smirk tugging at your lips. “Thanks, Ikka,” you quipped with playful sarcasm. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

Despite the joke, you couldn’t hide the flicker of vulnerability. It was brief, but enough to betray the pressure, you were feeling about the upcoming meeting—and the emotional mess still simmering just below the surface, threatening to spill over.

Taking Ikkaku’s advice, you trudged to the bathroom and showered, the hot water doing little to wash away your apprehension. When you returned to the room, your skin still damp and your hair wet, you began to change.

You couldn't help but notice Ikkaku’s gaze lingering on you. Sharing a room—and a shower room—meant you were no stranger to Ikkaku’s teasing observations, but this time, her stare felt particularly pointed.

You raised an eyebrow, turning to face her. “Okay, I know you’ve said my boobs are awesome, but the staring’s a bit much, don’t you think?” you remarked, your voice dripping with sass as you shot her a look.

Unfazed, Ikkaku smirked, leaning back against the wall with casual ease. “Sorry,” she said, not sounding even a little apologetic. “I was just curious to see how far those hickeys go.”

You froze, the memories of your night—and morning—with Law surfaced unbidden, leaving you momentarily speechless.

“Don’t you have something better to do than ogling me?”

Ikkaku’s grin widened as she shrugged nonchalantly. “Not really,” she admitted. “Besides, your face right now? Totally worth it.”

Feeling a mixture of resignation and embarrassment, you let out a grunt. There was no escaping it now. Slowly, with reluctant resolve, you pulled away the towel, letting it fall to the side. The marks Law had left on your skin—bold, unmistakable—were now fully exposed.

Ikkaku’s grin widened, her eyes shamelessly scanning the array of hickeys decorating your breasts and stomach. She didn’t bother hiding her amusement

“Wow,” she remarked. “Someone likes to sign their work.”

Despite the wave of mortification, a small smirk crept to your lips. There was something strangely endearing about her playful commentary, even if it only added to your flustered state. Her carefree attitude was a stark contrast to the chaos of emotions you were still sorting through.

But as your mind wandered, it inevitably turned back to Law. The marks on your skin were his. Each one a bold reminder of the moments you’d shared. He had never been one for public displays or openness, and the way he had left you to handle the aftermath of the crew’s discovery. Well, it stung.

You turned away and began dressing, methodically slipping on your bra before pulling a tank top over your head and following it with your uniform. Your movements were controlled, almost mechanical, as though each action was part of a ritual to compose yourself. Hands trembling slightly, you reached for the zipper of your uniform and drew it up all the way to your neck—a rare act of modesty for you.

With the uniform now in place, you grabbed a bottle of concealer from the desk and leaned toward the small mirror affixed to the wall. Your eyes narrowed in concentration as you dabbed and blended the makeup over the hickeys that still were visible on your neck, working meticulously to erase any evidence of your time with Law.

Behind you, Ikkaku’s grin remained fixed on you.

“So, is he good?” she asked bluntly.

The question caught you off guard. Your eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, you found yourself staring at her through the mirror, unsure how to respond.

“Oh, come on,” she added before you could gather your thoughts, rolling her eyes dramatically. “We’ve been pretending I didn’t know for months. At least give me something.”

A groan escaped you as you turned to face her. Yet, under her persistent gaze, you relented. “Fine, he’s… amazing,” you admitted. The words slipped out more easily than you expected, “I know, I know—you’ll say I’m biased, but he really is. Or it really is,” you added, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips as the memory resurfaced. “I never knew sex could be that good.”

Your cheeks flushed anew as the words left your lips, the vivid recollection making it impossible to hide your emotions. Ikkaku raised a brow, her interest clearly piqued by your admission.

“You’ve had sex with other people before, though,” she pointed out.

You nodded, your expression growing more contemplative as you thought back on those past experiences. “Yeah, and it was nothing compared to that.”

The teasing edge in her voice had faded, replaced by genuine curiosity. “It was good, or good because it was him?”

Your breath hitched slightly at her question, the double meaning not lost on you. The intensity of your feelings threatened to bubble to the surface, but you kept your composure. She wasn’t just asking about the physical act; she was probing deeper, into the raw feelings you had for him.

After a brief pause, you answered. “Both,” you confessed, the honesty in your words both exhilarating and terrifying. “It was good, and it was good because it was him.”

“Well, I’m glad for you.”

You sighed, shaking your head slightly, your smile fading. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t matter now.”

“Why not?” she asked, leaning forward slightly.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, the familiar weight of resignation settling over you. “Because, obviously, it won’t be happening anymore,” you replied flatly.

“You can’t know that.”

You scoffed, shooting her a skeptical look. “Oh, I think I know,” you muttered. He left. He must be ashamed, and therefore it definitely won’t be happening again.

“No,” she said again. “You don’t know that. You can’t know that.”

A lump formed in your throat as her words lingered in the air. You tried to brush them off, letting out a heavy sigh. “I… Let’s just get to this meeting,” you murmured, the finality in your tone signaling an end to the conversation. You didn’t want to think about it anymore, didn’t want to admit that, despite your words, you couldn’t stop the hope that maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t truly over.

Law arrived, his commanding presence as steady as ever, and began by addressing the crew in his usual manner. He outlined the agenda for their imminent arrival on the island, detailing their expected conduct and assigning responsibilities with precise efficiency.

You sat among the crew, listening with a stoic expression, but your mind reeled with the weight of recent events. The words spoken seem distant, their meanings muted by the emotional turmoil swirling within you. Law’s voice remained firm and unyielding, yet there was a subtle trace of concern in his eyes each time his gaze landed on you.

After finishing the official agenda, Law cleared his throat, his posture shifting slightly. “There’s another matter we need to discuss,” he stated.

Your body tensed as the weight of his announcement settled over the room. The earlier incident—he’s going to talk about it. Your pulse quickened, the anticipation prickling your skin as you wondered what he'd say and how it would alter the fragile balance you felt.

As the eyes of your crewmates gravitated toward you, the sensation of being exposed made you want to disappear. Their curiosity, though unspoken, was palpable. Yet, amidst it all, there was one pair of eyes you could count on not to meet yours. Law. You couldn't help but wonder if his avoidance was deliberate.

Finally, he spoke, “I was informed by Shachi, Bepo, and Penguin that there are no objections to this… relationship.” His pause was short but meaningful—an awkward silence that made you feel every beat of your heart in your chest. The word relationship hanging in the air. For just a split second, his eyes locked with yours in a way that felt both like a test and a question. “Is that correct?”

The crew’s response was instantaneous and resounding.

“Not at all!”

“We’re all happy for you!”

“It should have happened sooner!”

“We’re more than fine with it!”

You leaned closer to Ikkaku and whispered. “Did he just say relationship, or am I delusional?”

Ikkaku chuckled. “You heard him right,” she confirmed.

The reality of the moment began to sink in, the word relationship replaying in your mind. It felt surreal to hear Law speak of your connection so openly. Your heart fluttered, caught between happiness and nervousness as you processed this unexpected declaration.

Relationship. Did he just make it official—without asking you first? You’d expect irritation, but instead, you felt a surprising sense of ease. There was comfort in knowing where you stood, even if it wasn’t in the way you imagined it.

Then, his gaze met yours once more. His expression remained guarded, but there was vulnerability in his eyes as he waited for your reaction. Without thinking, you offered him a soft, reassuring smile and a nod, a silent gesture of understanding that passed between you.

His shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly, and for a tiny moment, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips—a smile so subtle it might have been missed by anyone else. But to you, it was enough to make your heart skip a beat. Then, as quickly as it came, it vanished.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said firmly, addressing the crew once again. “Don’t go overboard with it. If any concerns arise, come to me directly.”

He paused for a moment before adding. “This is a private matter, and it will remain that way. Don’t get too curious, and no discussions about it outside this ship. Understood?”

There was a collective murmur of agreement from the crew. You found yourself nodding along with them, a wave of relief washing over you at the boundaries he had so clearly set.

Then, just as the mood began to shift back toward normalcy, Law added with a small, wry smile, “I’d also like to forbid all talks on the ship, but I don’t believe in miracles.”

A ripple of light laughter spread through the crew, the tension dissipating as the humor in his words broke the ice. Even you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, the absurdity of the situation settling in.

“Now, I’ve heard that instead of focusing on cleaning as I directed, some of you were too busy gossiping and fooling around. As punishment, everyone will be cleaning the storage room.”

A collective groan rose from the crew, though none dared protest. Law had chosen this task with deliberate precision, fully aware that it was necessary, yet highly unpleasant—and that no one would volunteer for it willingly. By dividing the work into smaller groups, he ensured not only efficiency but also a shared misery, a kind of collective suffering that made the burden just a little easier to bear.

Once the commotion died down, Law turned to you. His tone remained firm and impartial. “Besides you. But for missing work earlier, you’ll take an extra shift cleaning the kitchen.”

Cleaning the kitchen was your least favorite task, and everyone on the ship knew it. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to feel resentment. Law was fair; everyone else faced consequences for missed duties, and he was showing you no favoritism. The consistency in his decisions left you feeling unexpectedly grateful.

With the meeting concluded, Law’s voice rang out one final directive. “That’s all. Everyone, return to your tasks.”

Usually, he would walk away immediately, but this time, he lingered. His gaze scanned the room, ensuring no one had the chance to approach you as the crew dispersed.

As you turned to leave, you felt the light pressure of a hand on your shoulder. Startled, you glanced back to find Law standing close. His voice dropped to a quiet murmur, so only you would hear him. “Come to me when you’re done. We need to talk.”

You arrived at Law's door later, your heart beating slightly faster in anticipation of the conversation ahead. Knocking gently, you heard his voice inviting you in. Moving with practiced ease, you crossed the room and settled into your usual seat across from him, as you took a moment to compose yourself.

“I can’t believe you did that,” you said, referring to Law’s earlier declaration at the meeting.

Law smiled tenderly, a rare expression reserved just for you. “I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner,” he murmured, the apology carrying a depth of sincerity that made your heart flutter. He paused, his eyes searching yours as he asked, “Are you okay with it?”

It was more than just a simple question. Taking a deep breath, you gathered your thoughts and responded, “I’m… surprised.” You paused for a moment, mustering the courage to voice your true feelings. “But… yes, I’m okay with it. More than okay.”

Law’s eyes locked onto yours, and you caught the relief and joy in his gaze. Your words—more than okay—settled the doubts that had crept into his mind. He let out a small sigh, the tension leaving his body.

For a moment, the room hung in silence, but then you couldn’t help yourself. A playful pout formed on your lips as you shifted in your seat, adding with feigned annoyance, “I’m still a little mad, you know. For leaving me there like that.”

Law’s response was matter-of-fact, his voice composed. “I know. I didn’t do it intentionally. I just didn’t see the point of sticking around.” There was a hint of nonchalance as he added, “I got injured a bit during the battle—didn’t want anyone making a fuss over me.”

That…. Your eyes widened in disbelief, anger, and concern flooding you. “Law!”

He chuckled lightly, his tone soothing as he hastened to reassure you. “I’m fine, I am. I swear.”

Crossing your arms, you murmured, “You better be.” Then, exasperated, you added, “You should’ve told me.”

“You weren’t visiting me…”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to…”

The room fell silent, the weight of your words sinking in. Law studied your face, the truth behind your statement hitting him. He realized how his actions might have led you to that conclusion, and guilt welled up inside him. His voice was quiet as he replied, “You were wrong.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

Law let out a long, deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I should’ve been clearer,” his voice carrying a note of regret. “I shouldn’t have left you hanging like that.” He paused, considering his next words. “I didn’t want anyone fussing over me, especially not you. I didn’t want you to worry—”

“You can’t just avoid everyone when you’re injured. Especially not me. I… I care about you, you know that.”

“I know, I know,” he conceded, “I just… I didn’t want to be a burden. And it wasn’t anything serious.”

“You’re not a burden. You could never be a burden to me.” Leaning forward, you held his gaze. “Even if it wasn’t serious, you should’ve told me.”

“I probably would’ve told you if you’d visited me. You know, I usually tell you everything. If you’d come to check on me, I would’ve spoken up eventually.”

“You’re impossible sometimes, you know that?” you said, though there was no real anger in your voice. “You shouldn’t have left me there with the crew after they found out about us. I… I thought you were ashamed of me, that I was just some dirty little secret…”

“No. I’m not ashamed of you, not at all.” His voice was steady, but there was something raw beneath the surface he was desperately trying to hide. “You’re more than that. You’re…” He faltered, struggling with the words he wasn’t used to saying.

You could see the effort it took for him to be this open, to lay bare even a fraction of what he felt. Not wanting to see him wrestle with himself, you offered a soft smile, your voice gentle. “You don’t have to say anything. I get it.”

Still, the air between you felt different now. You let out a small, nervous laugh, shifting slightly. “So… I guess that means we’re official now, huh?” A shy smile played on your lips.

“I suppose we are,” he replied, his voice carrying an unmistakable tenderness. Then, after a brief pause, his expression turned slightly hesitant. “I hope you’re still comfortable with that.”

You didn’t hesitate. “Of course I am. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“Good,” he said simply, a rare smile appearing on his lips. “Because I have too.”

But just as quickly as it appeared, his expression shifted to more somber one. “It’s… it’s not going to be easy,” he admitted quietly. “You know that, right?”

You nodded, your expression serious as well. You understood the challenges that came with a relationship, especially in your unconventional circumstances. “I know,”

“I'm not… going to be easy.”

Reaching out, you placed your hand over his where it rested on the desk, your fingers tracing gentle patterns against his skin. “I know that too.” You laced your fingers with his, stroking his thumb lovingly. “Law, I'm not going into this blindly. I… I'm just as scared as you are.”

As Law started to object, you stopped him with a determined look. “No, don't give me that look. You're emotionally challenged, and we live in a shitty world. Of course, you're scared. So am I.”

Law blinked at your bluntness, then let out a breath—half amused, half exasperated. He fell silent for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours as he absorbed your words. He hadn't expected you to acknowledge his fears so bluntly—most people just assumed he didn't have any. Yet here you were. “You're incredible, you know that?” he murmured.

Your lips curled slightly, but you didn’t let the flattery distract you from the doubt still lurking in his gaze. “I have my moments,” you replied lightly. “But I mean what I said. I know this won't be easy, and I'm scared too. But… I want this. With you.”

“I am a broken man,” he confessed, his voice stained with regret, with something that almost resembled shame.

Your gaze didn't waver. “And I won't fix you,” you said quietly. “And I am a broken woman, and you won't fix me either. But… maybe,” your voice mellowed out. “Maybe… the broken pieces… just fit together, you know?”

Law's breath hitched in his throat at your words. He felt the truth of your statement deep within, a part of him yearning to believe it. But his logical mind reminded him of the harsh realities of your lives. Yet, something about your words, your touch, made him want to believe it all the same.

“Broken pieces…” he mused.

“Yes, broken pieces,” you reiterate gently. “Sometimes, the unique things are created from broken pieces that just… fit.”

Law’s gaze dropped to your intertwined hands. He took a slow, deep breath, your words sinking into his heart, chipping away at his usual skepticism.

“Maybe you're right,” he murmured. There was something fragile in his voice, something like hope. “Maybe… maybe the broken pieces do fit together in ways that make something… significant.”

#onepiece #one piece fic #trafalgar law #trafalgar law fic #polartangchronicles #trafalgar d water law #bepo one piece #penguin one piece #shachi one piece #ikakku one piece #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader

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takes1 · 5 months ago

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[final part] asahi x reader grinding

thanks for tuning in :)

warnings. nsfw, minors DNI

details. mutual pining! / mutual!inexperience / skipped!talking phase / mutual lust! / asahi has a crush on you / forced proximity / asahi is hung / premature ejaculation / praise / asahi has horrible endurance / lap sitting / beach setting / grinding with clothes on / implied mutual virginity / asahi is a soft top / 3.3k words

links. my masterlist. part one. more haikyuu. got any requests?

Your chest rose and fell quicker, your heart beating harder, your hands twitchy in your pockets. You felt glued to the concrete. You never expected him to catch you so off-guard.

"Was I-," Asahi looked back and forth between your eyes, then down, a little sheepish, "-Wrong, to assume...?"

"N-o," You winced at your terribly huge crush ceasing to be a secret anymore.

"You're not wrong-," When you took a tentative step forward, and he met you in the middle. You were both hesitant to look at each other, let alone do anything else, "If that's what you wanted."

His tone came as a shock to you.

"I thought I made it pretty clear what I wanted."

Every little thing he said or did today rushed through your mind, now laced with the connotation he was trying to communicate the whole time. There wasn't much else to say.

It was funny entering the hotel, just you two, walking as quiet as possible across the vast first floor. You even nodded to the receptionist on your way to the elevator. You only started giggling when the doors closed.

Upon arrival last night, the team had made the delightful discovery that this elevator moved at a snail's pace; Getting to your floor would take at least a minute.

"How long do you think we could stay up here for?" You pressed 9 on the number pad, surprised when you turned and he was closer than you assumed.

He read your shock as disinterest. When he backed up to the wall, reddened at his failed attempt, thinking of a realistic timeline, you closed the distance again.

You were as close as you could get without touching. He had his hands on the built-in railing but didn't lean away from you.

"Maybe..." He looked down at you, words sounding distant as they left his mouth, "An hour?"

Tentative, you watched your own hands place themselves gently onto his big, bulky shoulders. You had been wanting to feel him there again ever since that impromptu hug weeks ago, after a big win against Date Tech.

"That sounds like plenty of time," You kept your voice from shaking by being as quiet as you possibly could.

He seized your wrists and placed your arms around his neck for you, hands flying back to meet your waist and pull you flush onto his front. Your breath stalled when he squeezed you, fingers grabbing as much of you as he politely could.

Your skin was left prickling anywhere he touched.

You weren't sure how this hour was going to go, what you'd do, but you knew you had to start with a kiss.

It was gentle, and soft, and felt like a quiet question- like the kiss itself was asking for 'more, please.'

"Holy shit," You sighed against his pillowy lips. It got so heated, so fast.

You went in for another, then another, and another, and forgot you needed to breathe.

Neither of you were very experienced, but you had the passion to keep trying, to keep making up for it and trying again for each kiss that didn't seem quite as satisfying as you wanted.

Asahi stumbled back with a laugh when you pushed on him- you pressed your lips onto his open mouth and caught a bit of his tongue in the process. It was way hotter than either of you expected.

"Mmn," His little moan into your mouth practically liquified you- he scooped you up in his big, strong arms and you barely moved in time to wrap your legs around his waist.

You were both so surprised at yourselves and each other, but didn't want to stop for anything.

The elevator door opened slow and creaky.

He carried you a short distance down the hall to your assigned room, not his. You tried your luck at sucking on his neck.

"Are we- augh- are we- really doin' this?" He struggled to mumble his words out, keep his wits for the both of you in this painfully public hallway, handle how good your tongue felt right there, and swipe your room card at the same time.

You weren't exactly sure how far he thought 'doing this' meant, but you also weren't sure how far you wanted to go, either. It was a simple, yet powerful feeling. All you could guess was that it was a simple, powerful solution.

"Mm...As long as you're into it."

Your momentary letting up, in order to answer him, made room for the spare second he needed to get inside.

Once you were in, you decided to hop down and kick off your shoes since he seemed so out of breath. But all he did was lock the door, kick a towel under the crack in the bottom, get his shoes off, and pick you right back up.

His voice was rushed, breathy with the need to have you right now. It sounded like he could've been rolling his eyes at how obvious the answer was, "Yeah- I'm into'it."

You yelped and instinctively wrapped your legs around him while he wasted absolutely no time putting you on your back.

It was so exciting that you had to giggle at his enthusiasm, and once again, his ability to throw you around.

"You're so strong," Your eyes danced around his face between messy, perfect kisses, delighted to see that your compliment embarrassed him a little.

His warm forehead pressed against your shoulder with a chuckle, shy and huffy.

Your fingers took every precious moment they could to take his headband off and rake through his long hair, nails across his scalp in the hopes to make him feel good.

"Ohh," His eyes squeezed shut, legs slowly joining the rest of his body onto the mattress. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and pulled away from you.

He sat back on his heels, flushed with the realization that his body was parting your thighs open under him.

Hair a mess, eyes unfocused with a fuzzy warmth to them, jaw tight- he looked completely undone.

"Can I take your clothes off?" It sounded like more of a hushed admission, of sorts, rather than the question that it was. Like he was revealing he'd been wanting to do that for longer than you could imagine.

You had to keep from squealing out the answer- "Yes."

Everything was so quick and distracting that even you forgot you were wearing your swimsuit underneath. He grinned with your shirt still balled up in his fist.

"That's- really cute," His eyes bounced between your tits, starting to pull your shorts off as he muttered to himself, "I guess I would've seen it all anyway, today."

You scoffed, trying to hide your nerves by not making a big deal of it, "I wasn't gonna wear this in front of everyone."

"You were gonna get in the water with everythin' on?" He grinned and slid to meet you for a hungry kiss, satisfied to hear this was still all for him and no others idiots on the team.

His fingers were digging into your fleshy bare hips, his groin against your needy sex with hardly anything separating you.

Your unruly whine was swallowed up but not ignored.

"You're'sooo perfect," Was a rushed and heady sigh, something in between a whisper and a groan right under your ear where he tried to mimic your unsuccessful attempt at a hickey.

The heat rushing to your face, the dizzying weight of his body, and your feverish desire to have him made it hard to think.

Your breath was tough to catch. A clumsy attempt to take his shirt off was your only solace in the buzz of it all.

You were given a picture perfect view when he sat up again and pulled it from the back of his collar- his lightly flexed arms, the reveal of his strong frame and kinda fuzzy chest made you infinitely more curious. Your hands jutted out to feel him.

You just couldn't help it, "Woww."

He chuckled watching you sit up, hands scouring his body like you were on the hunt for something. You palmed his chest, fingers filled with muscle as you squeezed- his laughter only grew to full volume when you stuck your face between his pecs and nearly knocked him off balance.

"Okay, okay-!" He giggled and rested his hands on your shoulders to pry your off, ecstatic about your obvious fascination.

You wiggled out of this position and met him on your knees for a big, messy kiss. It was starting to feel more real now that you had gotten a bucket list item out of the way.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," You groaned against his lips -still curled in a smile-. You palmed both of his arms simultaneously, then stretched over his shoulders to grab onto his back.

He couldn't have been more amused. It was crazy to think that he didn't understand how hot he was.

"So," His hands, much more reserved, much slower, than yours, spread the bottom of your ass and you were suddenly sucked back into reality, "You must like guys with a lot of muscle, right?"

The span of his fingers meant that some of them were awfully close to the inside of your thighs- he knew it, too. He kept palming you and reaching further into the warmth there.

"Uh-," You lost your breath, arms tighter around him, unsure if you wanted him to feel you or not, yet, "I just like you."

Asahi chuckled at your answer and, buzzed with the preoccupation of how hot and wet his fingers were getting, muttered, "I can tell."

You flinched at his heated words and tore away from him- he let up and was all sheepish, again, "I didn't mean it in a mean way-."

When he held his wet fingers between you, your face flushed at the sight and you had to look away, missing the chance to see him suck all of it off as he settled onto his back.

"I like you too," He addressed your previous admission, placing his hands on your hips as you tentatively made your way onto his lap.

His eyes just drank all of you up, sitting like this. You'd be lying if you said you didn't like it, but it did make you nervous. No guy had ever seen you this undressed.

"Ever since you joined."

"No way," You rolled your eyes, calling his bullshit immediately, "You didn't know my name until three months after I joined."

Asahi grinned, palms sliding up and down your bare thighs. You could feel his cock flex under you and he reveled in seeing your little jump.

"I couldn't remember your name because I got so nervous. I couldn't think when you were around, and I played like an idiot," You grinned at some irrefutable truth in his little confession, "I had to relearn how to be a normal person."

You recalled how mean and gruff he seemed to you as a freshman. He was the only member of the team who wouldn't talk to you. It felt like you couldn't even stand in his vicinity without getting stared down- who knew it was all amicable? It got easier to manage as time went on, especially after he left and came back, leagues more friendly thanks to the new freshman class. But your longstanding crush never wavered; he had always been your type.

"Well," You leaned forward, nose-to-nose with him, twirling some of his hair in your fingers, "You came across as a real big jerk."

It seemed you couldn't just talk to each other. Your gaze grew hungrier. His big fingers dug into the crease of your thighs, hips, and ass.

"Oh, yeah?"

Your lips crashed against each other's again, starving for more; your fingers of one hand were all tangled in his roots, the other free to feel the rest of him.

All you could think about was how big he felt, how it might fit in your hand, or your mouth, or your cunt.

He made the prettiest sounds when you pressed your palm against it- it was so warm, swollen under your touch and you thought of how long he had been hard for, how painful that probably was.

And you were amazed at how easy it was to make him so messy.

Your hand worked back and forth over his clothes- he was getting worse at kissing you because of his lack of focus, so you pulled back a little to look at him.

He was so cute. Brows screwed up at the crude and simple pleasure, pupils blown out and the sounds- shit, the choked groans. Like he was just short of begging.

Your hand dipped to feel him- you wanted to at least see his cock.

"I really like you," He muttered, hot and quick on your ear you almost didn't catch it. "I don't want you to think I'm into you just for--,"

Fingers slipped past his waistband and you barely got a feel- it was burning hot to the touch.

A very cute, unbridled moan got cut short by his awkward laughter. He nabbed your wrist.

"Ah-! Haha," He cleared his throat and let you go quick, "Sorry, I guess- I--,"

He clearly wasn't comfortable with that yet, so you slid your hand back to his tummy instead.

"No, it's okay!" You readjusted to sit on top of his hips, face burning at the pace of it all as you tried to put yourself in his position, "I just got...curious. We can stop there?"

You may have reacted the same if he tried to go that far with you. Everything was happening so fast.

Asahi stammered over himself for a second, face burning darker as he tried to explain.

"Nonono, I-I don't'wanna stop," His eyes kept darting to his print taking up the space between your legs, "I...just..."

It wasn't a malicious attempt to make him reconsider, nor was it trying to accomplish any distraction-like motives, but you found that you just couldn't force your hips to stay completely still when you could feel him pulsing through your flimsy clothes.

And he was perfect. Just a marble statue, really, who you could tell would only age like wine. His strong chest filled and shrank with a powerful shudder. His face looked pained-- his jaw tight and worked, his eyes unsure where to get their fill of you.

They settled for the most part on your hips, slowly raking back, and forth, and back, and forth over his swollen cock.

Part of his briefs sported a darker black from all the precum he was leaking. You desperately wished you could pull him out and use it as lube.

"I don't wanna stop," He said definitively.

It didn't need to be discussed. You ravished in the light of his daunting, but exhilarating attention as you got off just rubbing on his restrained print.

You let your head fall back, praying you looked like some kind of fantasy, and found yourself gasping at the yummy tension building once he bucked against you.

This could work. It was kind of? Like sex. Not really, but it was perfect for two people who weren't ready yet.

With his knees a little bent, and his forearm weighing on your lower back, there was more of an even distribution of work beginning to form. He was gentle and slow with the motion of his hips.

If he looked gone before, he was completely lost in it now.

He followed your natural rhythm without obstructing anything- you began to slowly, very minute increments, feel his hands trembling against you.

"This is--mm, this is'nice," You laughed- it made him smile and you bit your lip to keep from grinning too wide.

His big hands laced through your hair, pulling you down, gently directing your eyes to him.

"You have no idea- ah-h, how...God, how good that feels."

This was all you had wanted to do in that stupid golf cart. You moaned freely into his roughening kisses, swimming in the simple, slick, nonpenetrative pleasure sliding just right against your clit.

"I think I do," You sighed, whine caught early in your throat, "It's-mmmnh-!"

While you had planned on telling him how good it made you feel, you found you didn't have the physical capability of talking that much.

It would've been a tall task anyway with how insatiable his appetite was for your kisses.

"Damn-," His groans were deeper, needier, "You sound- ahh,"

Those big, rough hands were scouring up your sides, past your bikini top, grabbing as much of your breasts as he could. He was getting so rough, now- like he was searching, prodding, grasping for more of you.

"So-! Ah- Hot-,"

It was harder keeping up with his intensity, but you tried, enthusiastic and buzzing with his praise.

He felt amazing, but it was starting to seem like it felt better for him.

His breathing was hotter and heavier. It was turning you on to no end, and one of the only tangible encouragements you had, so you kept up what was already working.

"Mmn-h," He sighed. At this point, with his grip stronger than the rock of your own hips, he was using you as some sort of toy.

You thought back to practices where you were handing him a towel, or water, and how he struggled to thank you, breathless and flushed and sweaty. How often you pretended for many nights that he had been made that way, just for you, and not the sport that brought you together.

"Augh- fu-ck!" He whined, loud, and curled a little forward as if he'd gotten punched in the gut- he wasn't kissing you anymore, but his mouth was open, so you weighed him down and stuck your tongue inside.

You couldn't recall any other time he had ever said 'Fuck.'

That last buck of his hips took the breath out of you. A sharp moan at the perfect friction racked through you and spilled onto his lips.

But, suddenly, it was more teeth than lips that you were trying to kiss.

You pulled to look at him and, however steamy that wince on his face was, it confused you. You took a short breath to ask, in the midst of all the panting, but he muttered:

"I think, I-," He squeezed his eyes shut with the humiliating realization. The next word out of his mouth so quiet you didn't understand he said until you looked down. "Came."

You were sitting back on his lap, both palms covering your bitten, swollen lips, eyes wide at the semi-clear mess painted on his tan stomach.

Your heart was still pounding, you were so wet it was slick down your upper thighs, and looking at the vulgar, intimate sight before you made you want him even more.

"Are you okay?" Was all you could think to ask.

He laughed, "Am I--? 'Am I okay'- Yeah," He sighed, one more disgusted look down at himself, "I'm fine."

You were trying to be gentle, especially careful to not laugh with him, "...You don't seem okay."

"That's- it's- just never happened to me before," He stumbled over his words again, palm sliding over his side so he didn't drip onto the sheets.

There was so much of it. Did you really feel that good to him? You didn't hear him apologize past all your loud thoughts.

"That's so hot..." You said on the tail-end of a wistful sigh.

You had never seen somebody's expression change so quickly before. He started off looking like a kicked puppy, once it sunk in that you didn't find him the most abhorrent creature on the planet, he didn't quite know what to do with himself.

"Is there usually-," He flinched, wide-eyed when you traced your fingers on his glazed stomach, "This much?"

Amazed, he shook his head.

You were teeming with pride and he was coming back around his insecurity to meet you.

"Let's keep going."

♕VIP♕

@integers @yuchacco

my masterlist. request box.

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grandline-fics · 1 year ago

Text

Terms of Endearment

DESCRIPTION: You call them by a term of endearment without realising

WARNINGS: just fluff, mentions of alcohol in Luffy's

CHARACTERS: Ace, Sabo, Luffy | Law, Kid, Shanks, Marco, Zoro

WORDS: 1,933

A/N: The next part in this in honour of reaching 500 followers. Hope you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

ACE

You knew nothing would ever happen between you and the Division Commander. You knew he was just a likeable guy who was friendly and warm with everyone. Countless times you told yourself that he was just nice with everyone and yet still you couldn’t help but feel your heart beat just a little faster when he smiled at you and you couldn’t stop yourself from liking him a little more each time he spoke with you and spent time with you outside of chores and tasks being done onboard the ship. It didn’t matter though, even with the knowledge nothing romantic would happen you were happy to be considered a close friend of Ace’s.

One morning you were perched on the edge of the ship’s railing and keeping a critical eye on the thick wall of cloud draped over the entirety of the sky above the next island you were approaching. It made a stark difference to the clear blue you and the rest of the crew were currently under. You were no stranger to the absurdity of the ever changing weather and separate climates certain islands had but seeing what you were going to be greeted with was starting to sour your mood. It wasn’t as fun stopping at an island if there was a storm to endure.

“Glaring at the clouds won’t make them change you know.” You looked over your shoulder to see Ace hop up onto the railing and sit down beside you. Glancing out of the corner of your eye you were jealous of how relaxed he was and let out a long sigh as you returned your stare to the clouds you could now see were darker than you had originally thought.

“Who knows, stranger things have happened on these seas.” You mused, scowling harder now that the idea was in your head. “Maybe I have the ability to control weather and neither of us knew it? Don’t know unless I try.”

From beside you Ace laughed, reclining back to support his body on his elbows and grinned up at you.

“If that were possible, that’d be a pretty dumb gift. Glaring at clouds to make them obey you? You’d get a headache all day.” You rolled your eyes and laughed, getting more comfortable too, lying down and tucking your arms behind your head.

“Look we can’t all be super amazing and control fire like some people, Ace.” You teased, a small yawn breaking from your lips as your eyes closed. You were still a ways away from the stormy island so you may as well make the most of the sunshine and warmth until then. “Some of us are just boring.”

“I definitely wouldn’t call you boring.” Ace told you. Safely in the knowledge that you couldn’t see him, he could observe you carefully with softened gaze. “You’re one of my favourite people to hang out with.”

“Aw thank you love, you always know just what to say.” Your relaxed smile brightened considerably but you were too drowsy to open your eyes again to look at the man beside you. It was also why you hadn’t realised your slip of the tongue. Ace however tensed and sat up a little straighter from his once relaxed position. His eyes were widened and a soft pink was dusting his freckled skin. All this time he’d thought his feelings were one-sided and now he was hit with the reality that it might not be the case. Overcome with a burst of excitement and hope he quickly lay back down and used his hat to hide his giddy expression and began to think about how to subtly broach the subject when you were awake.

SABO

“You’re not going to improve if you don’t keep your focus.” Hack lectured, swiftly knocking Sabo back with ease. Sabo managed to recover from the attack and retaliated with one of his own that was completely dodged to the point it made the attack look so pitiful. Hack paused in the sparring match to frown at the younger Revolutionary. “Seriously, what’s with you today? Do you need to take a break?” Quickly Sabo shook his head and forced himself to keep his attention on Hack but even then he couldn’t help but feel your presence silently calling to him.

You were oblivious to the power you had over the Chief of Staff, even from the very first day you joined the Revolutionary Army you’d somehow managed to make Sabo immediately endeared to you. Given Sabo’s personality he was able to pass off his momentary slips and lack of concentration when you were around and for the most part others hadn’t made the connection. Most being the word. People like Hack, Koala, and Dragon however knew. Normally Hack wouldn’t mind and ignore it but this was the third time in the short amount of time of the sparring match that he’d seen Sabo zone out and look your way as you were speaking with Dragon about a recent mission you’d been on. Enough was enough. After knocking Sabo onto his back, Hack turned and called you over. You finished your conversation with Dragon and approached the sparring pair with a soft, expectant smile while Sabo got to his feet. “I want you to spar Sabo with me. Perhaps having two opponents will help sharpen his dulled senses.”

You became concerned to hear Hack’s less than complimentary tone at the blond and you looked to Sabo with a light frown, scrutinising his features carefully. Could it be he was sick? Was something else be bothering him? It wasn't like the Chief of Staff to be so distracted especially when it came to his training. At the suggestion of you fighting along with Hack, Sabo’s expression became a mix of uncertainty and irritation. He didn’t want to spar against you but he couldn’t outright deny Hack requesting you join them given he had no real reason to oppose it. Sabo could only take a breath and adjust his stance while praying he didn’t make an embarrassment of himself.

At first having you as part of the fight helped Sabo when it came to focusing on the fight, by having two skilled fighters attacking he didn’t have the ability to pay attention to his personal feelings. However when he kept his sight on Hack as the priority he’d slipped up and forgotten you. You took the window of opportunity and ducked under Sabo’s arm, your face less than inch from his. Quickly you hooked her arm around his and tucked your foot around his ankle, twisting and knocking him to the ground. You kept a firm hold on Sabo’s wrist and pressed your knee into his back. “Give up sweetie?” you asked innocently, unable to see Sabo’s eyes widen. Before he could respond you were abruptly called for by another Revolutionary to go out on a mission. Pouting you released Sabo and left him and Hack.

“Please tell me I didn’t imagine that…” Sabo uttered, almost begging Hack. He looked up to see the Fishman grin at him and help him to his feet.

“No I heard it too. Funny thing is I don’t think they noticed they did it.” Sabo watched your retreating form and brightly smiled.

“Interesting.”

LUFFY

For the most part Luffy can be considered fairly clueless about a lot of things if they don’t involve his ambition to be King of the Pirates and obtaining the One Piece, doing whatever he wanted and eating all he wished. That included his own deeper feelings at times. However no matter how complex Luffy’s emotions were about certain things he found it easier to break them down into more simplistic views and gain a better understanding about them. He found he had to do that with you and the longer you were part of his crew the more he had to take an inward look at his feelings. So far he was able to discern that he liked you, he liked being around you and it was mutual because you’d been all too eager to join his crew. For the longest time it was simple as that.

Things however became complicated one night after he and the rest of the crew helped free another town from a corrupt ruler. As always the celebration was a large affair with plenty of food, music and drink. While Luffy wasn’t a drinker and happily indulged in all the food he could get his hands on, you were pulled into a drinking contest with some of the locals along with Nami, Zoro, Franky, and Usopp. You’d managed to hold your own for a respectable amount but when you felt the world being to tilt and your mind grow hazy you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle anymore.

Staggering from the table you somehow managed to wander to the only spot you knew you’d feel completely safe and content with. You didn’t know how you managed it, call it instinct or sheer will but you stopped beside your Captain and slid down to sit on the soft grass beside him, leaning against his back for support. Luffy looked over his shoulder to grin at you before continuing to eat. “You lost huh?” he laughed before taking a large bite of a meat skewer.

“It’s cheating when Zoro plays.” You grumbled, shifting to get more comfortable against your Captain. “He’s so smug too. Didn’t even wanna win anyway.” You fell into soft laughter with Luffy and then drifted into content silence. Subconsciously Luffy moved while he ate, seamlessly turning so you were leaning against his side and neither of you seemed to even notice the new position.

When morning came and you woke with a hangover and lack of memory you let out a worried groan, hoping that whatever you’d done wasn’t too embarrassing or at the very least you hoped that everyone else was also too drunk to remember too. Wincing you pushed yourself up to see that you were in your own bed. Hazily you tried to force your brain to work and managed to pull out the image of Luffy which made sense, he was your go-to for anything. Knowing he didn’t drink, you knew you could also rely on him for the truth on what you failed to remember. You found Luffy sitting on Sunny’s head just as you knew he’d be but you became worried to see him frowning, deep in thought. “Everything okay Luffy?” you asked, flinching when Luffy’s head swiftly snapped around to look at you intently.

“No! You’re not allowed to call me that.” Immediately worry and guilt took hold. What had you done? Would he ever forgive you? Oh no, what if it was so bad he’d kick you off of the ship for good.

“Wh-what do you mean?“ You asked panicked and feeling sick which was not from the hangover. “Whatever I’ve done I’m sorry but I don’t remember. Please tell me what I did wrong. I can fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Luffy’s expression became confused. “I’ve just decided that you can’t call me Luffy anymore I like what you called me last night after I helped you to bed better.”

“Oh…” you couldn’t tell what you were feeling in that moment exactly. Desperately you tried to think what you called him, silently thankful that whatever it was hadn’t offended him. “Well if you want me to call you that instead you have to remind me.”

“You called me dear.” Luffy grinned while your face reddened.

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simpjaes · 1 year ago

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hi i just stalked the crap our of your page and HOLY CRAPTHIS IS MY NEW GUILTY PLEASURE

can i req seeing how enha hyung line would take care of you after railing you soooooo hard????

hyung line + aftercare after very intense sex

warning: uh....painful sex, fainting, dissociation, anal, implied squirting, degradation, idk just a lot of intense sex stuff ig

note: it's a lil messy, i've been running errands all day and am using this to push myself back into the writing brain :D

★ heeseung:

what i wanna say is that depending on the circumstances, he'd probably throw a towel at your head and walk away to shower alone but we all know heeseung is so much more than a careless fuck boy for the most part. in my opinion, if he's got you where he wants you and he's allowed to fuck you as hard as he can, rendering you faint, dizzy, and almost dissociated, he either has some sort of feelings for you, you're someone else's girlfriend and he wants you to like him more, or you're already in a committed relationship lmfao

and you know, you thought that after he managed to pull three orgasms out of you, fucked all three of your holes, and managed to get you all twisted up for him to cum in places he definitely isn't supposed to, you really thought he was done.

but then he chuckles, taking one look at you once his own mind clears from his orgasm and it's like...how could he not just continue to fuck you? you look so pretty already fucked open, lying there with tears in your eyes and shaking?

you'd hear something akin to "you're gonna take a bit more, open those eyes back up for me," and "i can tell you can take it, just keep your eyes on me."

it's kind of pathetic, actually, how you really do just lay there and take it until he says you're finished.

so, yeah, when you're with someone like heeseung, there's always a thought in your head about if he'll even take care of you at all after the fact. at least, the thought is there before he breaks your brain. even if every time before this where he's needed to bring you back, he has without question and with a voice from him that is always so rare to hear.

just kinda hard to imagine someone who fucks you near to the brink of passing out, sometimes actually passing out, finding it within themselves to take care of you as deeply as they fuck you, yknow?

but, time and time again he has to remind you that he's not only capable but willing to make sure you're well taken care of. after all, you do your part in taking it, so he'll do his part in giving you what you need too. only after scooping half the mess with his fingers and feeding it to you, of course.

after that though? he's very much hauling you off for a warm shower and tenderly washing you. very very gentle with his hands, knowing how sensitive your holes are. he'd compliment you, he'd praise you for letting him absolutely destroy that ass, and ultimately, lay you to sleep next to him regardless of what the relationship status is, making sure you're well aware that he's not just using you for pleasure. he's very much appreciative of what you bring to his bedroom, and there's no reason to pretend he isn't.

☆ jay:

i like to think that jay would have you in fucking pain and barely able to stand on your own two feet by the time he allows you to close your legs with deep groans as you try to catch your breath.

honestly, the stamina this man has and actively spends on you could render anyone immobile for at least a week with the way he snaps his hips and holds you down from wiggling away in sensitivity. and man, the things he'd fucking say to you through it. so degrading, so controlling and dismissive, entirely fucking insulting. you're shocked time and time again that even while knowing it's just sex talk, it still hurts your feelings every single time.

then again, he's aware of that. but you're so goddamn pretty when you're crying and moaning, it drives him insane to know you endure it for his pleasure.

you're soaked by the time it's over and done with, he's soaked, and honestly the swollen marks against your ass still burn intensely when he rolls you over on your belly to get a good look at his work.

always with a breathy "aw, baby, i really fucked you up this time, huh?" or a little "took it so well, you still can't even focus your eyes on me, can you?" before rubbing any and every pained mark he left on you.

after his own brain clears of the sex-fog, he'd wrap you up, really warm and tightly in his arms as if his hug would wipe away any of the spit and cum drying between your bodies, as if it could mask all of those insults he flung at you. still, he'd be fluttering hundreds of kisses against your neck and ears, whispering little compliments about how pretty you are when you're barely able to keep your eyes open, about how much he adores you, and how often he wishes you'd believe these words over the silly orgasm-fueled insults.

still whispering, throughout the entire session of his care after the fact. always loving that you let him harm you as long as he's healing you just as good. and he does, truly, with the back rubs and the showers, tons upon tons of sweet kisses. constant praise. he'd put your lotion on you and rub it in thoughtfully, occasionally some medicated cream if his fingernails dug in a little too deep.

always always always holds you against his chest when you drift off to sleep, making sure any pain in your body feels more like love than anything else, and promising time and time again that he'll make sure you always fall asleep knowing he loves you, and that he doesn't at all think you're a fuck-doll, that he wouldn't let his friends have their turn way you.

(i am madly in love with him, pls look away and stop thinking of him now thank u)

★sunghoon:

ah, sunghoon. yeah. sunghoon. this man would leave you a fucking mess of tears and drool, edging you for hours. hell, he edges you for fucking days just because he can. not at all because you've been bad, or a brat, or have managed to make him jealous.

this is one of those days. you could tell he came home with that look in his eye, grabbing your face and practically forcing you to lift on your toes just so he could whisper the planned torture against your tongue.

so, after the second day with you whining, fucking begging to be released from your prison of sensitivity and lust, maybe he gives it to you. maybe he wakes you up from a deep and much needed sleep with fingers harshly pinching your clit.

ah, the pain. that alone was enough to make you cum, and you did. unfortunately, he didn't like that very much so your new torture was to get off as many times as he expected you to.

after about, what, the seventh orgasm? you stopped counting, it was closer to eleven in the afternoon and he'd been giving it to you for hours, all over that little mishap.

an eight orgasm knocked your ass out, exhausted, spread out, fucked senseless. you could barely hold your head up, but he does it for you. first by your hair, but noting the look in your eye indicating that he really needs to stop by this point.

and sunghoon is the type that would stop at that point. something in his brain clicking and forcing him back into that perfect boyfriend persona, where the only thing in the world he wants to do is make you happy.

and he knows it's not that you're not happy right now, it's mostly just the fact that he thinks he broke you're brain and you forgot how to feel anything other than his cock ramming inside of you.

so, he'd remind you time and time again. how his hands can do so much more than choke you, and how his lips can be sweet and less bruising against your temple when you really need it. you'd feel entirely loved when he's taking care of the mess he caused. both physically and mentally for you. needing to bring you back to reality with soft touches and tight holds.

it worked every time, because by the next morning, you'd just be moaning and groaning about how if he hadn't of make you breakfast in bed, you may have very well slashed his tires for the amount of suffering he put you through.

☆ jake:

bro is taking care of you not only after sex, but the entire time during sex. there's not a single moment where he's intentionally trying to hurt you, or forcing you to take more than you can handle.

it just....kind of happens on nights like these. where his hands are clinging, and his throat is begging, and your body can't say no. with his pretty puppy dog eyes asking if he can try anal, with his fingers slamming too deep, with his grip on you so tight you know it'll bruise, with his ability to knock the breath out of you and not give it back until you're nearly blue in the face.

yeah, most of the intense shit is accidental, but god is he taking care of you. always apologizing but continuing, always promising to make it up to you, always feeding into your ego more than his own, reminding you that the pain his body lends only comes from the immense amount of need he has to practically crawl inside of you and live there forever.

it's kind of amazing actually, that someone who starts so gentle can also end with blood in his mouth from bitten lips and swelling bruises all over your body.

he tends to you hand and foot. carrying you where ever you need to go even if just to your closet three feet from the bed, dresses you, undresses you, fixes your hair, does your skin care, all while kissing the bruises and ignoring the fact that he knows he'll never have enough of you, and you're probably always gonna be in pain when he loses his control like that.

#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #heeseung smut #jake smut #jay smut #sunghoon smut #jaeyun smut #jongseong smut #hardthots

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kaynanarie · 5 months ago

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Eyes of Gold (Part 4)

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

Two days later, the rash was finally gone. The baths and medicine had cleansed it away, leaving healthy, itchless skin in its wake. You couldn’t be more relieved. Shihou endured your smothering hugs and endless thanks with grace and a smidge of pride.

With you now poison ivy free, the monkey was ready to show you the way up the mountain. You didn’t realize how literally he meant it until you were three hours into a grueling hike.

“How much further?” you whined, climbing up yet another set of stone steps. Shihou snickered where he sat waiting for you to catch up.

“Just a few more. Would you had preferred scaling the side of the mountain?”

You huffed, pausing to catch your breath. “No, but I wasn’t expecting a maze of staircases and secret tunnels. Did Monkey King find all these?”

“Actually, he made most of them,” Shihou said, leading the way down a side passage. “Fruit and Flower Mountain has seen plenty of battles and having a backdoor comes in handy.”

Glowing moss along the walls offered some light but you still kept close to Shihou. With so many twists and turns, getting lost would be all too easy. After another flight of stairs and a few more tight tunnels, Shihou finally stopped by an unassuming patch of stone.

“Here we are!”

You glanced at the rocky surface then back at him. “Where exactly is here?”

With a smirk, Shihou pushed the wall aside. Instead of stone like you first assumed, a cloth was brushed away, revealing a brightly lit hallway on the other side. You stepped out into the light, letting your eyes adjust while also enjoying the fresh air. Behind you, a woven tapestry fell back into place, covering the secret doorway without a trace.

Once you could properly see, you found yourself in a corridor, one side dotted with large windows streaming in sunlight. Lining the opposite wall were statues, murals, and hanging weapons interspaced between ornate doors. Despite being carved from the mountain itself, the stone palace was just as regal and intricate as any human-made castle.

“Your room is over here, peach friend! Come take a look!” Shihou called from down the hall. He was nearly hopping from excitement by the time you joined him in front of the open door. “What do you think?”

The room was huge, a carefully carved cavern with artistic details etched into the very walls. Rosewood furniture adorned the space, expertly crafted and polished to a mirror shine. The wardrobe tucked in the corner revealed silk robes similar to your first gifted set. A bowl of fruit and bouquet of colorful flowers decorated a small side table. You were most excited to see a real bed, plush with a downy mattress and covered in embroidered blankets and furs. The whole space glowed by the light of the bay window leading out to an overlooking balcony.

Of all the things you expected from a mountain palace full of demons, such royal accommodations were beyond your wildest dreams. “It’s beautiful! Look at this view!”

Being so high up was breathtaking and dizzying all at once. The whole of Fruit and Flower Mountain stretched before you all the way down to the edge of the forest. Cascading green hills plummeted alongside the thunderous waterfall. Above the canopy of trees, white clouds drifted through the endless blue sky. You were so enthralled by the sight, Shihou had to tug you back by your robes before you could tumble over the balcony railing.

“Careful! Wouldn’t want an accident before the King announces your arrival.”

“He’s announcing my arrival?” you repeated in disbelief.

“Of course!” Shihou chirped, leading you back into the room. With your weary body weighted down by the sudden news, the bed looked more inviting than ever. You all but flopped down on the mattress, sighing into the cloud-like comfort. The weight on the blankets shifted as Shihou hopped up to sit next to you. “The King wants to formally welcome you while also making the others aware of your presence. Best way to avoid any mishaps.”

“If you say so,” you hummed, glancing over to him. “Any other surprises I should know?”

“Well actually, there was something I’ve been meaning to tell you…” Shihou suddenly looked quite contrite, avoiding your gaze as he scratched at the back of his head. “But you have to promise not to panic or get angry. Okay?”

You raised a brow. “Is it that bad?”

“Probably not,” he said though his frown wasn’t very convincing. “Just…try not to hate me?”

Before you could respond, Shihou jumped off the bed and scurried to the center of the room. You sat up to watch him, suddenly worried by whatever was about to happen. He took a slow breath, so focused even his tail was still. In a quick nod, a cloud of smoke enveloped him with a startling pop. You jumped to your feet, coughing and waving the haze from your face. As fast as it appeared, the cloud settled, leaving you blinking as a shrouded figure came into view.

“Ta-dah!”

Where Shihou had once been was now stood a demon. He was slightly taller than you, wearing simple pants and robes tied with a belt. The overall appearance was nearly human but his fur, tail, and bare feet were monkey-like. A nervous smile played across his simian face while he waited for your reaction. Only the familiar golden gaze kept full blown panic at bay.

“Shihou?” you asked after a tense moment.

“Yep! It’s me! Just a little taller now. And with clothes,” he smirked but there was still a cautious edge to it. “You’re not going to freak out, right?”

Your arms flailed in bewilderment, grasping for understanding. “First you can talk, and now this? I thought you were just a regular monkey!” Your hands covered your face, mind whirling with every awkward conversation you had with him. “How? Why?”

Shihou looked a bit sheepish at your confusion. “I didn’t mean to lie. When I found you, I disguised myself so I wouldn’t scare you and I wasn’t sure how to bring it up afterwards. Now that you’re here, you’ll be seeing a lot more demons around so I might as well be the first.”

A deafening silence filled the room as you processed the monkey’s confession. The longer you stared, the more nervous he became, tail twitching as he fidgeted in place.

“Are you mad at me, peach friend?” he asked, gold eyes wide and pleading. Despite the larger demon form, he managed to look quite pitiful in his remorse.

You sighed and shook your head. “You’re lucky you’re still cute.”

“Aww,” he cooed, his smile sharpening to a cheeky grin. “You think I’m cute?”

His teasing turned to full blown laughter at your unamused glare. “Don’t push it. I’m already embarrassed I carried you around for three days.”

“How about I carry you next time to make it up to you?” Shihou chuckled at your mortified blush. “Anyways, now that you know, it’ll be easier to show you around. For now, you should rest while I let the King know you’ve arrived. Will you be okay while I’m gone?”

The idea of being left by yourself in an unfamiliar demon palace was unnerving but you nodded anyways. Shihou sensed your hesitation and placed his now much larger hand on your shoulder. “I won’t be long. Once everyone’s gathered, I’ll come get you for the announcement.”

With a final wave and a quick wink, Shihou whisked out of the room. Alone with your reeling thoughts, you laid back on the bed to study the carved ceiling. Soon enough, you felt the fatigue of the day pull you into dreams filled with underground labyrinths, demons in disguise, and the looming presence of the infamous mountain king.

#Journey to the West #JTTW #Monkey King #Sun Wukong #Monkey King x Reader #Sun Wukong x Reader #Beauty and the Beast #Lutung Kasarung #Fairytale and Folktale Inspired #Eyes of Gold #KayNanArie #Black Myth Wukong #BMW #I might be vegetarian but I still cooked something for Thankgiving

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with-my-murder-flute · 2 months ago

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Re: The Tomb of Dragons ship situation/ending, spoilers for A Companion to Wolves and Angel of the Crows

Like I respect Addison's right to write the stories that feel meaningful to her, she doesn't have to just feed us fanbait, not every author has to do that

but I was white-knuckling up to the very last sentence of the book

I have trust issues ever since A Companion to Wolves, where the first book ends and you're like. I guess they have somehow found a way to survive and be happy in their unusual approach to society's sexual mores! And then the next book begins and it's like "Oh actually the main character is just resigned to permanent unhappiness with this, maybe he will dredge up a thin trickle of joy in life focusing on something totally different." And I'll be honest, I put that book down and never picked it up again, because I did the good girl Catholic thing and thought "Oh well I'll never experience sexual joy or deep enduring love but maybe I'll have like idk a career or some shit" long enough for one lifetime. NO MORE. I just gave up and went back to Every Marine a Wolfbrother.

And then Angel of the Crows was like, "I got shot down every single time I reached for queer joy or relationships and the one relationship that does remain is not really what I want or need and maybe I am a bit fundamentally unlovable, but I'll survive, we get by," and I was, again... I recognize this is not a story for me. It's not what I want from a story. But also, I am so disappointed and tired here.

So with this series I was just so much like... she does not owe us fanbait, I have trained myself to think it's tacky and bad to get upset that an author has not provided the exact kind of representation we want exactly how we want it. I watched the Good Omens fandom explosions and don't want to do that.

But at the same time. We have been hearing about the extreme gay agony of this beautiful muppet for FOUR BOOKS STRAIGHT. He is the world's most sopping wet little meow meow, and quite respectfully, if you do not want your fans to form a frenzy and start burning down uninhabited buildings due to an overload of unrequited textual sexual tension, MAYBE DON'T FOCUS ON IT QUITE SO MUCH.

So I'm here at the end of Tomb of Dragons going, "I guess I'm okay with this? I guess I can live? It's not exactly what I wanted and it's not delivered to the degree I wanted, but I guess we can get by here."

Is this what Stockholm Syndrome feels like? I literally don't believe Stockholm Syndrome is a real thing, I think it's been bunk since the day it was created, but also, this feels like what Stockholm Syndrome would feel like.

I will probably be able to like the new love interest! I can see myself in the future being happy with the way the story ended up going in, once I get over the fact that it went there! This makes sense and I can see it and reconciling all those feelings is what fanfiction's for!

I just also... am not so excited to see what else Addison's working on now. Because this overarching theme or emotional focus on the yearning for warmth and closeness and empathy and touch and desire, and the realization that you will just have to make do with slightly unsatisfying substitutes instead, is just way too similar to the defeatist ways I learned to approach life with when I was a child. It's exactly the mindset I wanted to get away from then and am still learning to let go of now.

I don't want to squash the fandom with my disappointment and negativity, and if fandom does just turn into everyone being angry and bitter that the author personally flipped them the bird and actually everything about these books is proof that they've always been shit, no thanks, not hanging out with that again. If I stick around, it's for Thara getting railed in exactly the way he wants in some happier future, and figuring out what that would look like.

#the goblin emperor #the tomb of dragons #the tomb of dragons spoilers #katherine addison #sarah monette #thara celehar

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ink-perfect · 7 months ago

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unguarded.

## request!

─ about: anime zoro x gn!reader ⋆. angst-to-fluff, 2nd person ⋆. migrane, battle, near-death experience, infirmary visit, argument, mushyl!zoro 🥹, apologies ─ synopsis: as a swordsman for the straw hats, you're well-adjusted to the amount of strength it takes on the battlefield, and are willing to fight through even the worst of migranes to meet this standard. despite your crew’s warnings against this - zoro's, especially - you insist that you can handle it. however, a near-death encounter almost costs you everything, forcing you to confront the consequences of your stubbornness through a particularly intimate conversation with a fellow swordsman...

the sea was calm, deceptively peaceful, as the going merry sailed smoothly through the waves. but something wasn’t right. you could feel it in the air, in the way the wind seemed to whisper warnings through the rigging.

you gripped the railing, trying to ground yourself as the sharp, relentless pounding in your head throbbed behind your eyes. your migraine had been creeping up on you for hours, starting as a dull ache and slowly escalating into something unbearable. but you had learned to endure it. you had to.

there was no room for weakness on the crew. you’d seen how much the straw hats gave - how much they sacrificed - and you refused to be the one dragging them down. even if your head felt like it was being split open, even if your vision blurred and your knees threatened to buckle beneath you, you wouldn’t say a word. you could handle this.

but the pain was constant now, like a nail tapping at the back of your skull, never quite leaving you alone. the world seemed too bright, the sounds around you too sharp, and it took everything in you to keep your face neutral, to not flinch at every piercing noise.

“oi.”

zoro’s voice cut through the haze of pain, low and gravelly. he had been watching you, as he often did when you thought no one was paying attention. you turned your head slowly, trying not to wince at the movement.

“what?” you asked, your voice coming out colder than you intended, betraying just a hint of your discomfort.

his sharp green eyes narrowed as they studied you, suspicion darkening his features. “you look like shit,” he said bluntly, his gaze not leaving yours.

you forced a laugh, though it felt hollow. “gee, thanks for the compliment, swordsman.”

he didn’t laugh, didn’t even smirk like he usually would. instead, his eyes stayed locked on yours, intense and unyielding. zoro wasn’t one to pry, but he wasn’t stupid either. he could sense something was wrong, and you hated that he could see through you so easily.

“don’t tell me you’re thinking about fighting in that condition,” he said, the edge in his voice unmistakable. it wasn’t a question - it was a warning.

“i’m fine,” you lied, shifting your weight as you tried to stand a little taller, even though the motion sent a fresh wave of pain through your skull. “it’s just a headache. i can handle it.”

his expression darkened, his jaw clenching as his fingers twitched toward his swords, like he was itching to cut through whatever was standing in his way - even if that thing was your stubbornness.

“don’t be an idiot.” his voice was low, almost a growl. “you can barely stand straight.”

“i said i’m fine,” you snapped, harsh now. you regretted it the moment the words left your mouth, but you couldn’t back down now. you hated the idea of them worrying about you, of anyone thinking you were weak. “we’re about to run into trouble. you need every fighter on deck, and i’m not going to sit this one out because of a little headache.”

zoro’s glare could have cut through steel. “this isn’t just a ‘little headache’, and you know it damn well. you look like you’re about to pass out. if you get yourself killed out there, you’ll just be another thing we have to worry about.”

you flinched at the harshness of his words, your chest tightening with frustration and…something else. why did he have to make it sound like you were a burden? like your presence was just another problem for the crew to deal with?

“i don’t need you worrying about me,” you muttered, your voice quieter now but still firm. “i can take care of myself, i….i’m strong enough.”

zoro’s eyes flashed with something unreadable - anger, yes, but also something deeper, something more vulnerable. “you think i’m worried because i think you’re weak?” he said, his voice suddenly quieter, more controlled. “no. i'm worried because i actually give a shit about you, believe it or not.”

the words hung in the air between you, so light-hearted yet so suffocating. you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, a sudden shout from luffy in the crow’s nest broke the tension.

“pirates ahead!”

instantly, the mood shifted. the crew sprang into action. nami called out orders, directing the ship into position, while usopp scrambled to ready the cannons. sanji lit a cigarette and disappeared into the kitchen, preparing to fight in his own way. robin, ever calm, began reading the enemy ship’s movement. franky and chopper were already preparing for the worst.

your grip tightened on the hilt of your sword, your heart racing. you had to fight. you needed to fight, to prove that you weren’t a liability, that you could handle yourself no matter what.

zoro shot you one last look, a warning, but you ignored it, pushing yourself forward as the enemy ship loomed closer. the adrenaline began to dull the pounding in your skull, but it didn’t disappear. it was there, always there, lurking just beneath the surface, ready to pull you under the moment you let your guard down.

the battle erupted in chaos. cannon fire echoed through the air, and the sound of steel clashing against steel filled your ears. you moved on instinct, your body following the rhythm of the fight, even as your vision blurred and the edges of the world seemed to tilt dangerously.

you cut down one pirate after another, each swing of your sword sending a jolt of pain through your head, but you gritted your teeth and kept moving. you had to keep moving.

but then, your body betrayed you.

your knees wobbled, and your vision went black for a split second - just long enough for you to misjudge the distance of an incoming attack. the pirate’s sword swung toward you, too fast for you to block, and for a horrifying moment, all you could do was watch - there was no time to react.

you were done for.

suddenly, you were yanked backward, a rough hand grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you out of harm’s way. you stumbled, barely keeping your footing as franky’s voice boomed above you.

“hey! what's the big idea?!” franky demanded, his voice tinged with panic as he glared down at you, his massive hand still gripping your shoulder. “you almost got yourself killed!”

your breath came in ragged gasps as you tried to shake off the dizziness, the world spinning violently around you. the migraine, which had been a dull roar before, now surged to unbearable levels, like someone was driving a spike through your brain.

“shit…” you whispered, your vision swimming.

“’shit’ is right,” franky growled, his usually carefree demeanour replaced with an urgency that sent a cold chill down your spine. “you need to get out of here before-”

the next words were lost in the ringing in your ears. your legs gave out beneath you, and before you could hit the ground, strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you up against something solid and warm.

zoro.

his scent - sweat, steel, and the faintest hint of sake - washed over you, grounding you for just a moment. his grip on you was firm, almost possessive, as he cradled you against his chest, his face twisted in anger and something dangerously close to fear.

“what the hell were you thinking?” zoro’s voice was rough, strained, as if he was holding back something he didn’t want to say. “actually, i bet you just weren't, you idiot.”

you tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. the pain was too much. you couldn’t even muster the strength to argue, to insist that you were fine, that you could handle it. because the truth was…you couldn’t. not this time.

zoro’s expression darkened as he realised just how bad your condition was, his smirk immediately settling into a frown. “shit…this is bad, you can barely talk. damn it, why didn’t you say anything when i asked before?”

you blinked up at him, your body trembling with the effort of staying conscious. you prepared yourself to lie again, to maintain that tough exterior you spent so long cultivating, but looking into the swordsman's dark eyes, the way they felt like they truly saw you, made you melt. you could feel his stare make your stomach do flips, opening your floodgates all too fast. “i just didn’t… want to be a burden,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

zoro’s grip tightened, his jaw clenching so hard you could see the muscles twitching in his neck. “a burden?” his voice cracked, raw with emotion. “you think we’d ever see you as a burden?”

his words cut through the haze, slicing through the pain and self-doubt that had been weighing you down for so long. you had always thought you needed to be strong, to never show weakness, but in this moment, zoro’s expression told you everything you had refused to believe.

he cared.

deeply.

“we’re getting you to chopper,” zoro said firmly, his voice a low growl as he scooped you up in his arms, holding you close as he carried you below deck. the battle raged on around you, but for the first time, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

you were exhausted. broken.

as zoro carried you, his arms wrapped protectively around your limp body, you could feel his heart beating against your chest, steady and strong, a sharp contrast to the chaos and violence outside. you wanted to tell him you were sorry, that you’d been stupid, that you didn’t mean to scare him.

but all you could do was rest your head against his chest, your body too weak to fight anymore.

“don’t ever do that again,” zoro whispered, his voice rough with an emotion he rarely let slip. his grip on you tightened as if he was afraid to let go, afraid you’d disappear if he loosened his hold for even a second.

you blinked, your vision hazy and unfocused, but the raw emotion in his voice pierced through the fog clouding your mind. the world felt distant, the sounds of the battle muffled by the pounding in your head, but the warmth of his embrace - the way he held you as if you were something fragile, something all-too precious - was undeniable. zoro had never been one for softness, never one to show anything but strength, yet here he was, carrying you as if you were the most valuable thing in the world.

“i-i’m sorry,” you mumbled weakly, your voice barely above a whisper. it was all you could manage, but the apology burned at the back of your throat, thick with guilt and shame. you hated that you’d scared him, hated that you had been reckless enough to push him to this point.

zoro didn’t respond right away. his jaw was clenched so tightly you could see the tension in his neck, his eyes fixed ahead with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. you could feel the frustration radiating off him, a silent storm brewing just beneath the surface, ready to erupt at any moment. but he didn’t let it show. not yet.

“you don’t get it,” zoro finally muttered under his breath, so low you almost didn’t catch it. his voice was tight, as if he was barely holding back the flood of emotion threatening to break free. “you think we don’t care. you think i don’t care.”

your heart clenched at his words, guilt twisting like a knife in your chest. you’d never meant to make him worry. you’d never wanted to be a burden, to make him or the others feel like they needed to protect you. but hearing him say it, hearing the raw, unfiltered emotion in his voice, made it impossible to deny the truth any longer.

“i…” you started, but your voice cracked, and the words got caught in your throat. what could you say? how could you possibly explain the need to prove yourself, to be strong, when it had nearly cost you everything?

zoro didn’t look at you, his gaze still fixed straight ahead as he carried you down the stairs toward the infirmary. his arms tightened around you protectively, his body tense as if he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go for even a second. “you could’ve died, goddamnit.”

the words hung heavy in the air, suffocating in their weight. you had been close - too close. franky had pulled you back, but if he hadn’t...you shuddered at the thought.

you weren’t ready to die. you weren’t ready to leave your crew, your friends. and zoro…the thought of leaving him behind hurt more than the migraine ever could.

as if sensing your unease, zoro’s grip on you softened, his voice dropping to a quieter, more vulnerable tone. “you can’t keep doing this. you can’t keep pushing yourself until you break.” his words were slow, deliberate, like each one was a struggle to get out. “we’re a crew. we’re supposed to watch each other’s backs. and that includes you.”

his gaze finally flicked down to meet yours, and what you saw there made your breath hitch. his usual sharp, unreadable expression was gone, replaced by something raw and achingly open. his dark eyes were filled with something so deep, so intense, that it made your heart twist painfully in your chest. you had never seen him like this - unguarded, his walls stripped bare.

“i need you to understand,” he said, his voice rough, almost pleading. “i can’t lose you.”

the confession hit you like a punch to the gut. zoro, the strongest, most stoic man you knew, was admitting something you’d never thought you’d hear from him. it wasn’t just about the crew. this was personal. it was about you -about what you meant to him. and that realisation left you breathless.

you stared up at him, wide-eyed, struggling to process the weight of his words. “zoro…i didn’t…i didn’t mean to…”

“yeah, well, you did anyway,” he interrupted, his voice harsher now, though the vulnerability in his eyes didn’t fade. “you think i didn’t notice? every time you push yourself past your limits, every time you pretend like everything’s fine when you’re barely holding on…i see it. i see what you do. i see you.”

you swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing tighter with every word. you hadn’t realised just how much he’d been paying attention, how closely he’d been watching. it made your heart ache, knowing that while you had been so focused on hiding your pain, zoro had been silently carrying the weight of his worry for you.

“why didn’t you say something earlier?” you mumbled through your pain, the words barely making it past your lips.

zoro let out a short, bitter laugh, though there was no humour in it. “would you have listened?”

you couldn’t answer that. deep down, you knew the truth. you had been so determined to prove yourself, so fixated on not being seen as a burden, that you had pushed away anyone who tried to help. even zoro.

especially zoro.

his gaze softened slightly, though his frustration still simmered beneath the surface. “i get it. you’re stubborn. you don’t want anyone to worry about you. but damn it, i can’t stand seeing you like this. you’re more than just another crewmate to me.”

your heart skipped a beat at that, the weight of his words sinking in. more than just another crewmate.

zoro’s expression tightened, his eyes flickering with something dangerously close to fear as he set you down gently on the infirmary bed. his hand lingered on your arm for a moment longer than necessary, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go.

“chopper will take care of you,” he muttered, his voice rough and uneven. “just… don’t scare us like that again. don’t scare me like that again.”

your throat tightened, and you reached out, grabbing his hand before he could pull away completely. his eyes snapped back to yours, surprise flickering across his face.

“i really am sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i-”

“i don’t care about apologies,” zoro interrupted, though his tone had softened. he looked down at your hand holding his, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away. but instead, his fingers curled around yours, holding on with surprising gentleness. the action was quick, so smooth that you thought you had imagined it - but as you checked and saw your intertwined hands, your heart swelled. “just promise me you’ll stop pretending like you have to do everything alone.”

you nodded, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. you hadn’t realised just how much you’d needed to hear those words, how much you’d been carrying on your own for so long. zoro wasn’t just scolding you for being reckless - he was asking you to let him in, to trust him.

“i promise,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but the weight of the words was heavier than any sword you’d ever carried.

zoro’s grip on your hand tightened for just a moment, his expression softening in a way that made your chest ache. then, without another word, he let go, turning away as chopper bustled into the room with his medical supplies.

but before he left, zoro made a final pause at the door, his back to you. his voice, when he spoke, was so quiet you almost missed it.

“i need you here. with me. don’t forget that.”

and with that, he was gone, leaving you alone in the infirmary with chopper, your heart pounding and your mind racing. his words echoed in your head, each one a reminder of just how much you had been blind to, how much you had taken for granted.

you weren’t alone. you never had been. and it was time to start letting yourself believe that.

because one thing was clear: zoro needed you. and that knowledge, that unspoken truth, healed you in a way no medicine ever could.

── ౨ৎ masterlist

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xichilie · 2 months ago

Note

What if… seasick reader 🤔

Brant x fem (reader)

Seasick reader

The salty sea breeze carried the scent of the ocean, mingling with the distant call of gulls and the rhythmic creaking of the ship as it cut through the waves. The journey had started with excitement—a grand adventure, Brant had called it—but now, leaning over the ship's railing, Y/N felt anything but grand.

A miserable groan escaped her lips as another wave of nausea rolled through her. She clutched the railing tighter, her knuckles white. The world tilted, and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing her stomach to settle.

Behind her, familiar footsteps approached, lighter than they should have been on the worn wooden deck. "Oh, my poor, tragic dove," Brant's voice purred, laced with exaggerated sympathy. "You suffer so, and I, cruel as I am, failed to prevent it. How will I ever live with this guilt?"

Y/N weakly turned her head to glare at him. "Brant, I swear if you don't—" Her words were cut off as another wave of nausea hit, forcing her to return her focus to the ocean.

Brant's teasing façade melted in an instant. Gently, he placed a warm hand against her back, rubbing slow circles between her shoulders. "Alright, alright," he murmured, his voice softer now. "No theatrics. Just me."

Y/N took a slow breath, her body still tense. The warmth of his touch was grounding, a stark contrast to the relentless rocking of the ship.

Brant sighed, his other hand coming up to brush a few strands of hair from her damp forehead. "You always take care of me, Stella Mia," he said, voice unusually quiet. "Let me return the favor for once."

Before she could protest, he was already moving. In a matter of moments, he had pressed a cool, damp cloth to her forehead, guiding her to sit down against the ship’s railing. He produced a flask from his coat, pressing it lightly to her lips. "Just a sip," he coaxed. "Ginger and honey. It'll help."

Y/N obeyed, the warm liquid sliding down her throat, soothing in its own way.

Brant sat beside her, legs stretched out, his shoulder brushing hers. "This ship had better be worth the suffering it’s putting you through," he mused, though the usual amusement in his voice was laced with something gentler.

She let out a weak chuckle. "If not, I’m making you carry me everywhere when we get off."

Brant grinned, dramatic once more. "Oh, my love, you need only ask. I'll sweep you into my arms, sing sonnets of your bravery, and—"

"Brant," she groaned, leaning her head against his shoulder, "shut up."

His laughter was soft, his arm curling around her shoulders in an embrace that was steady despite the rocking ship. "Anything for you, Stella Mia."

The moment the ship docked, Y/N exhaled in sheer relief. The journey had been a test of endurance, one she had barely passed, and she was desperate to set foot on solid ground again.

Brant, ever the gentleman when it suited him, was already at her side, offering his arm with a flourish. “Come, my suffering angel, allow me to be your guiding light back to the safety of the earth.”

Y/N groaned, reaching for his arm. The moment she attempted to step forward, her legs wobbled beneath her, the lingering sensation of the ship’s constant sway refusing to leave her body. She stumbled, but before she could fall, Brant caught her with ease, steadying her with both hands.

"Careful, Stella Mia," he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "The sea may have released you, but it still lingers in your bones."

Y/N clung to him, annoyed at her own weakness but grateful for his support. “I feel like I’m still moving.”

Brant chuckled, adjusting his grip as he led her slowly down the gangplank. “A cruel trick of the ocean, my dear. It steals your strength and then mocks you for it.” His smirk softened as he looked down at her. “But worry not. You have me.”

Once her boots touched the cobbled port, Y/N sighed, the solid ground beneath her an instant comfort. “Thank the gods.”

Brant didn’t let go immediately, keeping her close as she regained her balance. "Shall I carry you, just in case?" His eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something else beneath it—genuine concern.

Y/N gave him a tired glare but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t you dare.”

He laughed, finally releasing her but keeping a protective hand at her back as they walked forward. “Very well, but if you swoon dramatically into my arms, I reserve the right to boast about it for years.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but leaned into him just a little as they made their way into town. Maybe, just this once, she’d let him fuss over her.

#x reader #x y/n #x you #wuwa brant #brant wuwa #brant x reader #brant #brantart #wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #wuwa #seasick

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netherfeildren · 2 months ago

Text

Busy, Dying. Epilogue;

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

A/N: Cannot even describe what it feels like to finally finish something completely for the first time in almost a year. I feel weird and insecure about this ending, about the whole story in general, maybe it doesn't make a lot of sense, but I think I'm okay with that. I'm also just happy it's done. Thanks for sticking with me :')

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No Outbreak AU, A/B/O, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Soulmates AU, Character Study, Infidelity, Cheating, This Is a Story About Joel Miller!, Self Healing, Mild Injury/Blood, Stream of Consciousness, Angst With a Happy Ending, Grief, Group Therapy

Word Count: 2.3K

Read on AO3

Epilogue;

The old linoleum tiles are the most peculiar shade of puce, and Joel has realized there is something within him…changing.

More brown than purple—a comforting color. He has come here, to the Emmanuel Episcopal Church, to be reminded of something.

The Omega that is currently speaking tells of her husband; it’s the only tale she has to tell. He feels certain he’s heard it before. When he looks at her, the burnished copper hair threaded with soft white, he sees something in her eyes that reminds him of another woman who he isn’t certain he didn't dream of, but who he’s sure he knows.

Something like… a desperation, perhaps. Maybe that’s what he’s needing reminding of. Something that’d made him feel desperate. Something he’d tried and tried and railed against letting go of, and now that it was gone, he could not help but want back.

Joel had done something to himself, let something go. A girl with green eyes and a terrible grief. A brother who would not speak to him. And a—

A what?

“This will be my last meeting,” the woman at the podium says. “I thought for a long time that I was here to cure my loneliness,” she laughs, a sound that confuses Joel. “I’m sure we all at one point thought the same. But I think I’ve let go of that arrogance. Or that wishfulness—who knows.” She sighs and it’s easy, light. “And I’ve realized… well, let me tell you now, the bitter truth about loneliness is this: we never escape it. We only learn to take short interludes from it. Distractions. But eventually… you always return. Eventually, it’s only you again, left to pick up the pieces. Work through it. There is no miracle move on drug that can truly cure a soul in grief. No false peddlers get-well-quick scheme. There is only ourselves, and our willingness to change because we want to change for the better.”

Joel pulls the scarf he’d found tucked into the pocket of his coat weeks ago. A woman’s soft garment, he’d had no idea who it could belong to for he hadn’t seen his wife in a long time.

He buries his face in the blue cashmere, unable to stop the odd, choking sound from gurgling up his throat, the scent of her turning in his lungs. A crushing sense of despair spinning the other way within him, some terrible vortex of an almost unbearable sense of loss and loneliness he’d thought he’d cured himself of. Something worse than anything he’d ever endured before.

Joel had made a terrible mistake, all the remaining grief inside of him told him so. He couldn’t remember, but all he knew was that there was a fracture through the center of the man so that he could never ever be real again without mending it. It was impossible to explain, nor did part of him even want to, all he knew was that he’d suffered a loss so acute he’d ruined his entire heart and life for it. There were so many things he’d forgotten, how to cry, how to be brave, how to be real.

A woman named Maria who reminds him of his brother calls for any other volunteers willing to share and with the blue scarf gripped in his fist, Joel takes his now familiar place at the podium. He remembers names and he shares and he’s sure he isn’t the way he used to be but on his way to someone else.

He tells them the only tale he has to tell:

“I had a daughter a long time ago. Her name is Sarah. When she died, I did too. And sometimes, well… you can imagine, but it’s a terrible thing, walking around the world dead. It made my views on the whole thing—dying—change. You’d think it would’ve radicalized me, made me awake to the reality of what it really means to be alive. But instead…death was like…her death was like—I can’t even say—like a door. Like she walked through a door I couldn’t follow and so I tried everything, all the possibilities—I tried to walk through my own doors, even tried to follow her through hers, and nothing ever worked, and now I’ve spent my life since, in the wrong room. And now that I want to go back, to be alive again and make it right, I feel like I’ve lost the key, you see, and can’t find my way back out.”

There are so many strange and unknown faces in the crowd before him. They all blur together, morphing like the skin’s grown over bone wrong and distorted. No one wearing the one he’s looking for.

“It feels like I’m cursed. And it’s so unfair. And so selfish. Everyone loses someone,” Joel says. “Why’d I have to let it consume me the way I did? Why’d I have to walk around dead for so long? How could I have gotten so lost and so trapped I forgot to live?”

But Joel feels certain now, that if he could only find that key, he’d be let out and alive again.

Out of the basement of the church, he crawls, false and cowardly. And at the same time, with a lightness he hasn’t felt since before he’d put his own child in the ground, wearing the terrible exhaustion that comes from being so alone you can’t remember what it is to be otherwise. Starting along his walk home with a blue scarf draped around his neck; he walks places now, he knows someone taught him the simple joy of this, but he can’t remember who.

Halfway through, middle mark to home and just past the watch shop, the rain begins. It’s cold on the come down and then slicing hot against his skin; butter knife meet soft, unsuspecting flesh.

He begins to stumble then, confused, north becomes south, the west falls away to nothing and the thought of an east facing wind losing itself to the ocean terrifies him. The sky is weeping. His mind spins like a typhoon. Joel Miller is lost. The rain distorts, he walks past a split maple—blood colored—lying in the front yard of someone’s home as if they’d forgotten they’d left it there. His feet continue but his eyes stay on the tree cleaved in half by who knows what—who could do such a thing?—neck turning turning clicking. The toe of his boot catches on a split in the pavement, and then he’s being felled just like the maple, falling, brow cracking sharp and split, too. Blood colored, too.

When he finally makes it home, for a single unbalancing moment, he thinks the house he’s lived in for seven years looks entirely unfamiliar to him. There’s a hot slice of pain across his mind and pavement printed face. His memory, fickle and disturbed, broken. The wife he has been married to for those same seven years is not here.

Suddenly, Joel begins to cry.

Slow at first, like most good things start. One tear over that trough ledge, he thinks of children that are lost, then another and he gives it a moment, lets it make its slow and meandering way over skin to lose itself amongst his whiskers, hidden and fearful just like he is. He lets it go slow until he’s ready for all at once, and then he weeps in great heaving sobs.

He makes his way into the dark, abandoned house and he thinks that perhaps not all has been lost. After all, he feels he’s finding himself in this moment, coming back to reality, waking up to memory.

Laying in bed, curled and shivering, he pleads with that who-knows-what he doesn't believe in to let this terrible grief end. His crying is like a bloodletting. But what about tomorrow? When the girl is still gone and Joel is still alone. Then, he’ll only be able to remember the terrible alone-ness he’d endured and the sense of relief he’d felt only to lose it again.

When he sleeps, he dreams of his daughter, he dreams of miracles and cheats, of a face he knows should be resting against his own pillow when he opens his eyes. He dreams of remembering.

Finally, after years might have passed, throbbing head beating like hammer and anvil, he wakes to the odd but unmistakable sound of snarling, snapping teeth which are, so far as he can tell, his own. Heart pounding in his throat, his stomach lurches like he’ll be sick. He turns over in the uncomfortable, cold bed, legs swinging over the side to brace himself, and when he looks up, his wife sits just there in the corner of the room, watching him.

“My, what drama.”

“Where have you been?”

“Busy, living.” The thought seems incomprehensible to him. “What have you done to yourself, Joel Miller?”

“I cheated. It didn’t work.”

“That doesn’t seem like you.”

“I got desperate. I felt so alone.”

“So you should’ve done what I did. Gone out and lived your life. How could you ever possibly think you could cheat yourself out of having to do that? Silly man.”

“I—I tried. I did. But I got confused…lost. I made a mistake. I thought I needed to forget everything in order for it to work.”

“Joel. Oh, Joel,” she sighs. “You’re floundering. Whatever you’ve done, it wasn’t right. Look at yourself. You’re falling apart.” She says it so matter of factly it shames him even worse.

“Maybe. Yes.” He feels a terrible rush of embarrassment.

“Remembering is the most important part. If you don’t remember the past, you can’t find your way through to the present.”

There had been many times in his life when Joel Miller had been thoughtless, selfish, a bad man. But taking you, leaving you—he remembers he remembers—nothing had ever been worse than this. A miracle move on drug…he’d been so wrong. So selfish, so weak. There was no miracle, no neat and quick logical cure. There was only himself, taking his courage in hand and letting go of that which no longer served him, preserving memory in a glass case and leaving it there to go on with the rest of his life, just as his wife had.

He thinks of you now, and examines his own loneliness: the idea that to be a man, he’d had to hold his tears at bay, his lust, his feeling, that there was strength in his solitude that protected him from his past losses, his terrible grief, that weakness was a sin. It’s so obvious, and how could he have not seen it before, that none of that is true.

He’d been turned back into himself by a girl made of his own heart, and then he’d let her callously slip through his fingers. What a terrible mistake. What a terrible thing to do to someone that would love you. What a terrible thing to do to yourself.

For one last moment, he lets the old doubt and fear comfort his mind like a cloud, and then sudden as daylight, his memories settle, the certainty that he cannot not move forward if he does not live with the past as what it is.

And the realization that he cannot live without you. It’s a simple, awful certainty.

The girl who answers the door has red brown hair cropped short around her pointed chin, a splatter of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Green eyes that remind Joel of another’s.

“If you aren’t here to fix it, I’m not letting you in,” she warns as if she knows him.

But he promises her that he is, that finally, he’s realized what it is he needs to do to make it alright.

He comes into the perfect room, and kneels at the side of your bed like a supplicant.

You’re sleeping, frozen in your hibernating stillness, your nightgown slipping low over one full breast so that the soft peak is bared to him. Your knee hitched high, allowing him a view of your smooth, lush thigh. He pulls the duvet over your shoulder, backs of his fingers brushing the cold skin there.

And you look so alone in your abandoned bed, bared and vulnerable. He breathes slowly for many long moments, watching the still planes of your face—there are no moving dreams behind your eyelids. Had he stolen those from you also?

When your eyes snap open, it’s an immediate step into waking. No confusion, only the frightening dilation of your pupil and complete understanding in your gaze.

Your eyes study his face carefully.

“You hurt yourself.” A single fingertip pressed to the open wound at his brow.

“Yes. Very badly.”

“I’m sick,” your voice is throaty and full.

Heat-sick, heart-sick, all his fault.

And there exists now, something more powerful than logic or his past losses, his living writhing grief, which had cured his mind, his heart, that drew his eyes to your mouth. He had split himself open, it had been a bloodletting. He had cried, it had been a bloodletting. You hurt. He had hurt you. He needed to mend his errors. To be alive again.

This may seem like a small ending to you, but it is a large beginning. It’s the start of the rest of Joel Miller’s life, after all.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I made a mistake,” he says.

“It was never going to work.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “You could see that, but I needed to live it to know. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

“I know. I believe you.”

Sometimes it really is that simple.

Joel rests his head in the cup of your hands and cries now because he can, because that, in and of itself, is a miracle.

“Tell me what my name is,” he asks you.

“Joel.”

—And he’s real, then, loneliness cured.

End.

References; The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula K. Le Guin Beautiful Boy: A Father's Journey Through His Son's Addiction, David Sheff Mad Men, (2007-2015) Asteroid City, Wes Anderson, (2023) Cool About It, Boygenius Fortnight, Taylor Swift Wrong Norma, Anne Carson The Devil You Know, Liz Carlyle

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#busy dying fic #vic fic #Joel Miller fanfiction #Joel Miller AU

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